Week 6

Unconventional Means

I did something a little unconventional.  After my freakout about disappearing symptoms yesterday, I finally called one of the local fertility clinics and asked for beta testing.  Of course, they promptly said, "No."  Apparently, my doctor's signature holds more weight than I thought, and crosses medical borders into independent clinic land.  Damn it.

But after listening to my sob story about recurrent miscarriages and the like, the receptionist recommended something I'd never heard of before.  There is a site online called MyMedLab.com that will take your blood, test it, and post it on your account, all for bargain basement prices.  Sounds weird?  It is.

I went on the site and looked up HcG.  They  had the test available for the low online price of $56.  I whipped out my credit card and immediately signed up.  

After printing out the order, I was sent to the local MedLab for my blood draw in the Castro, where a very nice, gay, ex-Navy man drew my blood.  It was absolutely painless.  Remarkable, considering my aversion to needles.  I literally felt nothing.  I love that man.

So in a few days or less, I will see my results.  If my HcG levels are low, I'll anticipate a potential miscarriage.  If they're sky-high, I'll be at ease...for now.  

Of course, I'm praying for the latter.  You should be, too, btw.

Week 5, Day 4

The soreness in my breasts has been less noticeable in the last two days.  This morning, I felt the dread of impending miscarriage as I went to the bathroom.  No blood, but a pregnancy test yielded a lighter line than the day before.  Also, my temperature dropped today.  And something inside feels empty.  There's no pulling or tightness in my abdomen.  

I'm preparing myself for the worst.  I know it could be nothing, but in the past when I've given myself false hope, I've been devastated by the outcome...not that a third miscarriage wouldn't be devastating with all the warning in the world.  Somehow, I just imagine it would be easier to bear if I was expecting it, and it wasn't so freight-train-ish.

I keep thinking I pushed myself too hard.  This must be the reason.  I'm not resting enough.  Maybe I'm out of good eggs.  Maybe my body isn't meant to bear children.  None of it is comforting, but being logical is the only recourse I have at this point.

We shall see.  The worst part of this is that I have to see what the day to day results are.  No beta testing means no hard results.  

The Game of Waiting

I feel like I'm waiting for fate to punch me in the face.  Every time I feel the urge to pee, I panic.  What if there's blood?  What if I wipe and there's blood?!  It's enough to make a girl never want to pee again.

The symptoms are still around...sore boobs, bloating like a life raft.  But that's all there is.  No nausea, no nothing.  I'm feeling normal, except for the occasional tightness in my uterus, feeling like something's stretching or making room.

Every twinge of even the slightest pain makes me break into a cold sweat.  Every temperature drop makes my eye twitch.  If the pregnancy test comes back with a fainter line, I want to burst into tears.  I am a paranoid crazy person right now.  I probably will be pretty unbearable to be around until the ultrasound on the 31st.  

I'm distancing myself from happy.  I can't be happy.  It doesn't feel safe.  

Not that I'm superstitious or anything, but I picked up a face-up penny off a sewer grate today.  I also find myself being nicer to people I hate because I think maybe, just maybe, someone up there will have mercy on me and grant my wish for a healthy pregnancy.

And yes, I'm talking about Santa.

5 Weeks for the 3rd Time

My Geriatric Pregnancy

Since I am over the age of 35, I am categorized as an "advanced maternal age" pregnancy.  So was Halle Berry, so I am in good company.  

But the problem isn't the category, it's my history of miscarriage.  I've lost two consecutive pregnancies, and being pregnant for the third time isn't quite as joyful as it should be.  My paranoia and fear is constantly breaking me down, and trying to build up my confidence is a daily chore.  

I dread going to the bathroom.  I can't imagine finding blood in my underwear again.  I don't know if it would kill me or finally make me not care anymore.  I expect the worst so I won't be torn down by the possibilities.

Doctor's Orders

Since I'm now petrified to move, use the bathroom, or uncross my legs, I asked my OBGYN for beta testing, which tests HcG (human growth hormone) and progesterone levels. My doctor promptly said no.

"It would not be helpful to do HCG levels or take progesterone. Would you like me to book you for an ultrasound appt? When was the first day of your last period?"

I wrote back and tried to get answers as to why beta testing wasn't a reasonable request.

"I believe I ovulated on the 25th. My last period was my miscarriage, which was on or around the 29th. I think I'm close to 4 weeks, but the fetus is probably only 2 weeks along.

So beta testing isn't helpful in seeing how the pregnancy progresses? I thought HcG levels were supposed to double or triple every day."

She wrote back with another vague answer.

"According to your dates, you will be 6 weeks on 12/23 and 7 wks on 12/30. I would recommend you have your appt the week of 12/29. Will you be off work that week? I could see you 12/31---would that work for you? If so, what time? HCG levels are not helpful unless we are concerned about ectopic pregnancy---in other words, even if they rise as they should, they do not assure us of a viable pregnancy."

I wrote back that I thought HcG levels were always used in fertility cases or cases of multiple miscarriages.

"I am curious about HCG levels, because I thought that they should be doubling, and if they are not, your pregnancy is most likely not going to be a viable one. I know my friend who is going through infertility issues at a fertility clinic has been tested every day since conception.

Sorry to be difficult, but I'm looking for either reassurance or a warning of impending miscarriage. The emotional toll of the last two were extremely hard to bear."

She wrote back and even more vague response.

"I understand your fears and am sorry. Having HCGs does not warn of impending miscarriage. Your friend is in a different situation. I will schedule you at 9am on 12/31 to see me and have an ultrasound."

So I did what any petulant child would do...I tattled on her to my general practitioner, whom I trust implicitly. She wrote me back the very next day and treated me just as a strict parent would a bratty child.

"The ultrasound is very sensitive and gives a lot of information that the BHCG by itself cannot. The blood test is cheaper and easy, but again cannot give you information about location, structure, heartbeat, etc. Dr. XXXX is also an excellent, nationally recognized OB./gyne (in fact, she is the doctor for doctors, meaning all of the pregnant doctors use her), so I would trust her judgement as she knows best. I know that having miscarriages is unnerving (as I've also had a few), but Dr. XXXX will only act in your utmost, best interest."

So now I wait. Three weeks seems like an eternity. Time, which once passed at the speed of a bullet train, has now slowed to an excruciating crawl. I whined about time, and wished for it to stop moving by me so quickly, I suppose. Irony at its worst. Be careful what you wish for, for you may surely get it.

4 Weeks...and Some Serious Deja Vu

Three Time's a Charm

12 dpo, and I'm looking at a faint line on an early pregnancy test.  Yes, I'm pregnant again.  Three weeks, five days, to be exact.  

I woke up the slumbering husband at 6:40 a.m. and showed him the stick under light.  He mumbled quietly, "Oh my God, I see it." and then passed out again.  He is currently snoring away downstairs, happy as can be.

But am I happy?  Yes!  Joyful, in fact!

Am I terrified?  Yes!  Scared shitless, in fact!

After two consecutive miscarriages, I'm sitting here, legs tightly crossed, vagina clamped shut, trying to WILL that embryo to stay in place and grow.

I emailed my doctor and asked for HcG and Progesterone testing to see how the pregnancy progresses.  She may or may not comply.  I may have to destroy her if she doesn't.  

My main concern is not freaking out every second of the day until I get a good ultrasound of the baby's heartbeat.  My stress levels must stay low, and I have to keep my anxiety at a minimum. 

Pass the Xanax.  And the brownies.

Two Week Wait Redux

CD 38.  Sore boobs.  And I'm eating my weight in food, like, every day.  If I'm not pregnant, I have a serious issue with emotional eating.

Fertility Friend has told me that the probability of me being knocked up is 90 points out of 100.  I have no idea what that means, but I love getting good grades.  That's an A-, right?

Either way, the final straw was today...11 dpo, and a negative on my early pregnancy test.  

SIGH.  Back to the sexy time, I guess.