Lessons

RPL infertility has taught me a lot about myself, and a lot about living.

Most of the time I’m pretty bummed to be in the situation we’re in, but I often give thanks for what I do have, and appreciate in some small capacity the things I have learned on this journey.  To speak of a few, patience, and flexibility.  Patience is obvious.  I feel like over the past 4 years I’ve certainly earned a Masters in that.  Flexibility was a little less obvious.  I hadn’t realized how willing I had become to changing hopes, dreams and goals.  At one point in my life I had a very black and white picture of what I wanted, and who I wanted to become.  Now….I don’t really know those things anymore. That’s not to say I don’t still want to desperately become a mother.  Because I do. Desperately.  But we’ve been thrown so many curve balls, and my plan has gone so far off course that I’m not even sure what the plan is any more.  Life really does come at you.  It comes at you full force, left and right and whatever plans you had fly up into the air.  All you can do is hope to land somewhere close.

I wanted to have 2 babies by 30.  Here I am mid year 30 and no closer to 1 than when we started 4 years ago.  I wanted to have a successful job teaching art after college.  And here I am almost 10 years later, having never taught a day of art post graduation.

I am not the same person I was those 10 years ago….I’m not the same person I was 4 years ago. Old me would have had a problem with that.  I would have been stubborn and upset that my carefully laid plans and foundation for this dream life I created had not gone as planned.  Actually, just last week I was still pretty bummed about it. Then something happened.  I can’t say that I’ve profoundly changed over the course of a week, because truth is, I am still grieving the loss of those dreams and perfectly laid plans….but I did have a small epiphany, and I am really trying to change my daily mantras.  I am going to try to enjoy a new perspective on the life that I have right now, instead of living in constant sadness that things did not turn out the way I had hoped, and in constant fear that they aren’t going to get back on track.

Truth is, they probably wont.  My life in on a new track right now, and I can choose to get on, or stay exactly where I am.  And I am not happy where I am.  So I am trying to think positively about a new direction, and I’m deciding to choose happiness…whether it’s what I thought happiness looked like, or not.

 

Last week my husband had decided to apply for a new job, one that he saw being more rewarding than his current position.  The problem is that he would be potentially taking a 30-40K pay cut.  Ouch.  I currently do not work.  I stopped (traditional) work when we started trying for a family 4 years ago.  I currently create and sell online, but this can never make up the steady 30-40k we will need so that hubs can be a happier person.  Of course, I can’t help but think he would be a happier person if he had children to come home to…but right now he doesn’t, so I just want to see him happy in his profession.  So, I’ve decided that it’s time for me to put my dream of being a very successfully rich artist (cause that’s very unlikely) on hold or at least turn it back into a passionate hobby, and go back to school for something that will give me purpose and a paycheck. Honestly, I’m a little excited about it.  I’ve felt like I’ve been drifting along aimlessly for so long now….it’s nice to have a goal that I can actually achieve through hard work (instead of working towards some medical mystery I continuously fail at).  It will be nice to feel like I am contributing something of value, and not just shuffling around this house waiting for life to happen to me while everyone else is moving forward.

I think this will help me feel a little less defeated and a little more alive.  I think I will rediscover pride and accomplishment and all sorts of other positive feelings that I have missed.  Maybe my motivation will trickle into my physical health and I will get back to the gym and start feeling those things about my body again too…who knows.  I’m not going to push it, and I’m certainly not going to set my path in stone this time.  I’m going to be flexible, and work on bending instead of breaking.

New addition…with 4 paws!

2 Summers ago G promised me that we could get another dog if we were not pregnant by the following summer. (last summer).  I didn’t really press the issue.  We had always exchanged thoughts on providing a companion to our current beloved pup, but nothing ever materialized. We always hoped that we would just get pregnant (stay pregnant) and the wanting for more furry friends would subside. I even gave myself an extra year.  But, alas, here we are.

So, we went through the process of finding another 4 legged addition that would fit our current family . We’ve had her for 2 days, and I think I’m experiencing post puppy depression.  Now, she’s not a puppy.  Shes a 2 year old mix breed…probably something and a pit bull (our current pup is a pit-mix as well). But, she was rescued from the streets of Georgia as a stray in January and has since moved from shelter to foster care to our home.  SO, understandably shes new to a lot of things most 2 year old dogs understand, like using the bathroom outside.  We wanted a 2 year old or older so that we wouldn’t have to lay the labor intensive ground work of training a puppy, but I guess we didn’t consider the fact that age doesn’t matter as much as experience.  BUT, here we are, still standing (with a few more scratches and bite marks), two days later.  Shes the absolute sweetest thing. Not so sure our first pup thinks as much, but he’s hanging in there.  They play with fearsome intensity….I’m crossing my fingers and toes that this is just newness, getting-to-know-you behavior, while working out a pack order.  I’m trying not to get too attached just in case their personalities end up not being a good match a couple weeks down the line.  Most of the time they are all teeth, claws and hard body slams in what I think is play, but I have spotted them relaxing together once or twice.

With all of this I’ve had random outbursts of tears and sadness. One would think that it’s completely crazy to feel this way with such an adorable addition, but to me it’s like….It’s like taking a match and decidedly burning down your house, your home, your sanctuary, all because you want something more. Because you’re trying to make something “better”.  And then this beautiful house you built and called home is not there anymore.   That’s what it’s like.

I love my first dog  more than anything, and more than a lot of anyone’s. I’m terrified that I’ve ruined the relationship we have with him.  That with this other creature, albeit adorable, and sweet, and funny,  he’s not acting like the same dog, and that he’s not enjoying the same quality of life and attention from us.  While we got this little girl for a few selfish reasons, we very much weighed his feelings.  Does he want a companion? Will a companion make his life more rich? Will he be less lonesome when we have to leave for extended hours during the day? Does he want a playmate? All signs pointed to “yes”.  Now I’m fearful that I’ve made a big mistake. Afraid that I’ve made a commitment that I am not sure I can keep for the well being of all involved. And that makes me feel out of control, and deeply sad.

Shes wiggly, and funny, loves to give kisses, and seems so appreciative to have a home. And I’m a AWFUL person for resenting her because I didn’t have that baby like I had wanted.  I’m a terrible person for using an innocent creature as a Band Aid, that I rationally know will not work.  And I’m a terrible person for giving her hope when I’m not even sure I can follow through, especially considering all she has probably been through in these 2 years.  And I’m a troubled person for trying to fill a baby sized hole with a dog.  All of those things are giving me these ridiculous post puppy blues.

I love dogs.  But what I really want is a baby.

 

She is really sweet though.  It is only day 2, and tomorrow is another day.

 

Retrospective; Loss and Lost

I don’t know what I am doing any more.  I’ve felt low before, but I’ve never felt more lost.  As of now we’ve had 4 confirmed miscarriages, and 2 non-confirmed miscarriages/chemical pregnancies, ones that I didn’t even bother to investigate. I am convinced that I miscarried/had a chemical pregnancy in December.  I had one HCG done by a different lab  (the lab my RE uses, instead of the usual one I go to from my OBGYN). The nurse I dealt with was rude, and inconsiderate when I called for my results.  I asked for my results, she responded with 5.6, so I said do I need to track this to 0 (like I had always done before) she said “no, you’re not pregnant” and then hung up. My experience has been anything over 5 is pregnant.

This past cycle I stopped taking all of my vitamins and royal jelly, I just needed a break 3+ years is a long time.  I did not end up ovulating until CD23. Lately my cycles have been 32 days (up from 30-31 before all these miscarriages).  But this time I did not start my period until day 36. I think this may have been another chemical pregnancy.  I had the mild symptoms that I usually get, except this time I had the worse heart burn for 5 days straight.  I’ve never had heart burn with other pregnancies, so I was thrilled to say the least (I have honestly prayed for morning sickness on multiple occasions).  For those 4 days following CD32 I was in heartburn bliss, truly believing that my hormones must be doubling, and that I would be so lucky to have a normal pregnancy THIS time.  Then I woke up on day 36.  I just knew.  No sore nipples, no headache, no heartburn, and I had the usual abdominal sensations that I get prior to my period.

So, whether this was just another wacky period due to my  messed up hormones, or whether it was something else, I don’t know.  I’m not trying to win any heart ache contest here.

I don’t know what to do next.  When I last spoke with my RE in December he suggested trying Clomid for my next cycle. We still haven’t gone back.  I just don’t feel in my heart that Clomid is the solution to this problem.   Its not a magic pill.  And I would honestly like to fix my cycles, and get them a little more normal before trying to put a Clomid bandaid on our problem.

I am just at a loss.  I don’t know where to go next or who can help us.  No one seems to have any answers for us. No one seems to know anything about unexplained recurrent  pregnancy loss. In Maine it feels like we have very limited options when it comes to fertility doctors and second opinions, and most of them seem to excel in getting people pregnant, not keeping them there.  And while our RE is a very kind man, and an extremely knowledgeable person, I just don’t feel like he is doing enough for us, or offering enough to us.  At our last visit he pretty much said that if Clomid didn’t work, our only other option was to keep trying (and maybe trying aspirin even though my tests came back negative for clotting disorders) and hopefully someday something would stick, or to consider adoption or surrogacy. This is the end of the line. It was an awful blow.  I didn’t realize until that point that my options were so limited, and that there were no answers to our problems.  There’s got to be more..??? Theres got to be.  If there isn’t, I’m not sure how I am going to stayed glued together.

Where have I been?

Well, there are about 5 or 6 posts that I had started, but never finished since my last in July.
What has happened? A lot, and nothing at all.
I miscarried back in June. Our 3rd? I actually wrote 2nd for a moment.  Man its been a long painful journey, so much so that its all starting to blur together like one horrible dream that we just cant wake up from.

In July we met with an RE.  Turns out I had slightly high thyroid levels, so they put me on some meds to get me back into normal range, and within two months, vola, normal.
We were also scheduled for a sonohystogram to get a better look at what we’re working with.  Everything came back as normal as they could. During the 3 month wait for the appointment we were not allowed to actively attempt conception.  If we conceived we would not have been allowed to have the Sonohystogram, and that would have set this process back.  So we waited.  We got the green light mid September, and by the end of October, I got pregnant again.

I was feeling strong and optimistic.  we had just come back from vacation.  I was rested, and I had started a new job back in August.  All those terrible things you’re told to do or that you’re not doing enough of, and that’s why you’re not pregnant yet. “relax”, “take your mind off of it”, “focus on something else”.  All those terrible things.   And, you actually start to believe them.  I really believed that if I could just throw myself into work, I would be granted my one wish.
Well, I guess I was.  We did get pregnant after all.  Except that we miscarried again, one week after the positive HPT.   That’s been the recurring theme.  Get pregnant.  Levels go to some stupid low number like 12, and then to 17, 48hrs later…..and then you’re told over the stupid phone while you’re sitting in your stupid car that you’re having another stupid miscarriage.
Then comes the Rhogam, and the 2 weeks of blood tests and bruised arms, and playing phone tag with nurses to make sure your levels return to where they were 2 weeks before.  0.

We had purchased a Clear Blue Fertility Monitor in the spring, but hadn’t had the chance to use it until October.  I had tried tracking with LH sticks before, but never really set my mind to it.  I followed all the directions to a T,  which often meant waking up to pee at 4am and then not being able to fall back asleep again. But aside from that,  it actually worked out really well for us, I think.  We found out that I don’t ovulate until cd20, and my cycle is a 30-31 day cycle. which seems like a short luteal phase to me. We have an appointment to see our RE on Friday to talk about stuff like that.  Kind of sucks when it takes nearly 2 months just to see your doctor after something like this.

So here we are today.  Let me tell you about today.  I am currently day 38 post miscarriage.  Which, isn’t too shocking, except that with my other 3 natural early miscarriages/chemical pregnancies, I’ve bled for 5-7 days, and my period returned approx 30-34 days after. (except for the first, I bled for 2 weeks with the first so that messed up my weeks).  So. on cd 30, I had a small amount of spotting.  No surprise, I was expecting my period.  Then I waited a whole week and still no period.  So….I took a test.  I couldn’t NOT take a test! You always hear about someone having a miscarriage, and getting pregnant during that first month and not knowing, etc etc. I had a faint positive line. I can’t say that I was happy, or excited, or really moved in anyway.  To be honest I think my stomach and hands started shaking with anxiety.  There was a surge of  “Here we go again”.  I am still spotting a couple times a day, but more so after a lot of activity, like walking, or lifting. (its winter here, and we just had our first snow but I am NOT going out to shovel. )  But, I took another HPT this morning, and this time there were no double line. So, I’m a bit baffled, and a bit blue. I’m currently 38 days post miscarriage, and if that wasn’t a false positive, I’m pretty fearful that my HCG numbers peaked at something stupid-low like 12 again, and have already started to fall.  I was at 7 before I started to bleed last time.  I am still have some spotting, but my symptoms arent as strong, so I’ve put myself on slug status anyway. I think I’ve gotten up maybe 3 times today.  I’ve gained weight that I shouldn’t have gained because of it.  I’ve been in the obese category my entire life.  But this is the heaviest I’ve ever weighed.  I’m feeling blue, trying to stay positive, but definitely stress eating. I’ve gained 10lbs with each loss.  I honestly can not afford to gain another pound. I’m kind of convinced that that is why we are loosing all of our babies in the first place…

We meet with the RE on Friday to go over hormone treatment options to help us keep a baby.  I haven’t told any doctors about my faint positive.  If I am pregnant, wonderful, if I miscarry…terrible. But, I’ve had my Rhogam shot recently enough that I’d rather just keep this little nugget of info between me and my husband.  I don’t think I can bear another series of blood draws, and nurses hounding me to call them back, when they only have bad news.  I have some left over Prometrium from last month when we tried that approach, so I am self medicating, and just putting it in gods hands.   ‘Cause that’s where it is anyway, no matter how many nurses know my HCG numbers. We’ll probably tell our RE on Friday, but unless he has some magic pill or therapy to hold on to a pregnancy, I’m not interested in tracking anything this time.

The Run Away Fantasy

I’ve been imagining the possibility of running away. Plucking the younger, happier spirits of ourselves like tissues from a box. Soaring above towns, across countries, and moving them far away from this place we are in. I’m not sure where we would go. We could go anywhere.  Would I…Could I be happier somewhere else?  A fresh start, a do-over. What does that look like, where would that be?

Moving our bodies wont change our focus and wouldn’t change our situation. It feels like we’ve been treading water for 2 years. Stagnant.  Wash, rinse, repeat.  Yearning for progress, and scouring for something to pour new hope into. A new path, an altered destination.

So, when I look back to those faces of a happier, younger us, and think ” If I could put these two anywhere right now, where would it be?”

The answer is:  forward.

“Well that changes everything…”

“5.4.   I have never in my entire career caught a pregnancy at a 5.4….that’s why I assumed it was going in the other direction.”

My OB has two amazingly helpful nurses, one is a realist and explained why she assumed my bleeding and HCG results were a clear indication that I was miscarrying.  The other could easily be mistaken for a cheerleader. So enthusiastic, and optimistic.  She had left me a message last Friday that had my stomach doing cartwheels. I honestly thought I was going to pass out from an overabundance of emotions (we had found out that same morning that my father’s cancer had not spread and had been fully removed last month! It was a great day.). I actually fumbled with my phone and missed the entire first 30 seconds of the 2 minute message she had left.  She said my numbers were rising appropriately! They were low, but she assured me it was very early and they had doubled appropriately. “Cautiously optimistic”, she said. Unfortunately, I had heard these words from her mouth before, last October/November.  I appreciate her excitement, but I worry about the hope that it gives me.

I called the office back on Monday, and talked with the Realist. I was a little upset at the end of the conversation because I felt like she was being pessimistic.  I guess I appreciate optimism more than I thought.  We had discussed my numbers, from 5.4 to 14.3 over 48 hrs. The bleeding had stopped but she warned that the numbers were very very low, and suggested that I still keep my Recurrent Miscarriage Consultation I have scheduled for next week.  “We don’t want to jinx ourselves.”, she said.  Something about that irked me.  As if I could be at fault for thinking good thoughts about this pregnancy, if god forbid something went wrong??!! But she was right, I shouldn’t get too far ahead of myself. I asked about progesterone, and she told me to wait what my next results were.

I’ve been in constant Google-mode since then. I’ve yet to find anyone with numbers as low as mine in the week following their missed period. Without testing the best I can assume is that maybe I am just a late ovulator, and maybe all that bleeding and cramping following my missed period was a weird late implantation bleed, which would explain why the NEXT day, my numbers were only 5.4.  But that would mean it took close to 14 days to implant… It’s just so confusing.  I realize I have a very rudimentary idea of what’s going on with my body, and that there could actually be something wrong genetically, or chemically, or hormonally or blood wise.  I’m frustrated, and consumed…but I know I need to stay positive, and hopeful.

As of yesterday, the numbers were still doubling  (in the midst of relief, I forgot to ask the exact numbers) I was at the movie theater when the Optimist called.  There is absolutely NO privacy at a movie theater, and it was pouring rain outside, so I hid in the corner of a hallway, with people walking by as I discussed brown spotting after lifting, progesterone and my slow thyroid.  Awkward.
She mentioned that they don’t usually use progesterone until a person has had more than 2 miscarriages.  EXACTLY?! I had to correct her and explain that this WAS my third pregnancy/miscarriage…apparently they didn’t have my first on file because I wasn’t an actual patient of that OB until after. I was with my GP back then.

“Well, that changes everything!”  She apologized and explained how usually people would have had some testing done by now (my mistake as I wanted to avoid the possibility that there could be something wrong with me) and that we are nearing the cut off point to start progesterone treatments.  She got me an appointment for Friday with a different doctor, as mine is on vacation. Hopefully my levels are still rising, and hopefully he will have some sort of explanation or plan of action to help this one stick.

For now I’m just trying to enjoy where I am at, living in the present and being thankful that I am currently not bleeding (well, aside from some brown discharge) or cramping. Preparing myself for the worst, but enjoying the best, and finding myself wondering if I am actually nauseous, or if my mind is playing tricks on me.
(…I’ve been praying for morning sickness every month for 2 years now.)

I read something beautiful while surfing around through different blogs and communities. Someone said “each pregnancy should be acknowledged and celebrated.” It really hit me hard because I feel a bit of guilt not celebrating this pregnancy or the ones before. (it’s easier to not get attached, and try to move on quickly).  I’m going to try to be better. Try to be more optimistic, and enjoy being pregnant and whatever it brings.

Infertility Intro part 2

composed on June 3rd, 2013

My longest pregnancy to date has only lasted 5 weeks and a number of days that I can not pin point.  That was my second pregnancy, and my second miscarriage.

Its been a little over 2 1/2  years since we began trying to start a family.  3 years ago I wouldn’t have imagined that we’d be here now…I guess I wasn’t sure where we’d be exactly, but here? No, that happens to other people.  But I guess that’s the essence of life.  It throws you curve balls, and you’re left to figure out how to get from point A to point B, or give up.  Thankfully, DH and I are both really stubborn.

Our second miscarriage was the most draining of the 3. (yes, as of today I am now in the category of multiple. One is more common than people assume, two could be a really terrible fluke…and usually by 3, there’s something that should be fixed. Or at least that’s what I’m told.) The bleeding came not long after I found out I was pregnant, I assumed the worst.  But, my HCG  levels were still increasing, slowly, but increasing. Then, as fast as it came, the bleeding stopped. What a relief. Maybe this time!

For a little over a week I had my levels checked. We were hopeful.  Then they slowed.  and stopped. and dropped.  and the bleeding started again.

It was a roller coaster of emotion for over 3 weeks. In the end I was honestly happy. Happy it was over. Happy to move on.  Having hope get taken away again and again was exhausting, and I was ready to move past it, and start fresh. The holidays were coming and we had things to look forward to, including trying again.

I was told if I was really concerned that they could start testing. Usually doctors make you wait until you’ve had 3 miscarriage, but My doctor’s office told me to call them back if I wanted to set up a consultation to discuss.

I told them I’d probably call them back after the Holidays.

I never did.

I don’t think I was ready to deal with it being more than a terrible fluke. After the Holidays I met with my GP for a routine physical to make sure all my basics were still normal. (after the miscarriages I can feel noticeable changes in my body.)
Everything checked out, though I think going into last winter on a sad note induced a seasonal depression in me.  (Seasonal depression is pretty common here in Maine, as we lack vitamin D during the winter months because of our angle to the Sun. Its so damn cold and dark here for so damn long.)

When 2013 came around, I was determined to change the way I was living.

I couldn’t allow myself to become absorbed in this mission to create life.  I could feel it taking over all of my thoughts, my life had revolved around trying to make a baby.

I was determined to stop limiting myself because I was planning on getting pregnant.  There were a lot of things I stopped doing during 2012 because I was afraid that I would harm a potential pregnancy (like intense work-outs/sports).  There were a lot of things that I didn’t want to start because we wanted to be pregnant soon, and I would just have to stop. Yeah, that was an excuse I used a lot.  We stopped planning vacations because “we might get pregnant and not be able to travel”.

I missed out on doing too many things during 2012, and I was tired of living a life in limbo.

Baby making  had turned into a job.  Lets face it, no matter how fun a job is, it’s still a job. We vowed to stop charting  days, and planning things out based on a date on the calendar.

So I changed. I was happy again, and elated when I missed my period for the 3rd time last week…
And crushed when I started bleeding yesterday morning.
Here I am again, absorbed in this mission to create or preserve life, stuck in limbo.

New Meanings to Old Sayings

[i carry your heart with me]

By E. E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

My husband and I were in a long distance relationship through-out our college years. It was the biggest struggle of my life up to that point. Looking back, a good 6 years later, and I can still feel the sting of having to say good-bye to him all those times.

I used to turn to this poem back then.

Now I find myself with a different struggle, and this poem having a whole new meaning.

We didn’t get a chance to get excited, or talk about the future the first time around. And by the second and third I think we were too scared to.

I can feel myself changing. Hardening.  I catch myself saying things to my husband about my current miscarriage, and I can hear how cavalier I sound.

It’s not how I want to be. It’s how I need to be.  If I wasn’t, I think I would break into so many pieces that I wouldn’t be able to put myself back together.  We have a long road ahead, and I’ve got to be strong.

But, I’m sure 6 (or 2, or 20) years from now,  I’ll look back and still be able to feel the sting of having to say good bye to them, all those times.

Coming Clean

My mother-in-law asked me if I thought she was bossy or preachy.  I said “yes.”  I suppose that is the point of my tag line. I’m trying to be more honest with myself and the people I care about.  I’m trying to share my perspective.

People know me as a blunt, say-what-you-mean, opinionated  person.  But, I don’t always feel that way. Actually, when it comes to personal experiences, and issues, I usually deflect.  I put up a lot of walls. I’m sure I am trying to protect myself…I just can’t remember why or from what.

Of course I didn’t just leave her with “you’re bossy.” I explained that I love and accept the person she is.  I take her opinions and theories as her own, and appreciate that they come from a place of love.  That doesn’t mean that I don’t try to change the subject when I see a lecture coming. :]

So, I’m looking to detoxify myself.  I’ve been slowly doing it in other parts of my life; Improved whole-foods diet, participating in activities that allow me to recharge, let go and release, refocus…and I’m hoping this is the final piece of the detoxing puzzle.  An important piece.  Not to mention I’ve been on the other side of the internet for a few years now, searching for similar experiences, hoping to find an answer to all of my “why?” questions…hoping to find hope in times that feel hopeless.

I don’t think I can provide answers to those questions, but maybe I can help myself, and others struggling with similar issues, feel a little less alone.

When it comes to our fertility issues, my husband and I still haven’t shared any of this with anyone, not even family.  It’s a bit of a burden, but they are all going through their own stuff.  We don’t want to add to it.  I’ve always been my family’s “rock”. The glue. The person that fixes problems, not the one with them.

And there never seems to be a good time to share. “Hey thanks for dinner, by the way we’ve suffered 3 miscarriages and kept that from you. Yeah, all the times you called and asked what we were doing or how we were during those weeks, we lied.” or “Want to have brunch Sunday? While we eat quiche and fruit salad we can talk about how I’m currently miscarrying and how we might never be able to have your biological grandchildren.” or “Had a great time today, next time we get together we’ll have to talk more about things that make me really sad and discouraged and hopeless.”

I’m just not ready yet. Maybe this will give me the courage I need to come clean.

As  an artist I usually turn to music for inspiration, reprieve and therapy.

“if it’s dark outside, you light the fire yourself…and the trick of it is, don’t be afraid anymore”

Infertility Intro: part 1

January 2013:

I cried at the doctors this morning.  This might not seem like a big deal but I’ve never cried at the doctors office before…actually I don’t think I’ve cried much publicly since childhood.  Even when they told me I was miscarrying for the second time, I composed myself, left the office and cried privately.  But today, several months after my second miscarriage, nearly two years since trying to conceive, and 40lbs heavier than when I started on this journey (officially obese, it’s hard to wrap my mind around that kind of self sabotage), and I couldn’t compose myself when recapping the years events to my GP in that stupid, sterile, little room.

“It’s been a shit year”…okay, maybe I said “rough year”….but it amounts to the same.

Even though it was a hard year, I still had love. I’ve been lucky in love, and have been with my wonderful husband since I was 15.  We practiced safe sex until we were 27.  I guess we must have had a great Sex Ed program in our hometown high school, because we were lead to believe that having unprotected sex even once would probably lead to an unwanted pregnancy.  I was naive, apparently it’s not so simple for everyone. I had this idea that I would fall pregnant very quickly. “It only takes one time”, A Sex Ed’s mantra.I even figured I’d be able to plan the birth month. Sometime in the spring. May, maybe….Seriously. Before even trying we had planned to have 2 kids by the end of this year.  Well, that isn’t how it happened, and that’s certainly not how it’s going to happen. Okay, I was very naive.

I maintained a healthy lifestyle with the right vitamins and food for over a year before deciding to start a family in May of 2011.  By the end of 2011 I think we finally realized that this process wasn’t as simple as P in V = B.

But, January came and I started having some pelvic pains. Sometimes it hurt to even laugh.  We found out on Superbowl Sunday that I was pregnant. The Patriots didn’t win, but  my husband was still the happiest.

Unfortunately, I started spotting the very next day.  At this point I didn’t understand its implications, and had actually convinced myself it was some sort of implantation bleed.  After a few days, the bleeding and cramping increased, and things became more scary. I didn’t have a GYN.  I’d never had the need for one, I had just turned 28 and didn’t have a GYN…crazy.

My GP took a look and decided it was a “threatened abortion”.  Since I am blood  type O – , I was sent to the hospital to have the RhoGAM injection (which basically prevents my immune system from attacking the possibly Rh+ blood of the fetus in the case of blood mixing, thus building up antibodies to future Rh+ pregnancies)  and to get my HCG beta levels taken. They were low, and dropping slowly.

My first miscarriage….What a long month that was.  Between having having my levels taken (blood being drawn from each arm every other day), and all the bleeding and cramping involved in a natural miscarriage, I was emotionally exhausted, sore and sad.

I was at my healthiest, I was doing the right things, we had  been trying for what (at the time) seemed like a long time.

I was filled with disappointment, and discouragement.

The months following were really dark, I gained 40lbs, became obsessive about getting pregnant, and felt really sorry for myself.  We decided to keep that, (and the following miscarriage) private between the two of us, and the doctors…

Actually, we haven’t told anyone that we have been trying…

(when you don’t tell people you’re trying, you don’t have to tell people you’re failing.)