Yesterday I mentioned my tendency lately to think I’m pregnant based on all these things my body is doing, but always being wrong. Here are a few of them:
Hey internet. I know there are crickets out there, but I needed a place to come to get this all out. I kind of like it that no one views this blog anymore, because what I need to say I don’t really want a ton of people knowing.
So much has happened since that very last post here. I’m happy to report that I went on to have a healthy pregnancy and delivered our baby girl at 39 weeks and 5 days. She is the light of our lives, truly. And in 24 days, she will be one year old. Already. Holy cow.
In the past month or two, I have utterly and completely failed at taking birth control. I used to be so good at it, but I don’t know. Something happened to my memory. Anyway. C and I decided that I just would be off of it. Because really, if I did get pregnant it would AMAZING because, you know, YAY! No medical assistance necessary! And we want two bebes ideally anyway, and so, yea. It would be cool. Basically we aren’t in a place to seek out fertility treatment again, but we would be over the moon happy if something happened naturally.
Which is what brings me here.
The problem is that my body doesn’t do ANYTHING it’s supposed to do naturally. I knew this already, but it’s been a gut wrenching reminder lately as I’ve had so many “OMG SO MANY PREGNANCY SYMPTOMS MAYBE I’M PREGNANT!!” moments, only to be letdown by negative test after negative test. So many tears, again. Already. And we’re not even *technically* trying. I forgot how disappointing and painful it is to have a body that doesn’t seem to work. I also forgot that so many symptoms of PCOS, and PCOS coming off of birth control, shockingly mimic pregnancy symptoms in a way. Like acne. And cramping. And some other gross things. And then there are symptoms that aren’t PCOS related, I’m sure, but also don’t seem to mean pregnancy for me either. So it’s a double whammy.
Because of the cruel reminder that my body likes to act pregnant but never actually get pregnant (without injections of medicine and a catheter in my uterus, at least), I’ve been pretty emotional and sad. Which is so, SO stupid because we have this one, beautiful, wonderful gift of a child that I would love to spend more one on one time with before adding another baby to our family. But somehow, feeling pregnant and then not actually being pregnant- despite knowing that ideally C and I would like another year or so with E before another baby- crushes my heart. Because deep down, I do want another baby. I want my body to WORK, DAMMIT. I want to be one of those rare instances. One of those lucky people who are like, “WHOOPS!!”
I’ll never have a “whoops.”
I want to be one of those PCOSers who get pregnant via fertility treatments, and then unknowingly and accidentally gets pregnant naturally after that first baby.
I’ll never be one of those.
I’m just not that lucky. Things like that never happen to me.
I told C earlier that this situation is both win-win and lose-lose. If I were pregnant, it would be awesome because YAY! WE DID IT BY OURSELVES! And, YAY! A sibling for E!! I
If I’m not pregnant, then it’s awesome because YAY! MORE PRECIOUS TIME WITH OUR SWEET BABY GIRL WHO ISN’T EVEN A FULL YEAR YET!
Win-win, you see. Win if I am, win if I’m not.
Then again, if I’m pregnant it’s scary because Eeeek! What about E!? We need more time with her! More time as just a family of three!!
And, if I’m not pregnant… heart crushing, spirit destroying disappointment. My body doesn’t do what a woman’s is supposed to do. I can’t get pregnant on my own. And really? I, deep down, want another baby.
Which sounds so greedy to me. So then I shame myself.
Shame on you, L, for not appreciating what you have. You have been gifted a beautiful, precious child. You have friends who are still waiting for that gift. How dare you ask for more? How dare you even THINK about wanting another baby. Cherish the one child you have. Every single minute.
Don’t get me wrong. I do. I adore that sweet girl. ADORE. I am so blessed. So fortunate. So, so lucky to have her. We are beyond grateful.
I don’t want to be greedy. But I also want my body to do what it was designed to do, naturally. I want that joy.
So that’s where I’m at, and I’ve got nowhere to really share these thoughts and feelings with. Mostly because it feels so wrong to feel them and share them when I know so many still struggling just to have one sweet baby.
I’m WAY excited about the HCG, and the progesterone is good, but I’m not sure what it means if the progesterone has gone done a couple units. I’m hoping nothing bad! I was curious about whether the HCG was strong or not, and so I googled… duh… and found this calculator:
So that’s where we’re at. I’m still hesitant to announce it on my other blog, and plan on waiting until after our first ultrasound on Nov. 9 to mention it over there. Please bear with me while I still share things over here.
As for any symptoms, there’s nothing too bad to complain about. I’m super tired a lot. My boobs are HUGE and sore-ish. I’ve had some indigestion, and more than anything I’ve had cramps. They feel exactly like period cramps, and they come and go- never lasting super long.
For now I’m just sitting around waiting, feeling pretty much the same as before, like nothing has changed, but somehow everything has changed.
Well, friends. It’s for reals.
My next beta is Monday, and if the numbers are doubling up like they should, I won’t be back until my first ultrasound.
My first ultrasound is scheduled for November 9th.
I’m praying for numbers raising like they should.
Thank you all for your sweet comments and support. So many of the women I’ve met through these interwebs are the nicest people I’ve ever known. Thank you especially for reminding me to celebrate, because truthfully for the first 48 hours I was quite a debbie downer about it all- in real life, and on the internets.
We’re not out of the woods yet, but I’m grateful to be standing here at the beginning of them.
This morning was yet another wanding monitoring appointment. It was all good news. One 15 mm follie on one side, and a 13 mm on the other. And the uterine lining is 11.6mm, which is good, right?
So anyway, the nurse took a look at the sizes and made some kind of celebratory remark and brought me back to her office where she pulled a box from the drawer and said, “I’m going to give you a trigger shot.” She instructed me to ABSOLUTELY UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES use it until they give me the go ahead, and then she explained to me how it will work (it’s Ovidrel, for you infertility friends who know about this stuff). She then said that she will call me later with the labs, and if all looks well I can expect to trigger on Wednesday night. She’d call me later with lab results and whether or not they want to bring me in before triggering, if indeed it were to be planned for Wednesday night.
Wooo! I was excited for all that good news.
She called around 2pm-ish and told me my lab results- estradiol was at 382! Woohoo! Great news. Then she said that I need to take the trigger shot at 10pm on Wednesday night. Okay, check! But there was more. She told me to go ahead and call the sperm washing place to make an appointment to have a sperm wash done.
Wait, what? We never discussed IUI-ing this cycle. We never really discussed WHAT would happen in this cycle at all, other than moving me up to the injections, actually. I just assumed we’d have timed intercourse and all that jazz. I mean, I’m not opposed to IUI-ing, I just wasn’t really mentally prepared to hear that. So she gave me the phone number to the place and told me that the IUI is scheduled for 10am on Thursday morning, and that we should go to the sperm washing place whenever they can have us come in that morning, and immediately go to their clinic afterwards, whether it be 9:30am or 11am. Just to come, and they’d get me in to complete the IUI.
Y’all. I’m kind of in shock here. I’m definitely not opposed to doing an IUI. Really, I’m not. But I was all psyched up to GET. IT. ON. to make babies (ahahaha, tmi, sorry), and suddenly we are going all the way with the science and stuff. It’s just a mental adjustment, I suppose. And honestly, I bet if I called tomorrow and said, “Hey look, we didn’t really discuss this IUI business ahead of time, and C and I aren’t really ready to jump to that step yet. We’d like to try timed intercourse first, etc. etc.” That they’d have NO problem with it. I really don’t think they would. I don’t know what they were thinking, but I do know that the drugs- all those expensive injections- are paid for by a government grant so we the patients aren’t paying a dime for them. I imagine that they want to maximize their chances of success with each woman they hand them out to, and for me, an IUI likely maximizes them. I don’t really know. I’m not too worried about it, like I said. Just caught off guard.
C was getting ready to walk out the door to go to work and overheard the conversation. He seemed urked, so I immediately freaked out and was all, “OMG. Are you mad? Do you not want to do an IUI? Etc. Etc. Etc.” He laughed and said that no, he wasn’t mad at all, but that he was a little miffed at the surprise. As a doctor himself, he thinks that news like that shouldn’t ever be a surprise to the patient, so, uh, yea. He wasn’t angry, but he was on the more extreme said of the, “Wait, what?” reaction.
All in all, I think we are both okay with doing an IUI, dare I say even a little excited. Just taken aback because we didn’t think that’s what we were doing. Just a simple miscommunication this time around. We aren’t angry. I still have the utmost confidence in my doctor and his nurse. And uh, yea. So that’s that. IUI on Thursday at 10 am. Oh goodness.
PS: My IUI friends- tell me this, because I don’t remember what the nurse told me. I know I am to continue to gogo injections today and tomorrow, but do I take one on Wednesday afternoon, the day of my trigger (trigger is at 10pm- shots are usually mid-afternoon)? What were you guys told? I will probably call to verify with the nurse tomorrow, but I wanted to know what you guys did.
I clearly bailed on all of you on Tuesday and never posted an update about my wanding and blood work. So sorry. Finding my dog was the number one priority, and for a few days, I could’ve cared less what my ovs were doing. For the complete story on that, check out my main blog: The Army Doctor’s Wife.
The week ended near perfectly though, starting with us finding our sweet dog yesterday afternoon, getting good news from the RE today, putting the smack down on our homeowner’s association accountants, and decorating my house for fall/Halloween- the beginning of my favorite time of year! There was even a full rainbow across the sky at the end of it all.
So rewind to Tuesday. I went in for my follie check and blood work. My follies were… negligible at best. Bah. BUT, when the nurse called with my blood work results, she said my estradiol had gone up from 31 to 63. A small, but promising jump. So she told me to come back today, Friday.
In between that time I lost my mind trying to find my dog and balance school and remembering to eat and forgetting all household chores. Then I found my dog and things slowly started righting themselves.
Today, I went back in to check things out. Today, there were two clear dominant follies- one on each ovary. When I say dominant here, I’m not talking 18mm+ awesome follies, but hopefully growing, clear leaders of the pack at 11mm and 10.6 mm each. Everyone else was eating their dust. When the nurse called with the blood work results, she said, and I quote, “It looks like you’ve turned a corner! It’s great- your estradiol levels went up to 134!”
Wooo! I know it’s not trigger time, or requiring any action at this point, but it means that FINALLY something is jump starting my ovs like they should be. I’m relieved. I go back Monday morning bright and early for another check up. Hopefully the follies are ready to burst and my estradiol is through the roof. A girl can hope and pray, no?
In addition to these fabulous endings, my husband has been dealing with our homeowner’s association because they said we were delinquent on a payment and were charging us late fees, which…. is completely false. In fact, we are one payment AHEAD of schedule. So he spent a good two hours going back and forth between them and the bank, and at the end? The homeowner’s association called us and apologized for their mistake, which was crediting OUR payment to a different account. Score for us.
Then it rained, and I decorated our house for Halloween because y’all? October is my single most favorite month of the year. The weather turns beautiful and chilly, my birthday comes, Halloween is always fun, and generally it just brings good feelings to my heart.
And when I was walking by the back door to set some pumpkin spice candles on the mantle, I looked outside and a complete rainbow was arching over the sky. It was a beautiful ending to a beautiful week. Happy October, y’all!
Today was the ultrasound, and, (drumroll please), I absolutely have the PCOS. No doubt. All kinds of cute, but useless, 6-7mm follies hanging out down there doing… nothing. My estradiol today? A piddly 31. Seriously. We’ve got nothing. GET WITH THE PROGRAM, OVES.
Thanks to those of you who suggested options like F.emara. While I’ve heard good things about it, my doctor, whom I trust, didn’t even mention it (and I know he’s used it before with other people), which leads me to believe he thinks I need something stronger than just CloClo or the Fem. I’m absolutely okay with this.
So he started me on Gonal-F injections, henceforth to be know as GoGo injections. Sort of like, GO OVARIES, GO! (Haaaahaaa. I’m so funny in my own mind). GoGo injections and timed intercourse is the plan for now. I go in on Tuesday morning for another ultrasound and blood work. I guess from now on this will be a weekly event for me.
C gave me my first injection today. It wasn’t bad, and I could probably suck it up and give it to myself if necessity dictated it, but until that time, he’s master and commander of the injections because I just cannot for the life of me stick a needle in myself. Blegh.
I would be a sorry heroin addict, no?