Today

I had a six week postpartum checkup at the OB today. Two years ago, I was there in anticipation of seeing my baby on the ultrasound, but instead found out there was no viable baby. My life was forever changed. I still think of myself as the person before October 16, 2013, and the person after. Because I could never go back to the carefree person before that date, even though I am now happy and mostly whole again. 

I feel sad, and just weird in general about this. So grateful for my boys. But still angry that my path to get them was marked by so much pain and tragedy. 

I will now hold my boys tight, breathe in their scent, rub their soft hair on me, and shed a tear or two. A mixture of sadness and happiness. But so very luckily, more happiness.

PS- Yesterday was Infant and Child Loss Remembrance Day. My heart goes out to all those who were affected by this event. It is the worst pain to lose a child, and I hope you found a way to honor the memories and also to be kind to yourself. 

Still An Infertile Woman

Today I am acutely reminded of a quote the leader of my local Resolve support group, a person who had given birth to two children nearly a decade ago, used to say "I am still an infertile woman, and always will be." My non-pregnant self did not understand this completely but I am getting this more and more now.

I always assumed being pregnant would magically make me happier and restore me to the woman I once was. In some ways, thankfully, it was true. I again laugh and laugh easily. My husband and I flirt. I derive joy from little things.

But the fact is I am still not "back" to normal. I recently posted about how unhappy I was finding out a friend got pregnant on her first try! Now I find myself avoiding her because she says things like how she is afraid to XXX in the first trimester because it can cause miscarriage. To each his own, I realize this, but just thinking XXX will cause a miscarriage, that IT CAN BE PREVENTED, irks me because it implies that mine (or anyone's) could have been my fault. And then she starts talking about how excited she is for her first ultrasound and I just cannot sit there and pretend I am excited too. That is when I found out first baby had died. That is not a guarantee things will be fine but I just cannot say these things. 

I am also just so jealous of the innocence that she has regarding pregnancy as a concept. Conceived with ease, remaining pregnant with ease, it will all be easy for her. And trying to explain why it is not for me makes me seem like a freak. After all I am pregnant. So the jealousy should not exist anymore.

But it does. And sadness. And self loathing. And wondering if I can ever just be happy and talk normal pregnancy stuff with people ever. 

I do not want to pretend our struggles did not occur but I do want to sometimes forget. And I want when I do think of our history, to acknowledge the pain and the experience but not acutely feel the pain forever. 

My Friend Had a Loss Yesterday

Yesterday morning, I received a call at work from my friend A, who informed me at her 9w3d ultrasound, no heartbeat was found. Sadly, she was alone at the appointment since her wife had just started a new job. And, they had already had two previous ultrasounds, at one had even heard a heartbeat!

We were unable to continue our conversation until the evening since she went to work. Naturally, I started thinking about the day I first experienced my loss. I went to work afterwards as well and C had to go to his coworker's funeral. I had made it thru the day but after work, and for nearly two months afterward, I cried every day. Usually in the car on the way home as the pressure of keeping it together at work finally became unbearable. (Though granted, many tears were shed during the day in the bathroom.) 

Anyway, I suppose I expected for her emotions to mirror mine the day of the loss. She was very calm, analytical, however, pointing out how better timing in relation to get school vavation might be achieved with a pregnancy in three months instead. She mentioned she was still coming to my baby shower next month. I was shocked! But such a good lesson that we all process tragedy differently. 

I think I was more distraught than she. I relived my pain so intensely that I ended up bawling for awhile. The fear of losing these babies crept up on me once again. I felt some jealousy that she could move on so casually, while I nearly two years later still cannot go to an ultrasound appointment alone and I hold my breath every time until the tech tells me they are ok. I still tense when people refer to miscarriages and still get angry that no one acknowledges mine, and even less so now that I have my "replacement babies." (Which is NOT at all how I view the twins. This is from other people.) Basically, I am still hurt and scarred by this experience and wish so badly that I wasn't. I do firmly believe my ensuing infertility struggle made it harder to move on from my miscarriage. But it still sucks to feel so strongly a mark from both loss and infertility. 

I recently read a post from Twelve Week Eternities that sums up my feelings more eloquently than I can express: https://twelveweeketernities.wordpress.com/2015/05/15/a-healing-heart/

Managing the Anxiety

Yesterday was 5 weeks/21 dpo and I had a beta. The RE had me going crazy by calling me about 45 minutes after the usual time. I started thinking that something was wrong and they were drawing straws to see who had to make the shitty calls.

Alas, finally got the call and the level was 3,650. A doubling time of 42.05 hours, a slight slowdown compared to previous beta of 39.64 hours. Still seems to be in an acceptable range so I am trying to celebrate that. 

An ultrasound is scheduled for next Wednesdsy afternoon the 28th. I asked if we could schedule it sooner, but they do not like to perform a scan sooner than 6 weeks because a heartbeat often cannot be detected before then which causes people to freak out.

That is me already. Last time, I was at 3,700 the week before the fateful ultrasound. It was also on a Wednesday. This time I am in an eerily similar situation and this haunts me. 

This is going to be a long week. I am going to acupuncture tonight, tomorrow I am going to a basketball game, and I will be filling up my weekend with as much distractions as possible. Just trying to avoid being alone with my racing thoughts and remind myself that every pregnancy is different. But it sure as hell is not easy. And I know with PCOS the rate of miscarriage is high. 

(In)fertility Timeline - Part 1

I think it would be helpful for my readers to have more details about my (in)fertility thus far. This is Part 1, about my loss. 

In early 2013, I started putting the pressure on my husband to try and conceive. He was nervous (as was I) but agreed to start trying after our vacation in late June. I figured it would take me 2-3 months to regulate, then get pregnant, and of course have a baby from that pregnancy - ha!

The first cycle was 35 days. I had been on birth control for about 10 years prior, so I figured this is the length of my natural cycle. When another 35 days had gone by, then 40, with no positive home pregnancy test (HPT)or symptoms, I got confused. Called my OB, who called me in for a blood test. It came back negative. They said wait another 30 days if no positive HPT then come in again. 

After about 10 days, I woke up one day with sore, heavy breasts. I tested 3 days later and got a positive HPT. (At this point, it was around 55 days since last   period). Made an OB appointment and a few days later, pregnancy was confirmed.

The next two betas were appropriately rising. We scheduled an ultrasound. Obviously, we were super excited to see the baby and find out our due date (estimated around my husband's birthday!) But, we found out that there was no baby. C had to go to a funeral right after, and I numbly went to work. We waited anxiously until the next day for the ultrasound. The next day, the nurse confirmed the betas had barely risen and probably to not have hope. I broke down, left work immediately and cried for the rest of the day.

I had joined the Bump for my birth month info but had not posted at all or even read much yet. I switched to the miscarriage boards, introduced myself, and started reading voraciously. Cried some more. 

Over the next week, I cried every day and felt my one symptom - sore, heavy breasts - start to disappear. So by the time I went for a repeat beta and ultrasound a week after the previous debacle, I had little hope of a miracle. Results confirmed a slight decline in the sac size and beta levels. I was asked to return in a week for a repeat beta, and told I would need to miscarry naturally.

I was nervous over the next few days, wondering when and how I would miscarry. On a Friday afternoon, I started to feel cramps. By the time I got home from work, the cramps had intensified. Later that evening, they became unbearable and I parked on the toilet, wailing, as C held my hand. Clots and blood poured out of me. I cried from sadness that my baby was in the toilet. 

By the next day, most everything had passed and the cramps were much more bearable. I continued bleeding for a week, and the betas returned to 0 about 3 weeks later. (SO awesome to go to your OB office for the betas to confirm you're less pregnant while being surrounded by pregnant people.) 

After about a month, I was ready to have sex and exercise. Both helped immensely in getting me more normalized, as well as the dropping betas. I figured I would be getting pregnant, or a first period, soon and by Christmas would have another baby inside me to help ease (but not erase) the acute pain I felt all day, every day. But I was wrong, so wrong.....