I'd be shocked

Honestly, I'd be shocked to come with a living baby at the end of this year. There, I admit it.


Things are going smoothly. My doctor looks confounded by this. Of course, there was a brief visit to L&D a couple of days ago for contractions (let the fun begin, UU!). Seems the dil.do cam u/s that morning to check on my cervix and cerclage made my irritable uterus...well, irritable. [Note: dil.do cam u/s's suck before being pregnant and cause actual (more?) pain when preg since that space is occupied now and is never utilized (as bed fun on hold until after deliver)...I thought I was done with them after leaving the RE's, but turns out that's the only way to see the stitch and most accurately measure cervical length.] Anyways, a few hours after the u/s, right after we got home after lunch, the contractions started and were about every 8 min and about a 6-7 on the pain scale (like, breathing through them was required...too bad I haven't had a class on that quite yet). A quick call to my clinic and we were off to my first L&D trial run. Four hours of monitoring and down to mild, irregular, non-painful contractions (aka Braxton-Hicks contractions, which I've been having for weeks) I was released home. We assume that my cervix never dilated at all since they said this would have caused bleeding with the cerclage in place and I had none; since sticking stuff up there was the cause of the problem in the first place, we all voted to not actually check this. Needless to say, from now on, I'll be boycotting internal u/s....they can check cervical length with an external u/s, and since mine is holding steady in overall length, we can't understand why they need to measure it from the stitch. Now, if it starts to shorten overall, then I get why they need to measure from the stitch b/c you can shorten all the way to said stitch, but until it changes, let's try to keep my irritable uterus a happy camper.


Other than that, though, things are going smoothly. So now back to my original statement. The more I start to do a few things to actually get ready for this kid, the more I feel like I am "playing house". Like planning a wedding with no engagement ring. Or house shopping while being unemployed. Something along those lines of ultimate denial. I mean, we aren't doing much in comparison to most people. We have no nursery to decorate, just a small corner of our room. And I'm not having a shower since we are far away from friends (and I loathe showers), just a meet-the-kid-get-together in the spring when we can travel to our home state. But there are still a few things that I've taken the leap to do. Like today, I talked with a newborn photographer and emailed a birthing class teacher (in case I don't require/vote for a c-section...a post for another day about that impending decision). But the whole time, while setting these things up, I can't actually fathom having a kid in a few months. Here. At home. To care for. I mean, we celebrated viability with a stroller purchase while they were on their annual sale. However, I had to buy it from a place with a long return period and have yet to actually open the box. Because I can't believe a kid will be here to use this in a few months.


It's a bizarre feeling that I'm sure is totally related to IF, reading blogs who have been through late loss,  and probably also to the second half of pregnancy risks of a UU (almost as rare as unicorns... ;) )


I don't think it's something that can be fixed...I think it's more like something that will fix itself should we actually bring said kid home. But I just wanted to tell someone about it. And no one IRL would even start to get it. Maybe you all will. And maybe you can relate and will know you're not alone if you are having this bizarre thought pattern too.

i wish someone had told me this

While spending time on the pintrest, I came across a saying that I want to yell loud and clear to the IF community (including myself over the past four years). Too often, I see people say that are "giving up" when they jump of the child-seeking track to regain control and calmness in the lives. I hate those words--"giving up". Anyone who has even set a foot on this never ending roller coaster of attempting to bring a child into their lives and then CHOOSES to stop is not a quitter. No way. To stop is a decision they've made, barring certain circumstances that force their choice (though that isn't quitting either), to CHOOSE to go another direction. I'm not talking about being totally out of options medically and financially--that's a different sort of hell. I'm talking about doing everything to the very, very end because pregnancy has become a goal to be accomplished, losing sight of the ultimate desire to have a child, and along the way sacraficing everything for that *goal*--including our marriages and our sanity and our selves. Feel free to disagree--this is just how I saw treatments affect us. This saying I found especially hit me given a recent request by a friend of what advice I had to give as she and her DH go to their first RE appt after multiple loses over the past year or so. Maybe she was looking for specific test/medical advice. I don't know, but I know I'm not her doctor (and she's going to a very good clinic) and didn't need to arm her to be "that patient" on her very first visit, so instead I chose to go the route of "sage IF veteran wisdom" type advice (at least that was my hope of the content I gave her...you may disagree, and that's ok). Along with the saying, here's what I had to say to her that I wish someone had drilled into me before setting foot in the RE's office--

Source: fanpop.com via Jennifer on Pinterest

1) Educate yourself to a point. You want to be informed about what tests are looking for and what results mean, but not to the point of insanity and trying to know more than your doc which is really easy to do. So, be educated enough to know when to ask more questions, but not so overly "educated" that you begin to second guess every single thing your doc does. Every RE is a bit different and medicine is an art not a perfect science so you can always find things on google and other's experiences that will contradict your treatment plan. Thus, know enough to inquire about why something is and isn't being done, but don't lose your mind trying to become a self-trained RE.

2) Remember that you and your husband are ultimately in control of what steps you take. Going to the RE is like getting on a roller coaster and it can be very hard to step off should that point come. They will not help you with this, so you have to stay strong. While you may say certain things are off limits "forever", I don't think that's the sort of thing you can completely hold to until you get to that point in your journey. So, basically, be strong and flexible at the same time in your treatment willingness. Recognize the difference between things you'd rather not do, things that scare you right now and things that are completely out of the question b/c of your moral/religious/ethical convictions...RE's have nothing off the table, but a good one will stretch you while respecting you if that makes sense.

Season of isolation-"normal" or not?

Like many others I'm sure, I feel there are seasons to life. Not just mood changes during the day, but longer periods of time when I crave different things. Some are more social seasons--I just want to be around people, and I hate being alone. My current season is the opposite--it is a season of isolation--well, in being isolated with DH. I'm not depressed. I've been depressed, and this feels totally different. I still have great interest in doing things...just in doing them only with DH. I still have very joyful moments. I still want to get out of bed each day to tackle various activities. This feels not so much like I want to crawl in a hole, but more that I just want to pull inside of my marriage, pull up the draw bridges and keep others far for now. I guess it's the same thing, maybe just a more positive versus negative connotation.

I've tried to figure out why I have no desire to seek out social functions or accept invitations. I think part of it is the heat. I am not a hot weather person, especially when walking everywhere is my main mood of transportation. Part of it is my dog's failing health (we were on an up swing...that ended a few days ago when he took a nose dive hip-wise).

Mostly though, I think it's the fact that all through our IF treatments, I was very open with everyone around me for the most part. Not so much as we did more and more IVF cycles in terms of cycle status details, but still very proactively talkative about it all (oh my gosh, the number of people in the world that know I have half of a uterus...I know I told way too many people way more than they wanted to know). I guess I sort of feel that I was so open about all of that very private stuff that I just want to be very private about this side of journey now. After having our marriage, our sex life, my cycles, my periods, my body, his collections, his fluids allllll on display for mulitple medical teams...well, it's time to take us off display.

This has manifested itself in a few ways.

First of all, I hate talking to people, especially random people or acquaintances out in public. After suffering through many overly talkative preg persons over the years, I very much don't want to be that to someone else around me. And selfishly, I don't want to hear their well intentioned but usually misplaced comments (Of course you can have sex during pregnancy...you're doc is wrong (unsaid: even though my law degree has taught me nothing about your medical situation or high risk pregnancy). So, I won't bring up the preg or the kid, and if asked anything, I try to vaguely and quickly answering before asking the person something about them to change the topic. Most of the questions are:

1) How are you? Doing fine, thanks.
2) Do you know what you're having? A child. Should we choose to find out, it will be for us to know. Not my mother and especially not you, sweet random stranger. Because again, we are talking about something inside of me. And my insides are now off limits.
3) Oooh, is this your first? It's the first time we've made it this far. (Note, this is not said in an effort to ellicit sympathy...this is my personal way of honoring what we've been through, not forgetting our first babies-the triplets, and trying to "normalize" pregnancy loss in society so others can feel more comfortable about it if need be.

Second of all, I really really hate being asked for updates by those closer to me. Again, this feels so intrusive about something that is so personal to me. It's even worse when those who were not at all interested in our IVF cycles (read: my mother) seem to have decided to show up to my medical life now that the party is gettin' good. Sure, I'm glad she's excited. But I don't feel like being all gushy-preg talking with her now. Or with anyone. My best friends and family are quite annoyed with my lack of offering constant updates, symptom complaining and especially with my lack of offering ultrasound and bump pictures (none have been taken of the bump and the u/s ones are of my insides, so yeah, those are private), and they are all about to fall over themselves with frustration at our lack of gender reveal. Again, we are talking about my insides. And that topic is officially off limits. So, please people, get another hobby.

I'm really not trying to be a jerk. But I just can't open myself and my marriage and our private journey up again. I just can't. Not when I know they care but are also just plain curious ("What do you look like?!?!" Google 20 weeks....I'm sure there are bump pics you can examine. "How will I know what to buy it?? I need to know the gender so I can go shopping for it??" No, no you don't. I like yellow and green. And I hate lots of baby clutter. We live in 700square feet. You do not need a head start. Plus, nothing baby is coming in the apt until said baby comes in the apt.).

Of course, my behavior and lack of wanting to spend every.waking.moment discussing this kid that could still not make it home has been interpreted by my grandmother as, "Does she (me) even want this baby?". Yes, yes, that's what she said to my mom a few nights ago. Now, I don't totally fault my grandmother for this comment. She's old and we all know you can say whatever hurtful crap you want when you're past 85. Sure, it sucks, but we all put up with it for the most part because telling off grandma is a quick pass to hell. So, fine, say whatever you want behind my back. Who I do fault for this comment finding my ears, though, is my mother. She should know better than to pass along something that would be hurtful to any IF'er. What the heck was she thinking telling me this was said. Needless to say, that total lack of judgement, along with her own slightly more indirect questioning regarding my excitement level since I don't oooze pregnancy complaints around the clock has more or less cut her off of any details I am willing to divulge.

I'm not on display anymore. I will guard myself and my family against as many sucky comments as possible. And I will no longer discuss the details of what's going on inside of me.

But maybe...maybe this is just my justification for wanting to be left alone with my DH (who is finally home more often after years of overworking) to quietly and calmly enjoy each other and day we make it further, while savoring time with my best fur buddy. Maybe this isn't normal? Maybe I should be passing around pics, buying billboards to announce updates and which variety we are having. I mean, I feel excited, though cautiously so, and do some browsing for a few things I'd like to get for it even buying a couple of things as we hit milestones, and dream of how the three of us will spend our time together...but maybe the lack of public display of preg ooze really is a sign I'm not truly excited and I don't even know it. I mean, I haven't been through that much in terms of pregnancy loss, I didn't go through IVF to get this far this time, and while I am realistically high risk, things are going okay so far...so maybe I really need to get off some invisible soap box and act "normal"??

If I feel fine and excited but everyone else says I'm not....who is right?

Thoughts, insight, arguments are welcome by anyone who read this far.

cerclage fun

Today I got a dil.do cam ultrasound and an ass progesterone shot. No, you didn't miss something. My cerclage placement and high risk of preterm labor (both due to my unicornuate uterus) deems the following things necessary (many of which I wasn't totally informed about when I gave "informed" consent....not that it would have made a difference, but it would have been nice to know up front (maybe??), so I'm putting it here, so if you any of you need one, you'll know what to expect too):

1) Every other weeks ultrasounds. Via vag u/s. That (the u/s location) was a surprise today when I was told to take if off, as last week, they didn't check it that way (last week was done by the doc, this week was done by the u/s tech with no doc in the room). I was told nothing is allowed up there for fear of infection and irritating the cervix, so I'm confused and will be asking why the difference when I do see my doc in two weeks. Anyways, sure, the frequent u/s are sort of reassuring (actually, they are stressful because they break my ability to be ignorantly blissful that all is well...sure they prove that all is well, but at any moment, they could also prove that all is hell too). And, vag u/s normally wouldn't bother me at this point, but they are far more uncomfortable with my current occupant and the current occupant twinged and spasmed for a while afterwards after I got home. Which freaked me the heck out. Yeah, that can't be good. This, too, will be brought up when I see the doc in two weeks.

2) Every week "hip" (read: ass) progesterone shots. Not PIO, but a lower dose, longer acting (thus, weekly) progesterone known as 17P (brand costs $1500/wk...luckily it is still allowed to be compounded since the drug company totally jacked up the price so it's only $25/wk for the compounded variety). Anyways, I produce enough at this point on my own so it isn't replacing it like it has to after IVF retrieval. Instead, it's there to boost the levels just enough to keep the uterus calm and make it able to stretch better in hopes of delaying preterm labor, especially as my risk of loss in the second trimesters is a crazy high 40% due to the kid running out of room in such a smaller living establishment and the natural stretching ability being exceeded to accomodate continued growth.

3) No playtime of any sort. Outside in the form of exercise or inside in the form of bedtime activity. Since I'll likely go into labor in the low to (hopefully) mid 30 week range with the cerclage still in, there will be no time between removal (usually 37 weeks) and delivery (say, 40 weeks) to have some bedtime fun. After a ten month hiatus, should be a fabulous late winter/early spring (and hopefully no sooner b/c sooner means something went pretty not right)! Of course, after the dil.do cam got covered by a con.dom and allowed up there without hesitation, we would both like to know why we can't do the same to DH (not that it was at all comfortable...but anyways).

So there you have it. The cerclage rules (which do vary by doc...medicine is an art guessing game not a science). Happy to oblige, no doubt, just not always a fan of finding these things out during or after the fact. (And I did ask about some of these things...so, for example, while I knew to expect frequent u/s, they failed to mention the type they'd be. It's so not a big deal, my little psyche just was a little surprised and unprepared.)

the varying levels of confidence

So, yesterday, a fb friend announced her pregnancy with this little line: "Sammy will be a big brother in December."

Now, the announcement itself didn't really catch my attention because Sammy (who was unexpected...not in that, been trying for years, holy crap we're knocked up kind of unexpected way, but in that oops...i thought pills prevent not enable....kind of unexpected way) is two, so I sort of figured another might be on the way soon (because that's what fertiles do right?).

Anyways, no, the thing that got my attention was her use of the word "will". Such confidence. He WILL be a big brother. Oh really? My immediate thought was, "That's bold. Shit happens. Good luck with your "will"." Sure that isn't nice, but I said it was my first thought. I didn't actually type it. My next few thoughts were this (ok, still along the same lines). She hasn't reached medical viability yet (does she know about such a milestone?), and of course, medical viability is still no guarantee. Heck, read around the blogs long enough, and even full term isn't a guarantee.

So, back to "will". Sure, most people say that and assume that. Sometimes they assume that because they have to...like this has to be the take home baby because losing yet another one or losing this first one after so much pain and work is just not something their brain can even venture towards without total destruction. Sometimes, though, they assume it will all turn out okay because they know no different. They live in this slice of earth where they and their friends have had easily obtained, easily survived pregnancies with cute, living kiddos on the other end. Their slice of earth no doubt has IF and pregnancy loss, but those people are silent or are not acknowledged. Therefore, they still have the confidence in the goodness of the world and the sweetness of pregnancy to use the word "will" for something we all know to be one of the biggest miracle/luck/illogical happenings in life. Again, friend, good luck with "will". I'll take my "hopefully, maybe, possibly" and my huge load of absolute, fall on my face, gratefulness because I know "will" is not inevitable. And that's ok.

Cerclage survival and coming out post

So, I survived yesterday's cerclage placement. The spinal was not bad at all. Honestly. It hurt less than the IV (which I'm pretty sure she put straight into my forearm muscle). Anyways, the spinal was way more mental. The anesthesiologist talked through the whole thing and I learned that it goes into some fluid that is a few layers away from my spinal cord, using a PIO sized needle (for real). During it, the lidocaine burned a little going in, but the nurse was a good talker so our chat distracted me. Then the actual medicine came next, and I could only feel pressure--like someone poking their finger into your back a bit hard. It was totally tolerable. Seriously.

The cerclage on the other hand...holey moley...that sucker hurt like hell. Yes, that was the point of the spinal, but we're thinking the doc rushed it a bit and it wasn't fully in affect (though all their "ready to go? test" areas were good and numb). So while I felt significant of pulling and tugging, but not needle inserting pain, like I was told to expect, about half way through I became totally distracted from the tugging by the worst deep internal cramping of my life (read: this is not normal...supposedly). Like pick me off the table, yell fuck really loud in the OR cramping. It was far worse than my first HSG ever thought of being (and that was horrible b/c they kept aiming wrong). So, at the last minute in the OR, I was given a dose of two other pain meds because keeping going halfway through stitching was a better idea than quitting, as the stitching part was going well. I wasn't sure if the cramping or the preg safe meds was worse for the kid, but the docs felt the meds route instead of the cramping, screaming, crawling off the table approach was better. Luckily, they were quickly done after that and the actual stitch part went very well. They didn't hit anything other than the cervix they were aiming for and I had next to no bleeding during the procedure. 

Afterwards, they ultrasounded me and the kid. That's when things got (even) scarier for me. Turns out these preg safe drugs they gave me half way through not only made me a little sleepy, they also made the kid a little sleepy. It's HB stayed fine the whole time, but it was moving wayyy less than at our NT scan right after the procedure. Begin complete and utter freak out melt down. The doc tried to reassure me it would wake back up as the very, very low dose of preg safe drugs wore off. I chose to ignore him and his 30 years of high risk pregnancy expertise and continue sobbing that I failed my DH by having such painful cramps and that I failed the kid in not protecting it already. 

They ultrasounded me again about five hours later before I went home (takes the spinal a while to wear off and takes the team a while to get you out of there), and the kid was moving more. Still not as much as at the NT scan in my opinion, but my smart DH said it was a less detailed machine and because it was different view--the NT scan when the kid was seen jumping was from the side so you could see it all, while this u/s was from head down, so jumping would be like the head getting near and farther from the screen--hard to tell for at leaste. We did see legs moving, and again a great HB, so maybe it was jumping and just much harder to tell. The doctors continued to reassure me all was great, all was well, and I am trying to remember that and stay calm. Anyways, a bit of expected red-brown discharge afterwards that has all but stopped today and no cramps since in the OR, and hopefully we are continuing on way to a healthy kiddo. Overall, the entire medical team took exceptional care of me (minus the maybe starting a bit quickly in the OR). I felt listened to, cared for, and hopeful to return in December for delivery. 

Oy. 

Today was also the day I decided to come out on fb too before we visit our former home city and in laws next week and someone does it for me. Thanks so much for your comments the other day on what I planned to write. I wanted to also let you all see another comment that didn't make it to the blog post b/c blogger sometimes sucks, but was so well put and exactly the reason I wanted to put an announcement on fb at all. This comes from the always insightful and sarcastic ~C~ from The Port of Indecision:

"You know, I'm okay with pg announcements on FB. I've said this before on other people's blogs, but I really do think that the refusal to announce becomes its own sort of attention whoring. One person WILL say something, and then everyone will be jumping in with "OMG :: squee!! :: I had NO IDEA, why are you holding back on us" and pretty soon your entire page will be full of people vomiting their pleasure at your pregnancy and how they think you're a naughty girl for not making an announcement. But when you do make the announcement, then everyone just "likes" it and comments right under that post. Smell what I'm steppin' in?

Honestly, I think only the first sentence is even necessary. If people feel they need to block you, they will whether you mention it or not. And your humble phrasing of the announcement itself conveys the fact that you won't go all Fertile Ho about your pregnancy on your FB page."

So, I emailed the very few IF fb friends I know I have (though I suspect I have more, but it's just a guess) to give them warning if they wanted to hide me, and then I posted this (please universe, don't hate me!): After four years of infertility, multiple treatments and a few lost heartbeats, I am grateful and humbled to be a third of the way through pregnancy. 

So, that's all the excitement from my slice of the world for now. And that's really plenty for me!

Into and Out of This World

Tonight, there is a parent praying that her child will be carried out of this world into the next so that the present suffering will end. Somewhere else, there is a parent-to-hopefully-be praying that his future child will be carried into this world tonight so that the future joy can begin. Both prayers and situations are heartbreaking in their own right and their own merit. And both require a massive amount of strength that neither person would really have ever wanted to have developed.

Tonight as I desperately pray for a return of my missing symptoms, on the same day that our triplets were found to be gone, so that we can have peace for another day and someday bring our child into this world, I also stand in shear amazement and utter admiration of a certain mother calmly, yet fiercely, praying for a peaceful journey as her very ill child crosses out of this world and into the next.