Saying goodbye

Last Friday, I had a D&C.  I would have been 9w3d pregnant.

The past month has been a whirlwind.  It's unbelievable to me that it was really only a few weeks ago that I took those pregnancy tests and this whole thing began.  If you'd told me we'd get pregnant within 6 weeks of going off the pill, I would have laughed.  If you'd told me that my first pregnancy wouldn't be viable, I would have called you a liar.  However, that is the truth of the situation and having gone through what I have now, I'll never quite look at myself in the same way again.  

When I went to see my doctor last Friday,  I was ready to have him perform the D&C to remove all traces of the tiny being inside me - the little embryo that never developed a heartbeat and was never destined to join us in the world.  My body obviously still hadn't caught up to the fact that "peanut" wasn't alive, and I was ready to move on and find closure.  I have been strangely calm over the last couple of weeks but sitting in my doctor's office while the nurse was scheduling my procedure with the hospital, and a miriad of hugely pregnant ladies wandered in and out of the waiting room, the bubble burst.  I just cried out everything that had been held up inside me.

My husband just started a new job, so for the first time during this whole process, he wasn't by my side.  I called my mother-in-law to take me to the hospital that afternoon, feeling at least optimistic that all the waiting would finally be over.  This would be my first time admitted to a hospital, in surgery, and under anesthesia.  They prepped me to be in the operating room, put in the IV, and I went from talking about Harry Potter with the nurses in the OR to waking up in recovery.  It seemed almost like I'd just woken up from a nap, but all I felt was a sense of relief that it was over.  I wanted my husband desperately and, fortunately, he'd made it to the hospital while I was in recovery, so was waiting for me in the patient rooms upstairs.

I'm so grateful that every single nurse that attended to me at the hospital was simply wonderful.  I've never had a group of complete strangers provide me with such a sense of comfort and security in my most difficult time.  I had decided when picking my OB that this was the hospital I wanted to deliver at, incidentally being the very same hospital where my husband was born.  After my experience there, I know for sure that when the time comes, it is the right place.  The nurses were all so sweet, saying how they hoped they'd see me again but in the delivery rooms next time around.  I hope they're right.  I also can't say enough about my OB.  I have only known him for a few weeks, but I trust him implicitly to provide the best care possible for me, and my future family.

By the end of the weekend, the spotting had stopped and I was back to feeling pretty normal - until last night.  I probably over-exerted myself a little bit, and next thing I know I'm dealing with horrendous cramping and I woke up in the middle of the night to bleeding.  I guess this is pretty normal in the first couple of weeks after a D&C, but it feels like a kick in the teeth.  It's a reminder that my desire for closure isn't quite fulfilled.  I'm trying to think of this in terms of my body needing to cleanse itself in order to reset, to provide a fresh start.  However, it's really just another reminder of what we've lost, and that's just so hard.

I know that what I'm going through is sadly so common.  I know that there's nothing I did, or didn't do, to cause this.  I know that there are millions of women in the world that have also gone through this, including my own mother.  I know that with time my body and mind will heal, and we'll start over.  I know that I have the strength to make it through this - the hardest thing I've ever had to endure.

Dear Peanut

It's amazing what a difference a few short weeks can make.
You were only inside me for a short time, but you'll always be a 

part of me.   I don't know how to explain the sadness that you
weren't able to stick around and, although I understand that there 

was good reason that you couldn't stay, it doesn't make it any 

easier to say goodbye.

You've changed me as a person.  I'll never be the same as I was 

before you.  You were everything to your daddy and 

me - you showed us a future that just seemed like a distant 

dream before you were in our lives.  

You may be gone, but you'll never be forgotten.  

I will carry you in my heart always.

~Mama~

Waiting to exhale

There's been a lot I've wanted to post over the last week, but admittedly it's been hard to find the words.  Finally, I think I'm ready to explain this rollercoaster ride we've been on.

Two Fridays ago, we had our highly anticipated first OB appointment.  Naturally, we were nervous but so excited to finally catch a glimpse of the tiny being growing inside of me.  The doctor appointment was going well, everything appearing normal.  I couldn't help but laugh at my husband's face while the nurse was essentially putting lube and a condom on the "wand" for the transvaginal ultrasound.  In fact, when the doctor asked him to come stand by me so we could both see the ultrasound clearly, we were still giggling like little kids.  After a few seconds, we saw a little blob and I think my heart must have skipped a beat seeing that tiny little fuzzy patch on the monitor...and then our world came crashing down around us.  Our doc became very quiet and gently said that he was concerned that he couldn't see a heart beat.  He checked a little more and took some measurements.  At 7 weeks 3 days along, I was only showing at 6.5 weeks.  With not being able to see the flutter of the heart, he said that he wanted to send me for blood tests to check my hormone levels and try to figure out what's going on. 

The following Monday, I dropped by a lab to have my blood drawn again.  I was called in and right before she stabbed with the needle, the nurse happily announced that she was "feeling jittery" and had probably had too much coffee.  Sure enough, it was probably the bloodiest blood draw I've had in a while and resulted in a nice red bruise, ironically about the same size as the little peanut in my uterus.  I figured the pain is worth it to know that my baby is doing well.  Turns out that the blood test results were actually very normal.  The hCg hormone was still rising (up to 93K over the weekend) and my progesterone levels were on the low end of normal, but not conclusive.  My OB noted that from this point, it could go both ways and he was cautiously optimistic for the success of the pregnancy.  I took this to be hopeful, but I'd already been preparing for the worst for several days at this point.  I had words with peanut, asking it to hang in there.  I was hopeful that that extreme nausea and tiredness wasn't a result of anxiety, but a sign from the little one that it was doing ok. 

Last Friday, we went in for a secondary ultrasound with a substitute OB while mine is out of town.  He was happy that my cervix was still closed with no bleeding or cramping.  Once again, hooked up to the ultrasound machine, but no giggling this time around.  We could see a large gestational sac, but no yolk sac or fetal pole, and still no heartbeat.  At 8w3d, it sank in that we'd lost this baby. 

So, here I am, waiting to miscarry.  I'm waiting to see if my body figures out what's going on in the next few days, but have an appointment with my regular OB later this week to consider the option of a D&C to remove the tissue from my uterus.  It's strange to think of it in such clinical terms.  A part of me is wondering why I'm not more of a mess.  In fact, there are a few family members who seem to be having a harder time with this situation than me (or my husband).  We almost feel guilty that we're so calm - but I look at this as something that happened with good reason.  My body knows what's best and if it knew that this wasn't going to be a healthy pregnancy, better that we have to deal with this now than bigger complications later on.  As much as it hurts, I know which I prefer.  We will have opportunity to try again - we weren't expecting to fall pregnant within 6 weeks anyway and we're fortunate to know that we even have that option. 

At this point, there is nothing to do but wait.  I've always heard that it's not possible to be "kind of pregnant", although I'm feeling somewhat inclined to disagree.  I'm pregnant, but not, and it's a weird limbo to be in. 

So cute!

Weekend before last, husband and I took a trip to visit my brother and husband's parents.  My brother works at a fancy schmanzy restaurant in Vegas, which works out well for me because I get to seriously overeat on some of the most decadent fine-dining....for free.  I was just thankful that I haven't suffered from any food aversions as yet, because I was happy to scarf down all the food that was put in front of me. 

Eating out at my brother's restaurant is really one of those psuedo-celebrity experiences.  All the staff come to by introduce themselves, and take extra care to make sure that you're satisfied with your meal.  After all, I'm the sister of one of the boss men, therefore they don't want to risk messing something up.  This time around though, he'd informed several members of his staff that I'm expecting and as if I didn't already feel spoiled, this made it even worse!  There were various rounds of congratulations from various different servers, and managers, and then to top it off, my dessert arrived.

First, my hormones got the better of me and I started to tear up at just how freakin' cute my little brother can be.  Then, after the server had retreated from the table, I immediately stuck my spoon in it, before remembering "oh crap, I need to take a picture".  [I guess part of the moral here being to not get between a pregnant woman and her creme brulee.]

My brother meanwhile shrugged and said "what can I say? I'm a proud uncle." 

Catching my breath!

This week has been a whirlwind.  I finally got to see my regular doctor on Monday, had the blood test, and Tuesday was given the confirmation that I am indeed 5 weeks along.  My estimated due date is Feb 21, 2012.  I always said I didn't want to be carrying around an extra 30 lbs of baby during the middle of summer when it's hot as hell, so I guess our timing was excellent in that regard!

Next thing was to find an OB/GYN, which was a daunting task at first.  My doctor had given me a short list of suggested OBs nearby, and decided to start off by checking reviews online.  Let me tell you that it was a daunting process.  One of the docs had great reviews on Yelp, but it seemed like every reviewer had a C-Section.  Now, I'm not adverse to the concept of a C-Section, but I certainly do not want that to be pushed upon me by an OB with an agenda.  Then there were a slew of OBs with reviews that fell into the "loved them they were amazing!" or "they have the worst bedside manner and wish I'd had a different doctor".  Just not encouraging.  Even worse were the occasional "he nearly killed me" reviews, which just makes any expectant mother want to run screaming I would imagine.

Having exhausted all the possibilities for an OB at the hospital nearest me, I decided to branch out to the nearest hospital with a good maternity ward in the other direction from home, which also happens to be the hospital where my husband was delivered.  Like magic my dream OB jumped off the computer screen.  This guy has 5 stars across the board from every website providing reviews.  He also has multiple awards from the Patient's Choice web site - which logs ratings and awards by patients.  Even better, he's in network for my insurance, and accepting patients to boot.  My first appointment with him is on July 8th.  So, I have to spend the next 2 weeks being patient, but it'll be worth it to have my first ultra-sound and get to see the little seed that's growing in there.

Finally, there was the task of telling immediate family.  Husband's family have been gently "encouraging" us for a while now, ever since his younger sister had her first (and is now expecting again).  The phone calls came back-to-back:
- My preggo sister-in-law sounding practically more excited about my pregnancy than her own; offering me books, clothing, and overall support for the fact we're simultaneously carrying cousins.
- My father-in-law and step-mother-in-law sounding giddy and ready for a celebratory drink.  I told them to enjoy a drink for me seeing as it's not like I can partake for a long while.
- My mother-in-law concerned about my symptoms (which incidentally are pretty minimal) and providing the advice as a mother of three can.  We discussed the doctor I've chosen, the hospital I'm considering, and generally what to expect.
- The grandparents, who are just thrilled to be in anticipation of their third great-grandchild.  It is indeed a wonderful thing to be able to celebrate.

The task of telling my family seemed strangely more daunting.  My younger brother was speechless for a moment, then really excited, and has been texting me [terrible] name suggestions ever since.  He may not admit it, but I can tell he's thrilled to be an uncle for the first time.  As for my parents, it took me a while to get hold of them given that they live in England and there's the time-zone issue.  I started to get nervous and psych myself out - it's like I was a teenager again and preparing to give an explanation for why I showed up on the front doorstep drunk.  The more I thought about it, the worse it got, and then the guilt kicked in because they would be the last to know.  So, when my mom finally picked up the phone and I delivered the news, I can't really explain the overwhelming sense of relief that overcame me as I heard the words "that's good news!" come out of her mouth.  I think in some way my parents knew it may be coming.  As my dad pointed out, I've been "broody" for a while.  We're not sure how they're going to make it out for the birth considering there's the whole international travel aspect, but it's already at the forefront of my mother's mind. 

It wasn't brief, but that's what's happening.  I'm happy to say that all is right in my world.

I peed on a stick

As of two days ago, it appeared that my period was late and my basal body temperature was still high.  I told my husband that I'd be picking up some home pregnancy tests on the way home.  The logic being that either I'm pregnant or the mere act of buying them would remind my period that it's supposed to be here.  

Yesterday morning, I woke up, peed on a stick (ok, well technically peed in a cup and then deposited said pee on a stick), and set off the timer on my phone.  About a minute later, a faint line showed up next to the control line.  I double checked the box, double checked the line, held it up to the light thinking maybe my eyes were messing with me, then went to wake the husband for a second opinion.  His first response was "but it's hardly there" and then padded back off to bed.  So, I peed again, grabbed a second test...SAME THING!  This time, after shoving the proof in his face, husband smiled, then mumbled something about having super sperm.  I went off to work quietly contemplating the fact that I am apparently preggo.  

It does explain why I've been kind of tired, very gassy, and was feeling like my usual swim workout was tougher than usual.  I had also had a dream last week that I was pregnant, and chalked that up to pregnancy being part of my subconscious desire.  Even now as I'm typing this, I'm prematurely awake as a result of a wave of nausea that hit me obnoxiously early this morning.  It's like this tiny little seed that's inside my body is trying to find a way to say hi.      

Of course, it still hasn't quite sunk in (and probably still won't for a few days).  Husband insisted that I make an appointment with my doctor immediately - in part because I'm convinced he needs to hear it from the doctor himself - so I have my first pre-natal visit on Monday.  It was so cute talking to the girls at the doctor's office when making my appointment, because they were so cautious to make sure this was wanted before offering friendly congratulations.  Yup, officially that's freakin' weird but so damn exciting!  

Somebody's watching me....

Several weeks ago, I randomly received a copy of "American Baby" magazine in the mail.  I'd only just gone off the pill, so I found the timing to be pretty coincidental (and of course pretty cool because, hey, free magazine).  A couple of days later, the Gerber coupons arrived.  I couldn't quite tell if husband found this to be amusing or utterly disturbing - even after my insistence that I hadn't gone completely psycho baby-crazy and started signing up for random baby things online.  He put it down to data mining and internet cookies.

Then, yesterday, the final whammy arrived in the mail.  I got a nice little postcard from my health insurance company telling me about their new program for expectant mothers.  It's a free program with a 24-hour hotline to speak with a nurse during the course of the pregnancy, in addition to reading materials for various stages of pregnancy, an immunization calendar and a host of other things to promote a healthy pregnancy.  It said to give them a call to enroll as soon as I'm pregnant.  I personally think the program sounds great, but how did my health insurance know?  Granted, I saw my doctor for my annual exam, and pregnancy was discussed at the time, but did she give them a full report, or are they just making assumptions based on my age and the blood tests she ran? 

I'm starting to think that somebody implanted a bug in my brain that's transmitting signals to third parties indicating that it's baby time...

Which is it?

I spent so much of my life on the pill that I was very curious how my body would react to being off birth control.  When I saw my doctor, she told me to call her in 6-8 weeks if I hadn't had my period - because either my cycle wasn't regulating yet (which it should be) or I'm pregnant.  I've heard many stories about people not getting their regular period the first month after going off the pill, so in my head this was bound to happen to me. 

Last night, I had some light cramps and discovered a little spotting.  In that I was quite sure that I hadn't ovulated yet, I figured that this might actually be ovulation.  While not everybody feels ovulation (a/k/a "mittelschmerz"), about 20% percentage of women do.  I have a close friend who told me that she could very distinctly feel it, but only on her left side.  Spotting can be a symptom of ovulation, while other symptoms also mirror menstruation, such as abdominal pain, headache, bloating and breast tenderness.  While looking up ovulation symptoms, for the umpteenth time, I also came across symptoms associated with implantation, which occurs when the egg burrows into the lining of the uterus.  Implantation and pregnancy symptoms can also be similar to menstrual symptoms and up to 30% of women have light spotting during early pregnancy. 

So, what's the take away from this?  Both ovulation and implantation can actually mimic menstruation in certain ways and the spotting I was experiencing could be one of several things.  Needless to say, I woke up this morning with my period. It occurred to me that if I were still on the pill, my period would have been due yesterday, so yay for having a nice regular cycle at least.  What I'm not as happy with is that my body decided to go the complete opposite from what I was expecting and has delivered a very heavy period (excuse the TMI).  This is one of the reasons I went on the pill in the first place (although I'm thankful for manageable cramping that hasn't involved copious amounts of OTC drugs so far).

Now that I have the first month and first cycle out of the unknown, looking forward to starting tracking everything all over again.  :)