When you miscarry or are in some way not able to get/be pregnant, everyone else in the world is suddenly pregnant or with multiple children. This is my truth.
The last 3 weeks have been an eternity. I had 21 pregnant days. I was beyond ready to ditch the infertility train in pursuit of a healthy pregnancy and, nine months later, a baby. Last Friday, the nurse at my doctor's office confirmed that my HcG levels were doubling normally but cautioned that---this early---things could really go either way. I'm not sure what she meant by that and I didn't care at the time. Everything was moving along as it should have been. The numbers don't lie.
Slowly I began to let others know. At my very core, I am not a 12 week wait-er. That's really all you need to know about me. Apply that to everything else, too. Oh, that gratification of telling close friends and family members that after years of trying, a pregnancy! Nothing better. At 5 weeks, my breasts were twice as big as they had been 3 weeks earlier. And vein-y. I started feeling bloated and, well, pregnant. My whole mental process revolved around my pregnancy---I did everything as I normally would, only I was doing it pregnant. As in, sure, hubs, I'll move that ladder but do you really think that is a good idea? Or, I mean, I'm not particularly hungry but this is probably my last pregnancy and that chocolate bunny just said my name. Does that make sense?
The last month had been an everything but the kitchen sink month. Limited caffeine and no alcohol. The Mormon plan. Plus Fertilitea, Ovacue, FertilAid, FertileCM, good sleep, low stress. Limited exercise (but, of course, just enough to keep the system running smoothly). And it worked! I got pregnant. And that hasn't happened since my ectopic in October 2009. I wasn't taking any fertility drugs and did not go through with the IUI. Just good old-fashioned babymaking.
Others around me began to suspect. I think I put off that aura of pregnancy goodness (i.e., alcohol-freeness, and there's a certain superiority that comes with that, let's be honest). Pregnant ladies and dead people: Saints. You know, infertility has been such a growing burden on my energies these last few years---the pain of it really grows as you begin to suspect/realize that the possibility of actually conceiving another baby is actually in question. I think the thing that has troubled me the most (and for many reasons) is that my body is somehow responsible for not being able to make a baby. And then, with that in mind, what can I be doing differently?
I will take that and run with it. My mind goes there and beyond. If I made a list for you of all the different formulas I've come up with to get pregnant, you'd fall asleep before you got to the end. I think B's eyes roll back into his head when I start putting together a new action plan. It just doesn't matter like this to people who have not been through it. Of course, that is, except people love you and worry. And that matters! But, seriously, I would never have had any idea about any of this if I had not experienced it. I liken it to parenting. When you don't have a child, you have no concept of the breadth.
And I do have one. My sweetest, who will be five this summer. Honestly, with all of the excitement, B and I made the "mistake" of telling her she was going to have a sibling. Although her immediate reaction to it was, "I don't want another baby. You already have one," I could tell she was beginning to warm to the idea. She developed a theme around being bossy and controlling of the little one (of course) and thought she'd have to show it the ropes---i.e.,
THE BABY CANNOT TAKE MY BATH TOYS OR SLEEP WITH ME AND I AM NOT CHANGING THE BABY'S DIAPERS AND IF THE BABY THINKS IT CAN HAVE MY STUFFED ANIMALS IT IS WRONG AND I ONLY WANT A SISTER AND CAN WE MAKE THE BABY EAT VEGETABLES?
When we told her about the miscarriage, we told her that there was a seed that didn't look like it would continue to grow---just like some of the seeds we had planted for our garden. That, sometimes, that's what happens and we'll just have to try again with a different seed. She was incredibly sympathetic to me because she could tell I had been crying on the way home from the doctor. She and B were painting my portrait when I got home. "Maybe it is because she ate too many vegetables," she had said to B. I totally love my family.
I've had two ultrasounds and they haven't been able to find a mass of any kind in my reproductive junk. I had my blood drawn again today and will await the doctor's call regarding whether further treatment is needed. He's leaning toward miscarriage---and I'm grateful for that. We are off to Georgia on Wednesday (MeMe's come to be with us here and will travel back to Georgia, too) and I can't be around for Methotrexate. You like that? I can't be around for Methotrexate. I'm going on vacation!
We'll try again, of course. And I've made an appointment with the Pittsburgh IVF clinic. It's a drive but I have not been completely satisfied with the care I've received at my current doctor's office. I'm more confidant taking these issues back to an actual Reproductive Endocrinologist. And a female, landsakes. Lordy be.
So, that's what's up. I have been staring a lot these last few days. Don't try to have a conversation with me! I am all up in my head, trying to make sense of this bit of brokenness. Sure, I've wondered Why? But I think I am most comfortable with the idea that there is no why, that this is something that happens. Even to me. Something that makes me feel even more the beauty and sadness that comes with the journey. Something I'll get past.
Hugs and kisses.
