Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category


Moving My Blog**

September 12, 2009

I hate moving my blog but it seems that I must. Someone may be reading my blog who I don’t feel comfortable reading. Part of me tells myself not to care, but I know I won’t be able to be fully honest and real knowing this person may be reading and being honest about what I’m going through is the point of this blog [I’ll explain at the other site what happened]. So regretfully, I will be moving to a new undisclosed location Monday, September 14. I’ve enjoyed the community I’ve made here and I hope moving does not mean goodbye. If you would like the link to my new blog, please leave a comment or send me an e-mail at twoweekwaitblog at gmail dot com and I will gladly send you the link.  I will keep this post up indefinitely but within the week I am removing all my other posts. They will be transferred to my new blog.  Thank you to all who read, and I look forward to keeping up the writing and the reading of blogs, just from a different spot!

**Incase anyone is wondering how I’m sending the link, its to your e-mail address that shows up when you leave a comment, so if you’re looking for the link, please check your email address, thanks!**


My hematologist, etc

September 10, 2009

I saw the hematologist today and it took him over an hour to see me for what was a two minute consultation. He said I’m fine. Some stuff that was positive before is now negative though he doesn’t know why the change and he said that my miscarriages are not because my clotting issues. He said lovenox is pointless for me. I don’t know if I’m reading too much into this but these are the three areas that still showed up as issues, and his don’t worry about it mantra just isn’t sitting well with me:

MTHFR: This is a gene associated with higher risk of nueral tube defects and miscarriages. I have one mutation (C677t). Dr. F said since its only one mutation not two he’s not concerned. But- there are doctors who recommend lovenox and increasing folic acid and B6 and B12 for one mutation. Plus, Jack could have a MTHFR mutation, which when combined could give me two. He said there are no known ways to treat MTHFR. But, there are! Maybe the effectiveness is in question but there is a protocol.

Factor VIII Activity: Normal is 50-150. I’m 164. He said its okay since this clotting factor rises in pregnancy, except the lab results he gave me say these numbers may be elevated in late pregnancy. I’m hopefully six weeks today so how is this elevated due to pregnancy?

Plasminogen Activity: Normal is 78-130. I’m at 150. He said this nixes the Factor VIII so no worries.

I’m going to talk to my OBGYN about this but Dr. F said he’d tell my doctor I don’t need Lovenox. I strongly disagree and hope she maintains her stance. The veins and arteries the uterus are often microscopic and so clots that would be inconsequential to me would be huge to a growing fetus and if this can save this pregnancy I am taking it.

(The random aside):You might have noticed in my many blog posts about my friends- it seems I’m not having the best of luck. We were having a small dinner at our house on Saturday and four people are bailing TODAY out of eight people. We thought about who we could invite now and could think of no one. While I believe that quality matters in friends, not just quantity it makes me sad that I have no one else I want to invite. I could definitely be part of the community if I wanted but all the girls I know talk about are things I don’t care about and, this is just me, but I don’t feel they are genuine and what’s the point of being friends with people who aren’t sincere. I am sure I have a ton of flaws that people could point out, but one thing I am is a genuine and sincere person. I don’t fake it, and if I care about you and you hurt me I can’t get over it. I’m not sure if its hormones making me weepy, but I just feel sad. I quit facebook because I got tired of the constant birthing announcements and updates on every little thing junior did, but quitting facebook is akin to social suicide these days. I’d like to think a good friendship will survive deactivating facebook but it turns out I have few such friends. Add to that not attending baby showers for about a year- yeah. IF killed my friendships it seems. And today, this makes me sad.

(The self check): After that huge pity party I threw for myself (thank you for attending) I need to get a grip. Susan at sprogblogger does a daily days of grace list on her blog and I think I need to do a similar thing just to help myself get out of my funk, so here goes:

1. Having dinner with Jack at my favorite steakhouse to celebrate my “retirement” from work today.
2. I no longer have to work at my toxic work environment.
3. I can sleep in tomorrow and not feel a lick of guilt.
4. Today, I am six weeks along and as of now, to the best of my knowledge, I am still the P word.

Okay, that helped. Thanks for listening.


The 30th crossroad

September 3, 2009

Tomorrow I turn thirty. I began dreading this birthday since I turned 13. At 13 I volunteered with my pretty young guidance counselor. She seemed so cool and put together and one day, as I sat in her office organizing papers, she let out a loud gasp as she stared at her calender.  I turn thirty in less than a month! She looked at me with large eyes I’m going to be so OLD. How did this happen? Note to anyone reading: Don’t seek consolation on turning 30 from a thirteen year old. I just stared at her with my heart pounding because why yes, thirty is really REALLY old.

It’s funny that now I am pretty much thirty, I don’t feel quite as depressed or sad as I thought I’d feel. I’m just struck by life and how deceptive it is. Each day feels much like the last, lulling us into a false sense of security that nothing will really change but before we know it nothing is the same, we just weren’t present to watch the season change.

I begin my thirties quitting my job and staring into a blank well of possibility. Will I succeed and become the published author I want to be? I begin my thirties with a child growing in my womb. Will my thirties involve changing her diapers and combing her precious dark hair? My father called me today and he got emotional about my childhood. He apologized saying I dont know why I’m so emotional these days. It hurt my heart. He is more emotional lately. My strong father who fixes cars and cuts down trees, tears spring from his eyes with the slightest provocation. This too is a change and it puts a funny feeling in my gut that I cannot identify.

As I turn thirty, I stand at a cross road with my career and my family. It could go either way. I sit here today and admit to myself I have no symptoms. No nausea, tender breasts, or irritability that was my companion just yesterday.  So much is out of my hands and if I focus to long I feel dizzy like I’m alice falling through the rabbit hole. But there are things that remind me of sure footed ground: I have a husband with whom I grow closer each day. I walk each evening with him in our neighborhood taking in the scent of jasmine in the night air. I finished a novel and whether or not it publishes, no one can take this accomplishment away from me. And today, in this moment as I type these words, life grows inside of me. I cannot speak for tomorrow, but today this is the truth, and today is a good day.

Here’s to thirty, my blank canvas. I hope it will be a good decade.


It lies under the surface

August 26, 2009

4am today Jack shook me awake. You were yelling Why?! over and over again, he said with a bewildered expression.  I have no recollection but Jack told me I’ve been having outbursts like this the past few weeks.

I thought I’ve been dealing with my second loss better. I don’t cry daily. I don’t sit and fixate on what happened. I felt relieved that somehow I’d manage to hurt less this go around. Today as I made an appointment I turned a page in my agenda and bug’s u/s picture drifted out and landed in my lap. It’s been a month since I lost bug.  Her presence in my womb while my numbers tanked shocked my doctors, but there it was, a fact I will never forget: My bug was a fighter. She wanted so badly to survive. For the time she lived, she beat the odds.

I keep telling myself not to mourn this loss. Missing bug makes me feel I’m missing a mirage. But apparently subconsciously I am missing bug like crazy. I’ve wondered for some time why I showed my mom the u/s pics when she visited me after my loss. She saw it and burst into tears and kissed the picture holding it close to her chest. I felt a weird sense of relief. Now I think I know why. I think its because I wanted someone else to care. If someone else cared, bug was real, bug mattered.

Today at my hematology appointment the doctor said how far along were you when you lost your two children, I’m sorry, I meant, your babies? I felt like someone jolted me. It took all I had to not to bite my lip from crying, not of sadness necessarily but relief. He got it. He didn’t try to negate my pain with neutral words such as “losses or incidents”. He called them my babies. No one IRL ever called them that before.

Long story short, the hematologist ordered THIRTY different labs on me. He said the current results don’t indicate there is a medical need for lovenox so wanted further testing. The results come back in two weeks. As I was leaving the med tech who drew my blood approached me. Listen, he said, I read your chart. What’s happened to you is horrible. I really hope that whatever is wrong we here will find out and fix it for you.

I’ve been so busy trying to move forward I haven’t really looked back. Yes I’m jolted by grief from time to time but I try not to look at it too deeply. I run, or put on music, or turn on the TV. I’ve learned something today: you can run from the past but it catches up to you, releasing from you like the steam from a volcano. What you hold in will either come out or destroy you from the inside. I’m grateful for being the P word again, and despite the past I remain hopeful and grateful for the opportunity to try again. Still, I will never forget who I lost, and today on this one month anniversary I’m allowing myself a moment to grieve my little fighter.



August 7, 2009

Please visit Susan at  Sprogblogger and send her some love. She just found out she lost her baby just as she was reaching the second trimester. My heart is in two. The successes of my fellow IF sisters feels like my own and their losses cut me twice as deep because I know how hollow that ache is and how deep the knife of grief can twist. Why. Why. Why. Some questions have no answer. What answer would suffice?

Life moves very fast; it rushes us from heaven to hell in a matter of seconds- Paul Coelho



July 28, 2009

Cupcakes are a comfort in times of grief. Finishing off the last of our cupcakes, Jack turned to me and asked, do you want the ring on top of the cupcake? I smirked ofcourse! He raised his eyebrows and brought it to me, the little plastic ring with an Ice Age logo. I’m kidding I said. You know, he said looking at the ring, when we have kids and buy cupcakes, they’re going to wake up in the morning and see their parents ate them all. I responded, well maybe they won’t like cupcakes and just be happy with the trinkets on top. And there, I felt an imperceptible gasp as I dared consider our future children, and the cupcakes they may someday eat.

I feel lost at the moment but I have faith that one day I will find my way. I’m seeing an RE September 1. Days before my 30th birthday. Jack urges me to put away the past and look to the future. Take my thirtieth birthday as a fresh slate, to start a new decade with better understanding of my conditions and perhaps hope, hope against hope, that we will find a way to make sure it won’t happen again.

My journey in infertility and loss feels like a climb to the summit of Mount Everest. Every few steps a strong wind shoves me down, but each shove, each fall arms me with more knowledge of the patterns of the wind, the slipperiness of the slope. One day I will reach the summit. I might need to take a break as I learn more about my journey and there will be days I will doubt I have the strength to continue, but I see my little girl or boy at the top of the summit and I know I will continue climbing.


Thoughts post-miscarriage #2

July 26, 2009

I’m sure anyone who battles infertility and anyone who has the loss of miscarriages under their belt never could have imagined how difficult having a child would be. I had an inkling due to my irregular periods that I would battle infertility. I never knew I would face the pain of miscarriage, twice. So far. What do I make of two miscarriages with two heartbeats? Is it a progesterone problem, since I was borderline two weeks ago. Is it my HCG doesn’t know how to double? Is it the lupus anticoagulant? Is it my cervix or uterus that find child carrying bothersome? I hope against all hope that an RE will know the answer. All I know is I’m sad, I’m angry, and I feel guilty as hell. I am aware the guilt is illogical but its real and throbs in my chest.

1. I feel guilty that babies with heartbeats that are supposed to have less than 2% chance of dying, die in my womb. I’m so sorry to have brought them into this world only to have left without a kiss or a hug.

2. I feel guilty that thanks to my fucked up body Jack isn’t a father. He told me last night, as though reading my mind, I want a baby with you, and if its not with you then with no one else. Still, the guilt eats away at my soul. God, he’d be a good father. He would rock her to sleep and teach her tennis. I wish I had it in my power to give him a child.

3. I feel guilty that thanks to my fucked up body my parents are not grandparents.  They want it bad and I can’t give it. God knows, I try. I do my best but I can’t seem to follow through. They are coming this weekend and I feel a strong lump in my throat. They should be coming to spoil a grandchild. Every interaction we have feels empty to me because there is not a child. My parents will not live forever. I’m so afraid they’ll never meet their grandchild.

Grief and guilt intermingle through my veins in equal parts. Jack wants to wait at least three months. He says we should make an appointment with an RE and figure stuff out and just spend some time not thinking about baby making. I don’t know what to make of it. On one hand I want to try again. Yes I got pregnant twice back to back but I don’t take it for granted. I spent 13 months trying in vain. I know how long the stretch can be. Each month we wait feels like time that I can’t get back, time wasted in the babymaking game. Then on the other hand it makes sense. I can workout and lose the ten pounds Ive been battling. I get three months of not TTC, or TWWing. God knows TWWs suck. Maybe it would do me good. I’m scared to risk three losses in a year. but you’re most fertile post-miscarriage. All these thoughts swirl as I face the future, grieve the past, and wonder the hell I’m going to do right now. Thanks to those who sent well wishes. I appreciate it. I warn you though, this blog won’t be a very fun place to be for some time.

I’m Charlie fucking Brown and I can’t seem to stop trying to kick that football. Can someone please shoot Lucy?


In Conclusion, Miscarriage #2

July 26, 2009

The spotting got darker so Jack urged me to go the ER. At the ER the bleeding got a little more, and then as I went to change my pad, it came out of me. They kept saying it looks like blood clots, not a fetus or placenta. But I knew. They checked the uterus: empty. My cervix strangely appears closed though it must have opened enough to let out my baby. Four hours and three pinpricks later, I’m home. I’m surprised at how I feel: calm, peaceful almost. I think the pain and torture of this week has drained me of all emotion. Yes you’re pregnant. No you’re not. Yes! No. Yes! And now today, the final affirmative no. I don’t know what the future holds. At the moment I can’t imagine that I’ll ever get to call myself a mother. I can’t imagine getting pregnant again and I can’t imagine waiting for the inevitable miscarriage. The steps I have set out for myself now are 1) have a final chat with my OB-GYN 2) Try to get genetic testing on the fetus 3) See an RE. As much as I like my OB, she is in the business of more than just infertility and pregnancy loss. I need someone who lives and breathes this. It’s worth every cent if this won’t happen again.

The nurses and the techs were very nice. They all said wait 3-6 months before trying again. One told me she had two miscarriages before her four babies. One told me she had . . . wait for it . . . fifteen miscarriages before her three year old daughter. She said she never gave up hope. I ponder the word hope right now. Right now I feel neither hope, nor despair. I’m a constant thinker, I guess its the writer in me, but right now, I can think of nothing. Just the sound of the water running. My fingers tapping on the keyboard. The air conditioner rumbling in the distance. The pain in my uterus as I cramp and bleed between my legs.


And then there was blood

July 25, 2009

I’m spotting. It’s not a flow but its there. Pinkish Reddish. The doctor says we saw a heartbeat I’m reassured, stay off your feet and rest up. I’ve heard this before, oh yeah, in April. Please keep me in your prayers. I feel like I’m in the rings of hell from Dante’s inferno.

Edited to add: It’s still no blood on the pad and its been 14 hours since I first noticed blood. [only when I wipe] My first miscarriage from the first blood sighting to the loss it took about 16 hours. I’m really tempted to go to the ER to get an ultrasound. I shoudn’t right? I should just be patient, right? Sigh.


Notes from the roller coaster, doctor updates

July 23, 2009

Stalking works, it seems. My doctor called me back after an e-mail message and two voice messages. She said she is very confused by the falling HCG but the developing on schedule fetus. However, she said this is good.  I am pregnant and the HCG dropping means diddly squat in light of my heart beating fetus. She does not think I need to retest HCG anymore and we should just monitor the fetus on ultrasound. So to summarize: I am not miscarrying. Yet. I hate saying the word yet but I’ve been down this road before and I know that though they tell me a heartbeat reduces my risk of a miscarriage to 2%, I’ve been the 2%er before. I will remain with bated breath until that child is in my arms.

I called my maternal fetal specialist to get my labwork transferred to my OB’s office since my insurance won’t pay for work done at the specialists. The specialist wants to re-test me for Lupus Anticoagulant and a host of other clotting related issues. If present I’ll be put on heparin/lovenox. Here’s my issue, the tests take about two weeks to come back and that will put me at 8 weeks which is around the time the baby died last time (though I miscarried week 11). I asked them if they could just start me on lovenox and then take me off if the tests were fine, but they said they can’t do that.

They drew my HCG yesterday and so here is how its reading so far: June 16: 3,500; June 20: 3,000; June 22: 3,014

The specialist said the results are meaningless and from now on lets just go by what the ultrasound shows us and not worry about the HCG levels.  He scheduled one for a week from now. I might be harsh here, but easy to say when its not your baby.  I thought HCG levels rise to maintain your pregnancy so if mine aren’t, how am I supposed to shrug and laugh that off? I don’t understand it. How is this meaningless? What if they fall?

Jack has been so strong for me through this whole ordeal. Yesterday though, as we sat over dinner just staring at each other in befuddlement, I said to him our little one reminds me of you. He laughed, oh yeah? how so? I said, she’s a fighter. She doesn’t care about those HCG levels she’s too focused on growing. She’s stubborn like her dad. He winced and went slightly pale. What’s wrong? I asked him. He shook his head When you say things like that it makes it so much harder for me. To know that the baby is fighting to stick around . . . if this doesn’t work out I’ll be crushed. It was surprising to see how emotional he got. Sometimes I forget he is dealing with a lot too.

After my crushing heartbreak on Tuesday, I never imagined I would tell anyone that it seems I am not miscarrying after all, but that seems to be the case. There is still a long road ahead. I have six more excruicating weeks of a first trimester to get through and as any of you IF sisters know, we can’t breathe easy until we’re holding our baby in our arms. I just have to say I never thought my sunflower miracle would really be this miraculous. If this pregnancy succeeds her nursery is going to look like a field of sunflowers. Even if its a boy! Wow, just writing that makes me tense up. To imagine a future nine months from now frightens me. I’m so scared to dream because I’m so scared to fall.

Finally, thank you again so so so so so much for your support and your prayers and your thoughts. Like I’ve said before, no one really knows in my real life and had I not your support and your encouragement and advice I would feel all alone. Thank you for reading and for commenting and for sharing my burden with me. I cannot thank you guys enough, you will never know how your comments kept me afloat as I feared sinking to the bottom of the ocean floor.


Back to square . . . WHAT? Visiting the maternal fetal specialist

July 22, 2009

I didn’t want to go to the maternal fetal specialist today to discuss my lupus anticoagulant disorder. It felt too painful to go discuss “the next pregnancy” when it should have been a “this pregnancy” conversation. Still, Jack urged me to go, my Dr. urged me to go. So I went. I got there and they said we’ll be doing an ultrasound. I shook my head. My HCG is going down I’ve been told I’ve miscarried, this is just a for future reference meeting. They insisted they had to do an ultrasound since its standard procedure. Cursing them under my breath I went into the ultrasound room. They tried to do it abdominally. I looked at the tech like she’s crazy but she said Well your LMP was May 13. I nodded but I have PCOS so that doesn’t tell you anything. She asked me How far along were you supposed to be? I sighed, About six weeks. So she does the vaginal ultrasound. We see the womb. We see the little sac. We see what is an embryo. I feel emotional as I look at what could have been and again curse them for making my loss more real. Then, she says, Yep you’re right, its measuring at 6 weeks 1 day and the heart beat is 104 bmp which is normal at this stage.

Um. WHAT. THE. FUCK?!?! I kept asking her if it was a mistake, how could this be. I was told I’m miscarrying. I was told not to do an ultrasound yesterday because there’d be nothing to see and you’re telling me that there is a baby in there with a HEARTBEAT and is growing ON SCHEDULE?

The doctor was wonderfully evasive. I got no straight answer. He said its the fetus is in the right place. The fluid is wonderful. The ovaries are marvelous. Had he not known about the HCG he’d tell me I had a less than 1% chance to miscarry. Except well, there is that HCG test that told me instead of doubling my levels were FALLING!!! He took my blood work for another HCG. He said if the numbers keep falling I will have a miscarriage but the fact is that so far the baby is growing according to schedule. I guess no one told it the numbers were falling. He said it happens sometimes. I told him I HAVE NO SYMPTOMS. I don’t wake up to pee in the middle of the night. I feel lovely! He said while it can be a factor, he pointed to my ultrasound and said, that’s the most conclusive data.

My head is throbbing and I’m shaking. I don’t know what to do or how to feel. I called my doctor’s office but they scheduled me for two weeks from now? You’re fucking kidding me right? I just sent her an e-mail and we’ll see what she says. The specialist said I am cautiously hopeful for you. I wish I knew what *I* should feel right now. I crashed so low last night. I fell into the deepest caverns of despair and now you’re telling me maybe? This is the appropriate word for emotional roller coaster.

Now I’m supposed to wait for HCG results tomorrow. I’m so exhausted, so drained, so confused, so befuddled, so perplexed I don’t know whether to cry, or laugh, or smile or just pass out from the sheer emotional weight that all of this has.

Has ANYONE heard of this happening?

*Updated to add*: Why did my OB-GYN’s office tell me don’t worry about taking more HCG tests? Wouldn’t you think they’d be frantically trying to retest? I’m so confused.


A plea for advice on how to miscarry

July 22, 2009

My last miscarriage came out of the blue and in 12 hours it was over. This one is different since I’ve been informed I have miscarried but am not bleeding. I got two hours of sleep so woke up to call in sick and hoped to fall back asleep but now I have this weird pressure on my abdomen area. Not strong. Not contractions. Just pressure. Kind of like when I’m on the second day of a period. Has anyone reading sat around (or know someone who did) waiting to miscarry? Is there a process I can expect? How long should I wait? Is this cramping indicating the process has begun? Any advice or personal anecdote would help me. Surprisingly Dr. Google is turning up nothing.


It’s a miscarraige

July 21, 2009

Nothing more to say.


It’s Tuesday. Still Waiting.

July 21, 2009

I can’t think. I can’t write. I can’t work. I’m sitting here just staring at this phone willing it to ring. Will I have an u/s today or will I not? What is the fate of my future? Will I hold a child in March? Or will we be waiting for blood and the long road of TTC again. My body feels wound, tightly like those wind up dolls of my youth. One more turn of the dial and I break. Jack is amazed at how well I’m handling this. He doesn’t know I’m not handling it well at all but this time I’m keeping it to myself. No sense in dumping on someone who is equally nervous though not as vocal or obviously nutty. Ring phone, ring, and tell me only sweet things.

Updated to add: The nurse just told me the report is on the doctor’s desk but she’s in surgery until at least 1pm. I can’t get the results until at least then.


Considering Time

July 21, 2009

The clock


Like a

taunting warden

at a gate of


Like a

careful scientist


the depths of



is my straight jacket.


is my captor


Time protects me from:


Will I tumble into

a deep cavern

whose slippery handles

and scraping brick edges

my blistered knees know

quite well


Will the birds sing in harmony?

Will the sailor kiss the nurse firmly on the mouth

amongst a ticker tape parade?

Will the bricks release from my helium balloon

As I float into the sky?


Let the descent to crazy land begin

July 20, 2009

I came home and saw a missed call from my OB-GYN office but no message. No missed call on my cell. Why didn’t they call my cell? I’m now petrified. What did they want? The call is 40 minutes after my blood draw. Did something go wrong? I just sent an e-mail to my doctor letting her know I saw a missed call with my CELL number to reach me.

I turned on the television to catch the last ten minutes of the King of Queens. It’s the episode where Kerri gets pregnant and finds out she had a miscarriage. I call Jack my heart pounding, its not a sign right? He assured me it isn’t, but I’m shaken.

The dinner ingredients await me on the kitchen counter. All I see in my mind’s eye is a vision. Me in a striped hospital gown, in bed, propped up. Jack’s arms around me. A little baby in the blue striped blanket in my arms. You see, bad results, they take away my future. They are taking away dreams I cannot control.  My dreams, they self create. That mutate into techni-colored 3D motion pictures of hopes and dreams and love unimaginable. When you tell me its over. That my baby is gone. You’re pulling the plug on my moment, but you’ve sledge hammered through my future.

I’m finishing a book, Benny and Shrimp. This part struck me:

I have to get through the minutes

one at a time,

swallow them like bitter pills,

try not to dwell on

the vast number left

I’m so scared. Please don’t be gone little one. I promise, we’ll have so much fun, you and I.


The blood draw and the wait

July 20, 2009

I went this morning to have my blood drawn for my HCG levels. The lab tech gave me the usual gauze and tape over the withdrawal site, but when I got to work the guaze was soaked with blood! I guess the baby aspirin is thinning my blood. My boobs are aching today, and for a little bit I felt nauseous. Can these be side effects of the aspirin?

I’m at work. Jack thought I should call in sick since he’s worried, but being at work helps you feel like you’re doing something. I accomplished quite a bit which helped eat up 3 hours. I’m trying to figure out how to make it through the rest of the hours left. I mean, I have no choice in the matter. My cousin e-mailed that she’s calling tonight. Calls with her last an hour minimum so there’s an hour there. I have grocery shopping to do. Gotta cook dinner and clean up after. I might put my ipod on and go for a walk in my neighborhood. Harry Potter book 7 is sitting by my nightstand asking to be read again.

I hate that I’m wishing away the next 24+ hours. Life is precious and we’re not guarunteed a second of it, why waste it waiting for the next moment? Still, I’m allowing myself this time to be a little crazy. Today on the way to work I stopped at a stopsign and three little birds, all yellow breasted, so yellow you’d think God highlighted them, with dark black tails flew infront of my car, circled in harmony and then flew away. I’d never seen such birds before, my breath caught as I watched them fly away, continually in harmony, continually in motion. Inexplicably, I hoped it was a sign.

Waiting. It seems us IF sisters do a lot of that. You’d think we’d be experts at waiting. Somehow it does not get easier.



July 20, 2009

I have not been crying, or ranting, or talking a lot about my worries to Jack like I normally would in a situation like this. Instead, I’ve been quiet. I’ve been reading, staying upstairs in our bedroom watching mind numbing Bridezilla reruns and staring at my nails. I think my silence is freaking him out.

Urging me downstairs I came down and we watched a recorded episode of 30 Rock where cupcakes were advertised. Suddenly, I wanted a cupcake. More than anything in the world I wanted a delicious Publix cupcake of my childhood with the colorful icing and sprinkles. Lets go get it, Jack said. I shook my head. I don’t need a cupcake, I’ll survive, but the urge (trying not to call it a craving) was amazing, my taste buds seemed to screech for it. Then sitting down to my computer I saw a news story of the largest cupcake in the world created today. That’s it, Jack said getting his keys and slipping on his flip flops. I’ll drive, you get them. I protested the store closes in ten minutes! He remained unpersuaded.

Let the record reflect that cupcakes can turn a frown upside down, even if its for the duration that one is consuming the nostalgic delicacy. As difficult as what I’m going through is, I am grateful for late night cupcake runs.

11 hours until the blood draw.

48 hours from now, I’ll know.


Waiting for Tuesday

July 18, 2009

As my previous posts indicated my blood work came back with decent HCG levels (3500) and a border-line/low progesterone level 9.5. Normal is 15.  Monday I get blood work to see if my HCGs are rising and Tuesday I get those results. If the results are good then I get an ultrasound. I’m trying very hard in the meantime to not go mad counting down. We had brunch today, and watched dumb movies. A friend just called to invite us to his place for a bbq tonight. So life is good, moving moving.

We got a call from Jack’s parents. They want to visit next weekend. I’m super tensed up about this. If I have a bad result I will not be able to deal with that and them at the same time. I told Jack if the results are bad he’s going to have to get them to not come. I don’t know how we’ll manage that, but his parents are tough enough to handle in a good frame of mind, much less a muddied one.

I got two bills in the mail. One from my insurance company, one from the hospital where I miscarried. The insurance company appeared to cover all my costs. The hospital says they denied $700 and I need to pay it ASAP. Ofcourse they are closed until Monday. I don’t know how I’m supposed to come up with the energy to deal with them this coming week along with all the other stuff. I’m so exhausted from insurance companies.

I’m trying to remind myself that this is a miracle pregnancy. I ovulated off cycle somewhere around CD33 or 40 and against the odds conceived.  Technically based on cycles, this was unusual. So, maybe even though my progesterone is borderline low, I can make it through with a healthy successful pregnancy. It can happen. Its possible. Yes its also possible for the reverse to be true, but why sit in a puddle of fear when hope is so much sweeter.

I’m surprised I’m not a crying rambling wreck. I do cry. Especially when I pray. But I’m not as bad as I thought I would be. I know come Tuesday I will be a full and complete mess, but until then the fact that I’m going about life, well, that is nothing short of miraculous.


How to Pass Time

July 17, 2009

Tuesday is my ultimatum day. The day I find out if my HCG levels are rising. If rising, its the day of my ultrasound to see if there’s a heartbeat and date the pregnancy. As I stated in my previous post, my progesterone levels are low. They are 9.5 when it should be 15+. The doctor said progesterone supplements won’t save a pregnancy dying anyways. Low progesterone levels can indicate a failing pregnancy. Not always, but often. She said don’t ruin your weekend panicking. We might find out Tuesday that all is well and you worried for nothing. That’s easier said than done, when I heard these same words about three months ago on a similar phone call with a similar fear.

I’m in shock. I’m angry. I’m sad. I can’t wrap my mind around this. Jack says its good to be prepared at least. We weren’t prepared last time. This time we have advance warning. I don’t know what’s better. I know that not having to worry about a miscarriage would be the best alternative.

I have no earthly idea how to pass the time. Tomorrow when Jack goes to play basketball I’m going to go a bookstore and work on my manuscript and read books on formatting and how to submit. Other than that I’m stumped. I need to pass these next  88 hours without losing my sanity.

Praying for a sunflower miracle in my life. Why does this have to be so damn hard


Beta and Progesterone Results Are In

July 17, 2009

I got a call from a doctor in the practice and my beta and progesterone levels are in.

HCG: 3500

Progesterone: 9.5

Shit. HCG is inconclusive since she said Monday they’ll do another test to see if they’re rising. But the Progesterone is scary because its borderline low. Healthy prog. levels are 15 and above. I’m 9.5. I told her I’m taking progesterone suppostitories she said they are not known to have any effect at all, but I’m wondering are my levels 9.5, this borderline level and not EVEN LOWER because I am taking the progesterone supplements? She said low progesterone levels can indicate that a pregnancy is not going well, its hard to know.

Progesterone is the cause of most symptoms. This is perhaps why I am symptom free.

She told me not to panic and that things might be okay.

But to put it bluntly she essentially was trying to say: Prepare for another possible miscarriage, odds aint pretty.

Great weekend to come.


Doctor Visit Update

July 16, 2009

Thanks to all of you who left me well wishes and urged me to climb down from the ledge I somehow perched myself upon. It’s true the diagnosis of PCOS, lupus anticoagulent disorder, low progesterone are good things so that this won’t happen again. I do get that, thanks for the reminder. The doctor visit went as expected though I had a mini-scare at the start of it. When pregnant when you walk into the exam room, they usually have a congrats brochure with information for new mothers. This time it wasn’t there. The nurse came in five minutes later and apologized that she forgot to put the brochure there. So yes, the test at the doctor’s office also confirmed my BFP. I’m being referred to a maternal fetal specialist to discuss whether I’ll get on lovenox or not. That should be early next week. Based on my uterus I’m only 4-5 weeks pregnant. I guess that makes sense since I had implantation bleeding about 3.5 weeks ago. She offered to do a beta test so I’ll find out tomorrow what my numbers are, and I’ll go in again on Monday for a follow-up beta. Tuesday is my first ultrasound to date this pregnancy. I really hope they find a heart beat.

It’s hard to get seen by my doctor but she rocks. Whenever I meet her I feel lucky she’s taking care of me because I trust her. I feel slightly better after the doctor’s visit. She told me I’d feel weird up until I passed the ten week mark when I lost the first pregnancy. I guess that’s natural. Regardless of how many nicknames I come up with, in the recesses of my mind the fear is going to lurk. My goal is to keep it in the recesses of my mind and not to allow it to  jump up and take center stage doing the river dance.

But just for the record, I’m pretty sure it’s a girl. 🙂


Not Doing Great

July 16, 2009

Knowing that the auto-immune disorder is the reason I miscarried has thrown me off orbit. I am haunted with the knowledge that my baby was fine. My baby was breathing and growing and deveoping on schedule and then thanks to clotting issues my baby died. The grief overwhelms me. I can’t change anything that happened. What was is no longer here. I can’t cry and bring back my Speck, but it just hurts to know what a beautiful missed opportunity of life no longer is.  I realize I am currently pregnant but I cannot shake the fear that I will lose this one too. I don’t know why but this fear has gripped me and is threatening to do me in. I don’t want two miscarriages in a year. I don’t want to be told this one is not developing thanks to my body acting stupid.

I’ve made peace with my miscarriage. I thought. I gained a lot of understanding on who I was, what I was made of. I found my faith again after years of darkness, but. . . that doesn’t make the pain hurt less. Yes if I miscarry again I will get over it and I will learn to stand again but I’m not looking forward to the fall. I’m frightened to death of the fall.  I can’t fall. Please God, please God, don’t let me fall.

16 hours until my appointment, and counting. . .


Meant to be . . .

July 15, 2009

Jack said something and immediately apologized explaining he didn’t mean it as it came out, but its stuck with me. We were talking on the phone and I said, So it hard for me to GET pregnant with PCOS and then when I do get pregnant by miracle of miracles my body has also seen fit to make it hard for me to keep my pregnancy thanks to this auto-immune disorder. Jack responded with Sometimes it feels like we are not supposed to be parents. If there are so many obstacles in our path maybe its just not meant to be. I didn’t get mad because he’s entitled to feel as he does and I said nothing. He called a few hours later and said he didn’t mean it that way. The fact that we want it and are doing everything we can means that we will appreciate it more once a healthy baby is in our arms. I believe him, I think he was frustrated for a moment, and we’re all entitled to a dark thought.

I don’t know. I mean as far as I know I’m still pregnant. Hopefully I will stay pregnant.  I guess if I had nausea or something else this would feel more real but I have no symptoms or signs so it keeps me distanced to some degree from this pregnancy. I have hope that I’ll stick it through pregnancy and have a healthy happy baby at the end of this but it’s just hard to hang on to that right now as I look at the odds stacked against me.

I was so good about not being impatient for tomorrow’ appointment and now that its less than 24 hours away, with this new diagnosis and the now increased risks of miscararriage, 2:30pm tomorrow may as well be two years away.


The world feels like its tumbling: Why I miscarried

July 15, 2009

Like anyone else who miscarries I wanted to know why. After my miscarriage I asked the doctor to take some blood work to see if there’s any disorder predisposing me to miscarriage. I just got a call from my OB that one of my blood tests came back positive for lupus anticoagulent. Lupus. I know that this doesn’t mean I have lupus but I have this particular variation and this means that I have higher incidence of blood clotting. Women with lupus anticoaglant have higher risk of miscarriage. It is one of the common reasons for miscarriages to happen. The message from my doctor said to take a baby aspirin starting now and she’ll explain more at our appointment tomorrow.

First of all, she could not wait until tomorrow. She called to tell me to start ASAP.  This is urgent then. What if I’ve already lost my baby? What if it’s too late? I didn’t wake up last night to pee. I HAVE NO symptoms of pregnancy.

This means Speck was fine. He was healthy and okay and had no chromosomal abnormalities. **I** lost him. I mean, I know I didn’t do it on purpose but had he found life in someone else’s womb he would’ve been born and healthy and happy.  The blood clots seep into the placenta cutting off oxygen to the fetus. I read stories of other women like me with it, who had a heart beating little baby growing that died so close to the second trimester. And I might already be losing the new one growing within me. Meggomae once reminded me I’m already a mother. When I feel the pain I do at the thought of my baby suffocating due to lack of oxygen, the thought that he could have lived and died due to us not knowing. . . the pain is so raw that I do in that moment dare anyone to tell me I was not a mother.

I talked to my doctor just now and she told me this should be seen as a good thing since now we know. Lots of doctor don’t order these tests after one miscarriage, they say after two or three they’ll check. I’m grateful this wasn’t even an argument between me and my doctor and I’m grateful she tested me.  I told her I did not wake up to pee last night and I’m afraid I might have already miscarried. She said don’t think like that, and that its probably not too late.

Intellectually the odds are low I have already miscarried, but I had a 2% chance of miscarrying Speck when they found his strong heartbeat. Odds mean jackshit to me. She said she will feel my uterus to determine how far along I am and if I’m far along enough they’ll do an ultrasound. I’m also going to see a specialist to see what to do about my disorder. They might give me heparin, a self injection daily that thins the blood, but she wants a specialist to diagnose that. In the meantime I’m popping baby aspirins.

3 metformin tablets. 1 prenatal. 1 baby aspirin. 1 nightly dose of progesterone. I will hang upside down naked from a tree in my front yard if you can promise me I will have my baby healthy and happy in nine months. Keep the meds coming, just give me my baby.

FUCK. I really wish it wasn’t so fucking hard all the fucking time.


Random this and that

July 14, 2009

Lately I’ve been feeling a wierd fidgety feeling I have not felt before. Today I looked at the side effect label of the progesterone and among the many possible side effects one is increased nervousness. Well then. It’s funny considering this one is stated to help women with progesterone issues to conceive or maintain their pregnancy. A side effect such as increased nervouness should get a double take by the FDA considering the women who will be taking it are already preinclined to nervous tendencies.

I told my mom and she is through the roof happy. She then told me stories of about three friends who are very concerned about the state of my childlessness. One of my friends does a special prayer just for you each evening. I really feel disconcerted by the fact that my business is her friend’s business. I don’t even really talk about it with my friends but it seems based on the volume of stories she shares, everyone including the neighborhood cat knows about me. If I ask her she denies until the sun comes up but I know my mom, she can accidentally let slip many a thing without realizing. Or choosing not to realize. Her innocent stories like Maya’s mom told me she miscarried at three months also! When I ask her if she told Maya’s mom about me, my mom denies it, but I find it hard to believe this conversation randomly came up recently. It makes me feel weird next time I see Maya to know she knows so much of my life that I work so hard to maintain privacy around. Another example, at a dinner party, a friend of my mom’s said to me, your mom wants to be a grandma! To which my mom shook her head and sighed deeply Well, one can only hope and pray. The lady turned red and apologized. To date, my mom doesn’t see that as saying anything! It frustrates me because I know that she is telling me about her friends because she thinks it helps but it doesn’t help to know that she’s formed her own support group for not having a grandkid. I don’t know how deal with it because she’s my mom and I love her and I know it’s an argument waiting to happen.

In other news the progesterone or my own thoughts are making me a little nervous. I’m not nauseous at all. My boobs which were sore and painful are normal again. I do still wake to pee at night, but other than that there are simply no symptoms. Last time I got the “tsk tsk” from friends who accused me of not being grateful for the lack of symptoms when many have such severe symptoms. No one can understand save you who have been in my shoes how badly I want these symptoms because it means something is there. The Mayo Clinic says if you have no preggo symptoms its a sign of potentially impending miscarriage. Was correct last time, ofcourse I’m nervous it may happen this time.

I’m not fidgeting around with tears or anything like that. I’ve tried and partly succeeded with making peace with the fact that I *may* have a miscarriage again. I don’t WANT one. I will be sad if it happens, but I am hoping for the best while sort of preparing for the worst. I wish I could behave differently but its how I’m wired.

Thursday has never felt further away.


The Brown Spot

July 13, 2009

I went to the bathroom and there is a brown spot on my underwear. I wiped and there was no blood. Just that brown spot. My doctor’s appointment is on Thursday. Hopefully its just one of those things. I’m not panicking or anything right now but two thoughts come to mind (1) It’s going to be a long nine months and (2) I really hope I make it to nine months.


Sunflower Hope

July 10, 2009

I recently went on vacation and we passed by rows and rows of sunflowers bright with their faces towards the sun. I love sunflowers and seeing the endless stretches of yellow fields made me smile. Then we came across a sunflower field that made me catch my breath.  I made Jack pull over to the side of the road so I could take a picture. It was a field of sunflowers scorched by the sun, heads downwards, leaves gone, their little bodies turning brown instead of the brilliant yellow I love. Except for one sunflower. One sunflower in a sea of thousands still alive and bright, its head up and facing the world despite the odds. When I saw this sunflower I I wrote in my journal: Wherever you look there are signs of  small miracles. This sunflower lives despite the odds against it with the scorching sun and its dead brethren. This sunflower is hope. I too can defeat the odds one day.  I don’t need to believe in a field of sunflowers, I just need one. Looking back at my journal entry and this picture gives me chills now. I wanted to share this with my IF sisters in the hope that perhaps it will inspire you too. As a beautiful commenter said in my last post: Hope must be stronger than fear.


It’s blurry but there. Wow.

July 9, 2009



Those Two Pink Lines. Sinking In.

July 9, 2009

So I saw those two pink lines and I laughed and smiled and felt the emotions one feels, but I think it really hit me about an hour ago when I woke up at 2:30am to pee.  I came back to bed and Jack whispered, did you pee? I whispered yes and he leaned over and kissed me. Since then I’ve tossed and turned unable to sleep as it fully hit me, this might be really happening. I have two lines.

How is it biologically possible, I keep wondering. I had EWCM on June 16,  CD35. We had sex 2-3 days before that, and maybe a week after that. At no point in the CD30 onwards did I actually think doing the deed would lead to a child because I didn’t think it could happen so late in my cycle. Hell, I’m on CD 60 right now! I skipped a cycle and got pregnant? Can that happen? Huh?

I’m not sure why I can’t sleep. I think I’m excited. Happy. Nervous. And okay, I admit it: SCARED. I have NO clue how far along I am since I dont know when I conceived but why don’t I have any major signs? Give me nausea and every other symptom in the book if it means this pregnancy will be viable.  Today I cramped and turned pale wondering if blood was coming. Praying and meditating has helped center me better and I hope they will tide me over these next three months because as any of you who have tried for so long and miscarried know, your innocence is gone once you’ve had a miscarriage. You know the other foot can drop and the key then is to figure out how to spend your time without the constant fear and worry of when it will. So far I was doing okay but for the inability to sleep at the moment. I’m resisting any urge to research or read pregnancy books. I’m trying to repeat a mantra, that what is meant to be will and I have no control and therefore worrying won’t help anything. But- Please Please Please God, give me a happy healthy child at the end of this.