Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

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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!**

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Sprogblogger

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

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Climbing

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.

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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?