Posts Tagged miscarriage

Part 1 of 3 – Business & Babies

December 8, 2009 at 12:12 pm · Filed under Uncategorized ·Tagged , , , , ,

**I found that I couldn’t combine all topics into one post. Thus the numbering system. Stay tuned.

Bobby is officially no longer a partner of his company. The contract has been signed, the buy-out check as been cashed, and the handshakes have been shook. The word “relief” doesn’t even begin to describe it. I am plumb damn giddy.

The change in him as been amazing, truly. He’s sleeping better. He’s not constantly obsessing about the same situations over and over. And over. He’s buzzing around like a little happy worker bee, cleaning house & doing laundry & cooking dinner, all with an earbud in his ear, trying to work a deal. It’s actually a bit comical — the domestic business Bobby.

The buy-out money pushed our “in the red” date back to March 15th. And because of this, I’M sleeping better. We’re still keeping the whiteboard out, though… the one with a big, red OH-SHIT date circled. Our health insurance is still lapsing as of next week, which is pretty scary to me. The “what if” monsters have lots to say about that — what if we have a wreck? what if we somehow end up in the emergency room with 1000’s of dollars in medical bills? what if I get pregnant & can’t afford the high-risk regimen & lose another baby because we’re uninsured?

And then I tell myself that yeah, all of that would really suck. So let’s worry about it if/when it happens.

Oh, and in case anyone’s keeping up with these things, the November cycle didn’t work. I’m very unpregnant. Still. And you know what? I don’t even care that much. We’ll try again in December. If it doesn’t work in December, though, I’ll probably care. My 32nd birthday is coming & my eggs are rotting.

Good god, I can’t believe I’m almost 32 and still haven’t managed to successfully birth a child. I’m know I’m not alone in bloggy-world, but in my real, everyday life, I feel like the Lone Effing Ranger.

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quote of the day

November 28, 2009 at 10:35 am · Filed under Uncategorized ·Tagged ,

Setting: Thanksgiving day, late in the evening.

Me: So Daddy, Bobby & I haven’t seen you much lately.
My father: I’ve been busy.
Me: But you find the time to go to Jennifer’s? [who lives 0.5 miles from me]
My father: She has babies.

After taking a moment to collect myself, I told him that if he had really put some thought into coming up with the absolute WORST thing to say to me, that would be it.

Dear God,
I was wondering if it would be possible for me to exchange one father (specifically Marty) for one mother (specifically Denise). I know that this is probably a policy violation, but was hoping that You could manage to make an exception just this once. I feel that Marty could really liven up the streets of gold with his dry wit and expertly timed verbal daggers, while Denise’s cheerful laugh and expert mothering/grandmothering skills would greatly improve things down here. I feel that if You would be willing to make this trade, You and I both would be quite pleased with the results.
Just think about it and let me know.
Thanks,
Sarah

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on the baby front

October 26, 2009 at 1:10 pm · Filed under Uncategorized ·Tagged , , ,

As of last week, Bobby and I were officially cleared by RE#3 to try again. He wrote a prescription for progesterone suppositories starting 3 days post-ovulation, and instructed me to call the minute I get a positive pregnancy test so that the obsessive ultrasounds can begin.

He said that he’ll be as aggressive as we want him to be — if we want to start various fertility drugs, he’s game. We told him that we wanted to try sans drugs for at least one month, then if it doesn’t work, come back for Phase 2.

Honestly, I just didn’t feel like trying this month. The super-great ovulation monitor worked beautifully this month, giving me a little have-sex-NOW! egg on Day 17. But I didn’t. See, I have this fear. I’m afraid that I’ll get pregnant again, and miscarry again, and these unfortunate events will coincide with my new niece’s arrival. I need all my mental facilities available for the next few weeks (months?)… and in my considerable experience, BabyLosses have a way of making me really emotional and really mentally not ok psychotic.

Crazy, post-BabyLoss Sarah + sister giving birth = big effing disaster.

I suspect that I’m making up excuses on some level, because I’m just afraid. I feel, in a deep-down place that I try not to acknowledge, that I may never have a baby. I’m watching Jennifer during these last few weeks of a healthy pregnancy, and I can’t help thinking that perhaps I need to accept that it’ll never be me. And I need to figure out how to be ok with that.

Jennifer and I have been better in the last couple of weeks than we have in months. When she opened matching jewelry boxes for Sadie & Maggie, she cried… the twirling ballerina & strains of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” evoked memories of Mama’s jewelry box that we played with as little girls. And her heartfelt emotion & immediate understanding of why I chose that particular gift healed much of the hurt that has been just under the surface for both of us. I threw myself into every detail of the brunch… I wanted to show her that I love her, that I love her new little one, that I’m still Sarah down underneath the sadness of being a Lost Baby Mama.

So next month, Bobby & I will try again. And maybe it’ll work. And maybe I’ll be pregnant by my 32nd birthday. And maybe our baby make it. And maybe I’ll be a mother by my 33rd birthday. Maybe?

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bobby speaks

September 16, 2009 at 9:40 am · Filed under Uncategorized ·Tagged , ,

Well, hell. I’ve arrived. My first blog-fight… there are other corners of blogland that have regular scuffles (Heir to Blair comes to mind), but this is my first.

Before I write anything else, I want to thank my bloggy cheerleaders… your “rah, rah, rah’s” (past & present) are incredibly appreciated. And thank you for your protective and supportive comments on the previous post — wow, you girls really know how to make someone (that would be me) feel loved! :)

I’ve been thinking a lot since reading (another)sarah’s words — words that I truly believe were carefully chosen and were not intended to be disrespectful or anything other than helpful. (Another) is right — I did put myself out here publicly to solicit support, feedback, & help. Without fail, that’s what I’ve received; sometimes that support has been the tenuous thread holding me in place. I don’t have a ton of readers, and that’s ok. What I DO have is a network of girls who I’ve come to value & count as friends, people whom I hope to meet in real life someday. (Another), thank you for taking the time to subscribe to & read my words, and the time & effort spent composing your thoughts.

I think it’s clear that (another)’s words were not received in the way that she intended. My immediate reaction was hurt, anger, & defensiveness, which I think is the same reactions some of my other readers had. To put it mildly, she hit a sore spot with us touchy infertiles. Those of us who have been unable to have a family & who want one have been met with the “just be happy with what you have” argument more times than we can count. That’s like telling the single person who yearns for a companion to suck it up, be happy, and stay single. Can they have a productive, joyful life? Yes. But will they ever feel completely fulfilled and content? Not while the yearning continues. And telling yourself to stop yearning doesn’t work. Trust me, I’ve tried.

The desire for a child is difficult, if not impossible, to explain. There’s a longing to “mother” something beyond yourself, to give of yourself, to let it be someone else’s turn. Bobby and I have never wavered in our desire for children — and yes, it’s me AND Bobby, not just me. We’ve had the “what if” discussion — what if we’re not meant to have kids? What if we’re not good parents? What if we’re never able to have a family? For me personally, the thought of not having children is in the same category as not believing in life after death. There’s no hard evidence that it’s the right or correct thing, but the alternative is just too hopeless. I have to believe that my mother’s spirit still exists. I have to believe that Bobby and I have a child in our future. There has to be life beyond what I can see.

So, that said, I respectfully reject the idea that my body’s inability to carry a baby is a sign that I’m “not ready” or “not meant” to have children, just as I would reject the idea that a diabetic’s inability to produce insulin is a sign that he/she isn’t meant to live healthily.

In this written forum, I am wrapped up in me-me-me. After all, isn’t a blog itself inherently selfish and narcissistic? You write with the assumption that someone’s going to care, even if it’s only one or two IRL friends who humor you & become pity-readers. But Bobby does have a say, does have an opinion, does have an input. And I could keep positing that, but instead I’m going to let him speak for himself.

Excerpt from Bobby’s blog:

I am not sure how to begin other than it is a rainy day outside and it feels rainy inside.

Today, August 12, 2009 Sarah and I experienced our third miscarriage. WOW…is it even fair to say “we” experienced another miscarriage? She is experiencing the physical pain accompanied by the emotional loss. I am sitting on the sidelines, hoping to help my hurting wife.

I am not the one who woke up this morning to experience the physical loss of an unborn child. I am not the one who feels the inability to carry a pregnancy to term. I am not a mother or a woman. I cannot comprehend the depth of emptiness knowing that the little person growing inside of you just could not hold on little while longer, instead of going to live with their other two siblings. How do we cope as males with the loss of a child that we have not seen, felt, touched, experienced. The only knowledge we have of a pregnancy is that little test that says “Positive” or the first time we see a little blob on a screen that turns into a little beating heart.

How do we stay strong? How do we see the light at the end of the tunnel. We promise that we could be great parents. And yes, we would like to know what it is like to wake up in the middle of the night to a crying child, or clean-up the puke on the brand new carpet, or the muddy hands on the wall, or…. just to know what it is like to feel life shine through the eyes of a miracle.

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hsg & lab results

September 15, 2009 at 11:39 am · Filed under Uncategorized ·Tagged ,

Had my HSG this morning. Either I’m a big ol’ wimp, or lots of people on message boards are liars, because that shit hurt.  The upside? Once you strip and get settled on the table, it literally only takes 4 minutes from entrance to exit. The downside? During that 4 minutes, I broke out in a cold sweat, got dizzy, and clenched my teeth to keep from crying out like a whiny little girl.

Aside from leaking iodine & dye, I’m fine now. Took 800 mg’s of ibuprofen this morning, which helped, I guess. Doc said that all looked normal… woohoo for a clear uterus & tubes. I also got some of my lab results from earlier this week. Am going to list them here for my own records — feel free to skim if medical stuff bores you. The red ones are (yep, you guessed it) abnormal. 

Follicle Stimulating Hormone (FSH) – 9.53
Luteinizing Hormone (LH) – 9.04
Resistance to Thyroid Hormone (RTH) – 1.76
Prolactin (PRL) – 6.61
Estradiol (E2) – 40.5

Miscarriage Panel:
Factor V Mutation – negative
Prothrombin II Gene Mutation – negative
MTHFR Mutation – Heterozygous for MTHFR C677T
Cardiolipin IgG Antibody – <7
Cardiolipin IgM Antibody – <7
Cardiolipin IgA Antibody – 42
Lupus Anticoagulant  PTTLA – 45.6
Lupus Anticoagulant dRVVT – 31.1
Red Blood Count (RBC) – 5.32
Testosterone – 26.88
Rubella Antibodies – 7.0 (equivocal)
DHEA Sulfate – 71

Doc says the rubella, RBC, and dRVVT counts are ok even though they’re out of range. As for the other two:

  • Heterozygous for MTHFR C677T – treatment is 2mg’s of folic acid in addition to the prenatal vitamin, and possibly lovenox &/or heparin injections in the future. Am scheduled for a fasting homocysteine test on Friday.
  • Cardiolipin IgA Antibody – treatment is daily low-dose aspirin.

Is it weird that I’m kind of excited that the labwork found something definitive? But I’m being careful to not attach too much significance to this… after all, I was already taking 2mg’s of folic acid and baby aspirin during the 3rd miscarriage. I guess I want to believe that #3 was a fluke, and the extra supplements will magically fix everything for #4.

Would like to state once again that I really, REALLY like this RE. His staff is excellent, his offices are lovely, and he’s efficient & thorough. Oh, and when I was scheduling Friday’s appt, my acupuncturist came by… she said that she was there “for a transfer.” IVF, I assume? Do they actually do acupuncture as a part of the IVF procedure? Very interesting — and although I already liked and trusted her, her involvement lent even more credibility to her practice (in my opinion, of course).

So. Are any of ya’ll hetero for MTHFR C677T? Does anyone else have elevated levels of IgA? I’m reading everything I can find, but would definitely appreciate ya’ll sharing any info that you have.

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jumping back in

September 12, 2009 at 8:33 pm · Filed under Uncategorized ·Tagged , ,

I’ve been quiet for a while now. Quiet here, quiet verbally, even quiet mentally. We’ve been chipping away at Project RE, but I honestly haven’t spent much time mulling it over. And this is VERY unusual for me.

Why the quiet? Since BabyLoss #3, I’ve just bowed out of blogland for a while. Too many losses, too many pregnancies, too many people moving and progressing and getting better, while I felt more and more mired down. I want to be someone who moves, who progresses. I’m tired of being the girl who’s stuck. And really, there’s only so much of my whining the blogosphere can take before it revokes my membership card.

And so I logged off, and spent some time playing solitaire. Like, a LOT of solitaire. It became addictive… I couldn’t finish one game without clicking that “Deal Again” just one more time, and then once more. Became obsessed with winning, with beating the stupid little game into submission. Just give me a red 10, and nobody gets hurt.

Oh, and Bobby commented a couple of times about my newfound devotion to solitaire, and realized quickly that it was best to just let me be. Step back, buddy, she bites.

And the longer I stayed away from (semi)daily journaling, the harder it seemed to jump back in. But jump I must, because I miss writing. I miss reading all of my favorites… I’ve spent much of today catching up on everybody’s happenings. And there’s value in chronicling the small, insignificant snippets — if nothing else, this blogging experience has taught me that even if it seems silly to write it down, I’ll be glad I did a year or five later.

So here are two thoughts, neither of which are hugely important, but both of which I will now record:

  1. Joe Wilson. Bobby and I were watching the live address, and were shocked at the very verbal and disruptive heckling during Obama’s speech. Regardless of your political viewpoint, he’s the President of United States, for chrissake. Have some respect. Imagine my dismay and embarrassment when I discovered that the guilty party was a ill-mannered representative of my own state. I mean, look at this picture… with the glassy eyes, red face, and sweat beading his forehead, he looks like a rabid animal. Not sure what kind of southern raisin’ that boy got, but it sho ‘nough didn’t take. art.joe.wilson.heckling.gi
  2. Michelle Duggar. 19 kids. Seriously?!  Woman, it’s a vagina, not a clown car.

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Folks, we have a winner!

September 8, 2009 at 9:07 pm · Filed under Uncategorized ·Tagged , ,

Appt with RE #3 was today, and Bobby and I agree that this is guy we’re sticking with. Things I like: he has a private practice, his office staff is super-nice and helpful, and he has pictures of baby successes EVERYwhere. During the consultation, I mentioned that it was Day 3 of this cycle… didn’t think it would matter since we’re waiting until November, right? Wrong. Within the next 5 minutes, I’ve got a needle in my arm, filling up 11 — yes, ELEVEN — vials of blood.

See, now that’s what I like…. a man of action.

The labwork covered:

  • Prenatal profile
  • Endocrine panel (includes FSH, LH, TSH, estradiol, DHEAS, prolactin, testosterone)
  • Miscarriage panel (includes Factor V Leiden, Prothrombin II, MTHFR mutations, anticardiolipin antibodies, lupus anticoagulant)

I have an appt Friday for an HSG to check for physical blockages, and Bobby has an appt next week for an SDFA (advanced semen analysis that tests for DNA fragmentation). We’ll meet with #3 in two weeks to go over the test results.

#3 mentioned genetic karotyping, but didn’t even blink when I told him that Bobby & I aren’t interested in doing genetics until we ensure that the issue isn’t hormonal &/or physical.

And today was my 4th acupuncture appt. So I really enjoy acupuncture, and feel like I’m benefitting hugely from it. However, it is astronomically expensive… The sessions are individually pricey. The evaluation sessions are extra. But the herbs & supplements?! Wow. Walked out with $180 worth of Chinese herbs today. Holy mother, that’s some expensive shit, and it smells like dirt and I’m supposed to put it in warm water and drink it 3 times/day. Blech.

But despite my Chinese herb sticker-shock, today felt like a gigantic step in the right direction. I feel like we’ve found the guy who’s going to help us figure things out. And you know what? Maybe it’ll be our baby’s picture on his bulletin board next year…  wouldn’t that be lovely?

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Visit with the Doctor-Man

August 31, 2009 at 11:19 pm · Filed under Uncategorized ·Tagged ,

Thank ya’ll so, so much for your comments on my previous post. Last week was disgusting… not gonna lie. But reading your kind & compassionate words was like being in my own little room of virtual hugs. I’ve been a horrific bloggy friend lately… all take-take-take with no comments in return. But please know that ya’ll are so, so incredibly appreciated.  Really, you are wonderful. Thank you.

Today was (finally) the appt with the new RE. He’s actually a D.O. rather than an M.D… I was a little fuzzy on the difference until I came home and read a bit. Apparently a DO is a doctor of osteopathy, & has a more holistic approach than a traditional MD. Random fact of the day.

His bedside (or deskside) manner was much better than RE #1. Not touchy-feely by any means, but very engaged in our case. During our $240 appt with the previous RE, he talked at (not to) us for 45 minutes and sent us on our way. During our appt with this guy, he got a thorough history, did an exam, ordered labs, pulled my records from the obgyn’s office, and helped pin down an approximate plan. Much better use of 40 minutes, I must say.

So ok.

Action Plan:
I’m going in for blood work this week.  He wants to wait a full cycle for my innards to recover completely from BabyLoss #3… I don’t wanna wait (of course), but I see the logic behind this. Then I’m to come in during the October cycle for more testing. He estimates that he’ll have enough data to implement a treatment plan by November. Having a plan, good. Not doing anything until Nov, bad.

He also recommended an infertility program sponsored by the fertility center called Mind/Body that teaches relaxation techniques. As I sat there strumming in my chair like a violin string, he said he felt that I would be a good candidate. No idea why he would think that.

Genetics 101:
Ok, now for the bad stuff. He is really, REALLY into genetic testing. When I mentioned that my mother had died of breast cancer at age 50, you could practically see red flashing lights going off in his little brain. See, there’s this gene known as BRCA that’s been linked to breast cancer. And if you have it, you have a really good chance of being screwed. My sisters and I have been approached several times about having the test done, but we’ve resisted… I had pretty much decided that I absolutely didn’t want to know.

But Doctor-Man is all about the BRCA test. He wanted to know if Mama was tested. Was she a carrier? If she was, there’s a 50% chance that she passed it to me (& Jennifer & Sue). And if I have it, there’s a 50% chance that I’ll pass it on to my children. Oh, and there’s a really good chance I’ll get breast cancer. He used words like “ovarian ultrasounds” and “preventative ovarian removal” and “preventative mastectomy” and “breast reconstruction.” I thought my heart was going to freeze right over into an icy-cold chunk in my (currently breast cancer-free) chest.

So he gave me  homework assignment of finding out whether Mama was tested for BRCA, and if so, was she a carrier. I have no idea where to even start. Do oncologists keep records of past (dead) patients? If I ask Daddy, he’ll say “BR-whaaat?!” He hasn’t a clue. Plus he would get all freaked out and started calling nonstop trying to figure out which one of us is going to get cancer and die, and that would just make this entire process even more distasteful. So no father involvement, for now at least.

Doctor-Man said that if I carry the BRCA gene, or if Bobby & I both carry the cystic fibrosis gene, that he is super-talented at genetic selection through IVF. Oh dear lord, please oh please don’t let that be our only option of reproducing.

Conclusion:
Do I feel better? Yes, I like having a plan, even if I don’t like the plan itself (which happens to consist of a whole lotta waiting).

Do I feel more hopeful? Um, not really… I went in worried about infertility and came out worried about infertility and breast cancer and genetic testing. Ah, the joy of doctors.

But am I glad I went? Hells, yeah. Absolutely, 100% glad that we took the next step.

Thank ya’ll again. So, so much.

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still kicking

August 17, 2009 at 12:27 pm · Filed under Uncategorized ·Tagged , , ,

It’s been a long, damn week. Things still aren’t quite normal physically, and I feel absolutely drained. Like someone pulled the plug, and, oh look, there’s my energy & motivation in a big puddle on the floor. See it?… it’s right there. The cramping only lasted two days, but there’s been a general feeling of unwellness… dizzy, exhausted, headache, and now a peachy little respiratory infection.

It’s not hypochondria if it’s true, right?

We went to Virginia to visit Mama’s family this weekend… the trip was planned pre-miscarriage, and the cramping had stopped by Thursday evening, so off we went. Friday was a quiet, lovely day with just grandparents & cousin-I-like. Sue took some gorgeous pictures that really captured the essence of the entire day. It was easy to remember the many, many summers (every summer, actually) growing up… our week(s)-long trips to our grandparents’ tiny white clapboard house was the highlight of every summer vacation.

I told Grandma about miscarriage #3, and she cried and hugged me tight. And I cried, and it confirmed that the wounds that our relationship suffered during the months surrounding Mama’s death have indeed healed. For that, I am so thankful.

There was a downturn Friday night, when I found myself trapped in a conversation between my sister & grandmother about breast-feeding and sleepless nights and such. My sister’s healthily pregnant, and she needs to talk about these things. I understand this, I do. But I could feel the tears coming, and wanted nothing more than to leave the room and crawl in bed. I knew that if I left abruptly, it would be noticed and discussed, so I sat for a few moments, trying not to listen, then excused myself and slipped out.  [Polite Sarah, 1. Infertile bitch, 0.]

Saturday morning, I was ready to leave before my eyes even opened. I could hear talk of cousin-I-detest coming to visit, and I told Bobby that it would be just super if we could exit before her arrival. No such luck. Here she comes with her brood of redneck children, and, for the first time, I saw the baby who has my name. The poor little thing is as good-natured as she can be, but is as ugly as homemade sin… it’s not nice to say, but it’s god’s honest truth.  She is the spitting image of my cousin’s husband, a look that does not translate well to a female. And cousin-I-detest has let her hair grow into a mullet-esque rat-tail that hangs half-way down her back. Bless her heart. Her mama’s butt needs to be kicked.

I know that some of ya’ll are out there thinking I’m a heartless wench. And for the record, I don’t much care. Judge away, judgy-pants. My blog, my hateful opinion. Pbbbbffftttt. [Polite Sarah, 1. Infertile bitch, 1.]

Ok, now that I’ve had that 5-yr-old moment, what was I saying? Oh yes, the weekend. Came home Saturday. Skipped church yesterday, which I regretted the entire remainder of the day. I used my respiratory disgustingness as an excuse.  I always think bad thoughts about people who are hacking up a lung and sneezing all over the place — I wonder why they didn’t just keep themselves and their germs at home. Didn’t want to be one of those people… and if I’m completely honest, didn’t want to go anywhere that I had to smile and be nice. I know that must be hard to believe since I’m such a bright ray of sunshine.  [And infertile bitch takes the lead.]

So here we are. One week since BabyLoss, Take 3, and still kicking. This one really, REALLY wasn’t anything compared to Take 1 and Take 2. There’s been some hormone-related snarkiness, but minimal tears and emotional devastation.

RE appt is two weeks from today. Am looking forward to getting this show back on the road.

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[untitled]

August 12, 2009 at 6:23 pm · Filed under Uncategorized ·Tagged

I’m thankful that a D&C wasn’t necessary this time.

I’m thankful for the hydrocodone left over from Bobby’s gallbladder removal.

I’m thankful for Marlena & Tim, who have called with tears in their voices, and who are coming over this evening to bring dinner and just sit with us.

I’m thankful that I’m able to lie on the sofa today instead of having to drag myself through a day of work.

I’m thankful for an email I received today from former roommate, Kim — I am so glad to count her as a friend and kindred spirit.

I’m thankful for the loving text message from Dave that brought tears even through my hydrocodone haze.

I’m thankful that I don’t feel devastated this time. Numbness is much better than devastation.

I’m thankful for solitaire and mindless television.

I’m thankful for the community that I’ve found, and who have found me, through this blog.

I’m thankful for my Bobby, who cancelled his meetings and came home with a bouquet of sunflowers and frosted sugar cookies.

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