Here we go again, I guess
I peed on another stick yesterday and the barely visible line was still there (first obstacle) and it was a hair darker than the day before. I went to pee on a stick.com and checked out first response tests and that is how they looked at day 10, 11, and 12.
So I guess I'm strapped onto the big strollercoaster.
I just returned from a blood draw so I'll get HCG and progesterone results in a few days. I'm concerned about a possible progesterone issue but I’m not sure if I have reason to be. The baby died at 10 1/2 weeks last time which is apparently when the placenta takes over progesterone production.
We didn't get testing done because by the time I delivered the baby into the palm of my hand, I had already been waiting almost five days for a D&C. The doctor who I hope to never see again in my entire life said that it had been dead for too long and that the tissue probably wouldn't grow. And it would cost us $1000. Perhaps if I hadn't had to wait five f*cking days for the D&C then we could've found out why the baby died. I do know that he was a boy. It would be nice to know why he died.
My other early disaster was at 7 ½ weeks but apparently my uterus didn’t get the memo for THREE WEEKS so I’m a little jaded in that department. I saw heartbeats with both of these pregnancies so that’s kind of f*cked also.
And I said I wasn’t going to let fear control me. I believe that I even said something about how “fear can come along for the ride but I’m driving bitch”. Right.
I am not however going into judge myself for … let’s call it being a little apprehensive.
My strategy is this: Fear will come and go. Some days it’ll stay a little longer than others. If I try to shut it down or bury it, that’ll just make it worse. If I judge myself for being afraid, that’ll REALLY make it worse.
I like Billie Holiday’s approach in “Good Morning Heartache.” In this scenario, substitute gut-wrenching terror for heartache. To sum it up, she says “Good morning, heartache, thought we said goodbye last night.” You’re still here you relentless motherf*cker? (my words obviously). Then with resignation, “good morning heartache, sit down.” In other words, I guess we’re gonna do this together, you big bastard.
I’m also starting to do that thing where I think, “well, I’ll wait for the test results to get excited… but then it’ll be the viability check, then the minefield of the rest of the first trimester, then the CERCLAGE, then the threat of deadly infection.” You get the idea.
I did however write in my pregnancy journal. IN PEN.
I kept one with son’s pregnancy. It’s literally called The Pr*gnancy Journal. Then I didn’t even start one with my 2nd pregnancy which ended at 10 ½ weeks. Then I kept one for my daughter’s pregnancy. (it goes like this… terror, blood, ultrasound, terror, blood, ultrasound, blood, blood, blood, psychic who said the baby would have PHYSICAL PROBLEMS IF IT SURVIVED TO BE BORN, much more terror, then live, healthy baby. Go figure. I digress.
Next, with LC’s pregnancy, I didn’t start the journal until 22 weeks, two or three days before I got really cold, started shaking and ended up leaving the hospital four days later without her.
I thought it was weird that I kept journals for the babies that turned out alive but not for the dead ones. So with pregnancy number 5, which began in April, I kept a journal. And that baby died. Go figure. I didn’t really expect the journal would keep the baby alive, I just thought we were due (no pun intended). You know, live baby, dead baby, live baby, dead baby…live baby? Fraid not.
Anywayyyyy so what would superstition have me do now? I started the journal but in recent dead baby’s journal. I didn’t want to buy a new one. Not because I’m cheap but because of some sort of jinx possibility. And really because I don’t want a library of empty dead baby journals so I can’t but a new one for each pregnancy. But the real reason that I didn’t buy a new one is that I don’t want to end up feeling really stupid for waltzing into the bookstore like a pregnant women who thinks her baby will live and buying ANOTHER copy of The Pr*gnancy Journal.
This reminds me of one blogger, I think it was Delphi, who finally let herself wear her cute new maternity shirt only to end up wearing it home from her emergency D&C. OUUUUUCH. I so understand what she is talking about.
So I started the journal, entered Sunday’s date ONLY of course and I’m writing right next to my old entries. Part of me thinks this is morbid and lame but another part of me thinks that this baby, blastocyst actually, wouldn’t be here if Little Melman hadn’t ended up in the palm of my hand, so why juxtapose them. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes? Let’s hope.
So that's my entirly f*cked up way of saying... good news, the line is a little darker today!
So I guess I'm strapped onto the big strollercoaster.
I just returned from a blood draw so I'll get HCG and progesterone results in a few days. I'm concerned about a possible progesterone issue but I’m not sure if I have reason to be. The baby died at 10 1/2 weeks last time which is apparently when the placenta takes over progesterone production.
We didn't get testing done because by the time I delivered the baby into the palm of my hand, I had already been waiting almost five days for a D&C. The doctor who I hope to never see again in my entire life said that it had been dead for too long and that the tissue probably wouldn't grow. And it would cost us $1000. Perhaps if I hadn't had to wait five f*cking days for the D&C then we could've found out why the baby died. I do know that he was a boy. It would be nice to know why he died.
My other early disaster was at 7 ½ weeks but apparently my uterus didn’t get the memo for THREE WEEKS so I’m a little jaded in that department. I saw heartbeats with both of these pregnancies so that’s kind of f*cked also.
And I said I wasn’t going to let fear control me. I believe that I even said something about how “fear can come along for the ride but I’m driving bitch”. Right.
I am not however going into judge myself for … let’s call it being a little apprehensive.
My strategy is this: Fear will come and go. Some days it’ll stay a little longer than others. If I try to shut it down or bury it, that’ll just make it worse. If I judge myself for being afraid, that’ll REALLY make it worse.
I like Billie Holiday’s approach in “Good Morning Heartache.” In this scenario, substitute gut-wrenching terror for heartache. To sum it up, she says “Good morning, heartache, thought we said goodbye last night.” You’re still here you relentless motherf*cker? (my words obviously). Then with resignation, “good morning heartache, sit down.” In other words, I guess we’re gonna do this together, you big bastard.
I’m also starting to do that thing where I think, “well, I’ll wait for the test results to get excited… but then it’ll be the viability check, then the minefield of the rest of the first trimester, then the CERCLAGE, then the threat of deadly infection.” You get the idea.
I did however write in my pregnancy journal. IN PEN.
I kept one with son’s pregnancy. It’s literally called The Pr*gnancy Journal. Then I didn’t even start one with my 2nd pregnancy which ended at 10 ½ weeks. Then I kept one for my daughter’s pregnancy. (it goes like this… terror, blood, ultrasound, terror, blood, ultrasound, blood, blood, blood, psychic who said the baby would have PHYSICAL PROBLEMS IF IT SURVIVED TO BE BORN, much more terror, then live, healthy baby. Go figure. I digress.
Next, with LC’s pregnancy, I didn’t start the journal until 22 weeks, two or three days before I got really cold, started shaking and ended up leaving the hospital four days later without her.
I thought it was weird that I kept journals for the babies that turned out alive but not for the dead ones. So with pregnancy number 5, which began in April, I kept a journal. And that baby died. Go figure. I didn’t really expect the journal would keep the baby alive, I just thought we were due (no pun intended). You know, live baby, dead baby, live baby, dead baby…live baby? Fraid not.
Anywayyyyy so what would superstition have me do now? I started the journal but in recent dead baby’s journal. I didn’t want to buy a new one. Not because I’m cheap but because of some sort of jinx possibility. And really because I don’t want a library of empty dead baby journals so I can’t but a new one for each pregnancy. But the real reason that I didn’t buy a new one is that I don’t want to end up feeling really stupid for waltzing into the bookstore like a pregnant women who thinks her baby will live and buying ANOTHER copy of The Pr*gnancy Journal.
This reminds me of one blogger, I think it was Delphi, who finally let herself wear her cute new maternity shirt only to end up wearing it home from her emergency D&C. OUUUUUCH. I so understand what she is talking about.
So I started the journal, entered Sunday’s date ONLY of course and I’m writing right next to my old entries. Part of me thinks this is morbid and lame but another part of me thinks that this baby, blastocyst actually, wouldn’t be here if Little Melman hadn’t ended up in the palm of my hand, so why juxtapose them. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes? Let’s hope.
So that's my entirly f*cked up way of saying... good news, the line is a little darker today!
posted by whatthef*ck at 11:46 AM
9 Comments:
well, the slightly darker line is a good start.
I will go ahead and congratulate you.
And send good wishes and hopeful things.
And stick around through the fear.
I think there's something fitting about using the journal you started with Little Melman.
If I were you, I'd avoid the psychic this time round though - that was REALLY not what you needed to hear! :-o
Fear sucks. I think it is normal though. Folks who've been through what we've been through are traumatized. I think we can safely diagnose ourselves with some sort of pregnancy loss PTSD.
Oh - and I call it the fertilicoaster but I like strollercoaster!
I hope this one stays and behaves.
Congratulations on the positive hpt! I know you saw a line a couple of days ago, but I like more "proof". :D And now, we get ready to kick Fear's ass.
Well, okay, maybe we can't make Fear leave, but we can make It darned uncomfortable by making It sit in the lumpy chair while we're taking tea.
Congratulations and best of luck...you are in my thoughts.
Darker lines are a good second step… after the two line achievement!
I really like your greeting the heartache each morning concept. I find that the guilt for not being “better” can be as bad sometimes as the grief/depression following my daughters death… so yes… try to just let the feelings come, acknowledge them, and try not to judge them!!! That sounds like the most healthy thing you could be talking about right now.
And congratulations… I didn’t see your announcement yesterday!
Congratulations! Even after everything you've been through, there's got to be some excitement in seeing the 2 lines...even if it's somewhat guarded.
Fear is normal - I've been a total bitch and in mild freak out mode after the RE called to discuss the next cycle...and I haven't even seen the 2 lines yet.
Again, I congratulate you.
I hope this doesn't sound too therapy-ish, but: I need to validate your feelings of fear... there are days when I wake up there, too. The good days are the ones where I don't spend all of my waking hours there.
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