Archives for the month of: July, 2014

Compelling, I know, but true. I write hypothetical blog entries while I commute 45 minutes day way to work. I feel inspired while I’m in the trenches with clients all day. I want to share my reflections about losing my pregnancy, how J and I have moved on, the times we still cry together. I want to write about watching a million women I work with have babies everyday. I want to write about the trips we have planned. I want to write, period!

But alas, when I make it home each evening, after a workout and cooking dinner, all I can do is collapse!

This weekend I’ll write more. Meanwhile, I’m keeping tabs on all the wonderful journeys out there in blog land! Excited for some ending 2WWs, upcoming FET, and babies about to be born!

Love to all and good night.

The procedure went fine. It was painful, but the doctor and nurses very understanding. I was so out of it. Afterwards I threw up water all over the sidewalk in broad daylight. Then I asked J to stop at the French Bakery for brioche. It’s all kind of a blur.

It feels like we had some closure. We rested for the day, and tonight went to get Mexican, complete with coconut margaritas šŸ™‚ It’s time to move on. I will always love my first little nugget though.

Thank you for all of the kind words. It’s comforting knowing how much many of you understand this feeling, and I’m hopeful that the rest of you don’t have to ever experience it. Life doles out a fair amount of heartbreak in many forms, I just hope as the year goes on we can have more celebrations than condolences.

I don’t know whether or not I’ll still need the vacuum procedure in scheduled for tomorrow morning because I’ve been bleeding since I took a second dose of misoprostil on Monday. I have Valium, Vicodin and Doxycycline waiting by the door and they may or may not get used tomorrow. I’m supposed to take them when I arrive in the waiting room. Does that mean I dope myself up before the ultrasound to see if I even need the procedure?!

Last night a couple of dresses I ordered as makeshift maternity items to get me through the next few months arrived. I wore one to work today. The six pounds I packed on trying to deal with morning sickness have already started to dissipate and the dress looked frumpy.

I thought work would distract me. It did for the most part, until a co-worker shared with me that his wife is 5 months along, then later came to my office to personally show me ultrasound pictures. I almost lost it but of course just smiled.

Every time I go through something really sad, I appreciate my cats even more than usual. They are my comfort and joy amidst pretty much anything.

J had to go out of town last night on a business trip. Only one night. I think it was harder for her to leave me alone than me to be alone. I can’t wait for her return in a couple of hours.

I’m not pregnant anymore and I miss it so much. It was exciting and wonderful. I felt like the little child I’ve imagined for seven years was coming closer. Now she’s just a dream again. It’s like another blogger (I hope you read this!) said in one of her entries: “Just give me my babies!”

I know our little nugget wasn’t ready for the world. He or she was sick. We love you anyway, and I miss carrying you around with me everywhere I go. I can’t wait to meet your sibling.

J and I are ready to get past this and have a few months of summer. A few months to settle into work, to enjoy our relationship, to hike, to travel. I’ll start all of that as soon as I stop crying randomly…

Thanks to my word press friends; you’re all so loving. Tonight I’m sending out positive wishes for all your journeys…

“Life is a good teacher and a good friend. Things are always in transition, if we could only realize it. Nothing ever sums itself up in the way that we like to dream about. The off-center, in-between state is an ideal situation, a situation in which we don’t get caught, and in which we can open our hearts and minds beyond the limit.” ~ Pema Chodron, When Things Fall Apart

It’s been a sad, sad few days. We spent all of Saturday in bed crying, but later in the evening we drove out to Venice and drank a bottle of wine on the beach at sunset. We brought pizza and a blanket. We talked so much, reflecting on the past, healing, and planning for the future. In some ways this has helped us reevaluate certain things, brought us closer, and helped us see the future more delicately. Sunday was just as difficult. I woke up crying. I’d be okay for an hour, then I’d start crying again. We even went for a run to see if it would help the medication along, and I felt great, but after the run I was crying again. It’s just part of the grieving – you feel terrible, like nothing is okay, then you feel comforted by something, then you feel inspired, then all of a sudden you’re incredibly sad again.

This morning we went back to the fertility clinic. They did an ultrasound to see if the medication had worked and found tissue still there. I couldn’t look at it. They were sympathetic, but in some ways we were frustrated. I feel like doctors should be more upfront about miscarriage. It would be helpful if they included it in the general introduction of this whole thing, just explained that it’s a normal part of some peoples’ journeys, and what to expect if it does happen. Especially financially. For example, to get the D & C with our fertility doctor, whom we love and feel comfortable with, would be $3,000 out of pocket, as the fertility clinic doesn’t take insurance. We didn’t know this until it was actually happening. Then we started the nightmare of trying to get a D & C at Kaiser. A little head’s up would have prepared us more for this whole experience.

Anyway, I went to work and immediately met with the director of my clinic. She was amazing. I was tearful and she immediately stood up and gave me a long hug. She listened to the whole story. I told her that I almost didn’t take the job because we were TTC, and she replied that if I’d tried to decline the job because we wanted to have a baby she wouldn’t have let me. She said having a baby is a normal part of life, that lots of employees in our clinic have had pregnancy leaves. She said I could take all the time I needed this week and that she was so sorry. It was really helpful to hear all of that, and to confide that I had struggled with taking the job and getting pregnant at the same time. Yes, I’m a total teacher’s pet, but I need my boss to know how conscientious I am!

I spent a loooong time trying to get an appointment at kaiser to be evaluated for the D & C. I finally got an appointment and rushed out of work. J left her office and met me there because she’s an amazing partner. I withstood yet another vaginal ultrasound (the third in two days) and the doctor confirmed that the placenta and gestational sac were still there (thanks a lot). They scheduled a D & E (less invasive than D & C) for Thursday morning at 8 am. I threw some fits that they couldn’t do it today, but I’m too tired to get into that right now.

Then my real doctor from the fertility clinic finally called with her condolences. She explained that she had been out of town and she was so sorry. Hearing her voice made me start crying again. She suggested that since I have to wait two more days anyway, I could try taking another dose of misoprostol.

So here I am on my couch, curled up in a blanket in the middle of a Monday afternoon. I took another dose of misoprostol a couple of hours ago. I’m so nauseous. I threw up my whole dinner last night and now I feel like I might lose my lunch. My temp is elevated (99.5) and I’m shivering. Not sure what’s going on in my body but I’m sad and I’m sick and I can’t wait for this whole thing to be over.

I was pregnant. For a few weeks I was having every symptom imaginable. I felt like my whole life and in some ways my identity were changing. I was becoming a mom. A few years ago I used to imagine what it would be like to have a child and yearn for that closeness and that caretaking, to see what kinds of things my child would say and do. About a week ago I started to get excited for that again. Now it feels like I had a taste of it, making it even worse that it’s not actually happening anymore.

I know we have more chances, but that’s not the point.

On a positive note, J and I booked a bed and breakfast in Idyllwild for two weekends from now. We got a nice room with a jacuzzi tub and hiking all around. Looking forward to that is comforting.

Thank you everyone for your gracious words of kindness, your own stories, and just for being here and reading. My blogger support is really helping.

I’m writing this from our spare bedroom, where a few hopeful onesies hang on the door, my positive pregnancy test boasts from its spot on the desk, and empty menopur bottles are lined up along the edge to remind us of the excitement of the egg stimulation.

We went in for our 8-week ultrasound this morning. The whole experience was just off. We were already having a tough couple of days but we felt like the second ultrasound was going to get our moods back on track. They had lost our appointment so we had to wait for an hour in a cold room. Our doctor wasn’t in, neither was our IVF coordinator. When we had our first u/s and everything looked great, our doctor had hugged us both and said we would graduate after today’s appointment. When we finally got into the ultrasound room, the doctor said “something doesn’t look right.” On the screen, the mass that used to be turning into my baby was silent and immobile. She said she didn’t see a heartbeat, then checked the doppler, which was silent. According to the u/s printout, the heartbeat stopped a week ago.

I can’t believe this is happening. It’s a horrible feeling, losing something that was so important, was changing your life forever, was altering your body, making you her home, settling in for the long haul, and is still inside you but no longer alive.

Having to be at the clinic after the u/s was awful. The doctor had us meet her in an office and explained our options – a D & C or taking the medication to extract the pregnancy. J and I cried and comforted each other alternately. I was terrified about work – I just started a new job and I can’t miss a day of work. They don’t know I was pregnant and I don’t even know my new supervisor’s cell phone number. Just let this tissue pass in peace, today or tomorrow, so by Monday I can at least act like things are normal.

We went to the pharmacy to get the misoprostol. The girl was really nice. She looked at me and I could tell she understood, and I started crying again. She got our meds ready in 3 minutes, the fastest I’ve ever seen.

At home I shook out the four pills I was to take vaginally. Four little white hexagons that will get rid of something we wanted so badly, something we worked for and planned for, something I’ve been protecting and falling in love with for weeks.

Today feels like a nightmare. I’m scared to go to sleep because I’ll have to wake up and remember what happened. The medication hasn’t worked yet and I’m anxious about what it’s going to be like. I feel a lot of cramping but that’s it. J is sleeping. We don’t know how to get through this experience without just feeling every pang of disappointment, shock, confusion and grief. And sleeping. There’s no way out but through.

I know that miscarriage is often a part of pregnancy. My own mother had several miscarriages and ended up having a life full of motherhood. I think what’s bothering me the most is the savings J spent on this pregnancy. We can’t recover the thousands and thousands of dollars she saved for many years, and decided to invest in our baby. I know that money should be the farthest thing from my mind right now, but with IVF, you go through so many months of appointments, medication regimens, huge bills, surgery, procedures, building up hope where there used to be money. Now it’s all gone – the hope and the money. I wish we could just go home and “try again” but it’s not like that. We have only two embryos left, and even if those implant, this could happen again.

tI’ve stopped posting because I feel like unless I have time for an insightful, witty post I just shouldn’t write anything! But that’s not realistic these days with my new job taking over! So a quick update: I love my new job. The work itself is great, being back in an office that’s community-oriented is great, and there are lots of perks. I carry the little nugget to South Central every morning so she’ll come out street-smart! Being back in a job where I’m interacting with mental health clients all day is very refreshing. My last job was at a school where I coordinated the intake program. I didn’t get to see clients in person very often and the clinical issues weren’t as interesting. The new clinic is for women only, and focused on women coming out of jail or with DCFS issues, so I get to do clinical assessments and ongoing therapy with women who have very real, severe things going on. I’m so excited! Since I’ve done this work for years prior to moving to LA, I jumped right in feeling pretty familiar with the work, just needing to train on paperwork and procedure. After feeling stunted at the previous job for almost a year, it’s incredibly nice to be back in the trenches.

That being said, I’ve been miserably nauseas. I wake up, dry heave for a few minutes, eat all day long because it’s the only thing that helps my morning sickness, gag in the bathroom at work throughout the day, then feel queasy before, during and after dinner. I’ve also had insomnia for three weeks in which I wake up at 4:30 and don’t go back to sleep. I don’t mean to complain, I’m so happy that things are moving along and nausea is a good sign!

I found a “cure” for morning sickness though! It’s a combo of vitamin B6 and Unisom. I was wary about taking a sleeping pill but it actually works! You have to take the unisom that’s doxylamine succinate. Take 1/2 a tab of that and 100mg of B6. I wish someone had told me about this a few weeks ago! I only took it last night and not only did I sleep through the night, but I was much less nauseas throughout the day. I’m impressed!