tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61321010632385723082024-03-04T23:57:50.766-05:00So much for simple and easyThis blog is about my life, my quest to build my family, and the random stuff that comes up along the wayirrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.comBlogger223125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-16823846573809955372013-04-23T20:25:00.000-04:002013-04-23T20:25:00.378-04:00As we predicted<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
No heartbeat at u/s today and no real growth since last week.<br />
<br />
So after <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">two ultrasounds (the latter a high res one to confirm), a d&c, lots of blood loss, serious vomiting and nausea and gut wrenching cramping followed by 4 Advil and a nap, I'm ready to call it a day. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">I'm still dizzy but mostly feel ok now.</span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"> Dr said the clot was enormous and had my uterus all distended which accounts for the extra special cramping, so I'm glad I didn't choose to do this one on my own</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But thank you all for rooting for us. It was so helpful and inspiring. I'm going to retreat and lick my wounds a bit, try to lose 10 lbs and get into some physical shape before I decide what's next. </span></div>
</span></span></div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-67755361561202146392013-04-15T20:06:00.003-04:002013-04-15T20:06:42.928-04:00Today was odd<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This was a very strange day.<br />
<br />
After last Thursdays U/S that saw a large sac and nothing else (except there is still a lot of blood in my uterus) we collectively decided it was time to be done. So I scheduled another high res u/s and a d&c for today, essentially back to back.<br />
<br />
I never made it to the d&c. Instead, there was a fetal pole and a heartbeat. But not an especially rapid one. It's likely to still go south based on the low hr (it's 65 - it's really low), but I was certainly in no position to terminate this pregnancy today.<br />
<br />
The sac is low, almost near my cervix, and there is a lot of blood above it, but my cervix is log and closed and nothing is coming out.<br />
<br />
The head of obstetric ultrasound who told me I was miscarrying two weeks ago was a bit abashed, but it still is a real long shot. All I can say is that my body Really wants to hold on to this pregnancy. And maybe that and a lot of luck will get us by. I'm doubtful, as the prognostic indicators are not great, but his is already such a long shot on top of a long shot, I don't even know what to think any more. </div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-8062109723214386142013-04-11T14:09:00.001-04:002013-04-11T14:09:36.431-04:00More of what we already knew<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So here we are. <br />
<br />
My body, by every possible measure, thinks I am very pregnant. I have a 20 mm sac in my uterus and HCG levels well above 20,000. I'm also nauseated, exhausted, craving protein and dying of thirst. <br />
<br />
So yeah, I'm pregnant.<br />
<br />
But not really. <br />
<br />
Because, you see, there is nothing in that fast-growing sac. Not a damned thing. <br />
<br />
At this point, there really should be something. What's maddening (and very surprising to my RE, who is at one of the largest clinics in NYC and has been doing this for a while) is that my betas are and continue to be textbook doubling. My gestational sac growth is perfectly on track. But the sac is empty.<br />
<br />
So I have scheduled another high-res ultrasound for Monday afternoon to confirm what we already know, and then am waiting to hear back from my OB to schedule a D&E. At this point, there is enough tissue and other stuff in there that my RE is worried that I will end up in the ER if my body ever decides to do this on its own. <br />
<br />
I haven't cried much, mostly because I just don't think it really helps me at all and I don't have the energy. Except I did today. After dry heaving in the RE's exam room, I pretty much lost it. It's really brutal to feel like shit from hormones due to a pregnancy that isn't really anything at all. And then after I got to work to find that I had mis-remembered the time of a meeting that I was supposed to run and so was 30 minutes late, I first yelled at the coworker who informed me of that and then very nearly started crying in my office.<br />
<br />
I'm pretty much on the ragged edge. Things are starting to slip (paying bills? not happening. Cooking dinner? Not so much.). Some people might wait for their bodies to just deal with this naturally. Others might wait 2-3 weeks to confirm that no embryo magically appears. I'm frankly not that interested in magical thinking at this point. <br />
<br />
I need this to be over.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-85430140548099317142013-04-08T16:55:00.002-04:002013-04-08T16:55:27.963-04:00In other news...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I took my tiny little baby boy to the dentist today. And he was very brave and has almost all of his teeth (missing 2 molars, but all others are accounted for).<br />
<br />
It's amazing. One minute he weighed less than six pounds and I could hold him in my hand and this morning he used a power screwdriver to disassemble an airplane (don't worry -- it's a TOY power screwdriver. It only could hurt him if he put it in his eye/ mouth/ear....). And we walked all the way to the dentist, nearly 10 city blocks away. <br />
<br />
Right now, B is exceptionally snuggly. When he is scared or upset he runs to me and says "want to hug mommy" and then he wraps his arms around me and squeezes. He likes giving kisses -- I usually leave the house for work with a fair amount of toddler slobber on one or both cheeks -- and likes getting kisses, which suits me just fine.<br />
<br />
He has started saying things that are just funny -- he is always saying he needs "to go over there and check on something" which cracks me up every time. He says "Remember when we (insert something from 3 hours or 6 months ago)" and then proceeds to tell me all about it. We went to a fancy exotic pet store last week and saw a snake eating a mouse. So we've been talking about that quite a bit. And he makes this very earnest snake face with his eyebrows up and his tongue coming in and out of his mouth. It's pretty much hysterical.<br />
<br />
I told him Oscar the Grouch (who he knows from his diapers) lives in a garbage can and likes things that are stinky and dusty and poopy, and that caused so many giggles that he had the hiccups for several hours. And then we had to listen to I Love Trash several times.<br />
<br />
He has taken to asking "what's that" about 10000 times a day, even pointing to things he knows in his books. (Yes, B, that's a car. The same car in the same book we've read 100 times this week.) It's fun to see his mind and his vocabulary continuing to expand. It also makes reading a book exhausting.<br />
<br />
This morning, on our walk to the dentist, we saw a dump truck dumping, a digger, a man with a hose and a sweeper truck. It was possibly the most exciting morning commute EVER. I have never seen so much excitement. <br />
<br />
We've been learning how things grow, and so had some forced bulbs in the house (hyacinths, mostly, as I like the smell) and he loves looking at the buds on the trees and how the are turning into leaves and flowers. He can identify a daffodil and a crocus and a tulip (although the flowers on those aren't out yet) and every once in a while will apropos of nothing pull out the word "forsythia." <br />
<br />
He's increasingly physically confident. He can open most doors, reach all counters (he is almost 38" tall), and is now fully leaping off the furniture. It's both amusing and terrifying. And he's a great climber. We've also recently acquired a helmet and so now he has started using his scooter in the park.<br />
<br />
Of course, he's still stubborn and a mediocre listener and has periods of really really annoying whining. And he's decided that peeing on the floor is a hoot. And he hits other kids sometimes and also sometimes hits me and seems to think it is hysterical (and then I panic think I have a child who lacks empathy), but as it turns out, he's just a large, rambunctious two year old with pretty mediocre impulse control.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjycb_7WOJg3fhIiMq1IC-J8sedaarFYzzEqaFsKiHYUMeHsQ-8QVxqOhTdsc0lR9CRVsEIBlOVZ2aQZlxVgKIa-NvLstV9bQShNbGhbN94V5C3agg-_4lUar5VmBWo8COdXriGgDWZp_M5/s1600/window.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjycb_7WOJg3fhIiMq1IC-J8sedaarFYzzEqaFsKiHYUMeHsQ-8QVxqOhTdsc0lR9CRVsEIBlOVZ2aQZlxVgKIa-NvLstV9bQShNbGhbN94V5C3agg-_4lUar5VmBWo8COdXriGgDWZp_M5/s400/window.JPG" width="300" /></a>I can't believe I have a little boy who can ride a scooter, and has enough teeth to go to the dentist. And who can ask for kisses on the cheek. <br />
<br />
However this other thing turns out (and all signs are bad), I'm amazingly lucky to have B in my life.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-64974989437667973972013-04-04T16:10:00.001-04:002013-04-05T12:20:48.401-04:00Number 3! But with extra bleeding! UPDATED<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So, as I feared, the nascent gestational sac is still quite small and pretty much empty. Oh, and it's very much in the wrong place, closer to my cervix than anything else.<br />
<br />
I knew this was going sideways last evening, when I lost about a pint of blood and had bad cramping. No amount of googling stories about how that didn't really mean anything to the fate of a pregnancy could convince me that this was going to work.<br />
<br />
The awesome thing is that the US detected a lot MORE blood in my uterus. In fact, it's full. Cervix is still long and closed, though, so this could take a while. The only thing that's for certain is that it's going to be messy.<br />
<br />
To explain how truly awesome my evening was last night, I have to paint a bit of a picture:<br />
- My husband is in Paris, and getting on a plane at 3am EST to return home.<br />
- I am hosting my cousins and their 19 month old for a playdate. And my cousin's wife? Of course she is 7 months pregnant.<br />
- I start to feel cramping so retreat to the bathroom. Blood. And lots. I dig up a pad from somewhere in the bathroom and wait until they leave.<br />
- While bathing my son, I spend most of the time watching him while sitting on the toilet hoping I don't pass out.<br />
- I get him to bed and call the RE's office. I get the really annoying medical fellow who, when she is done hearing my tale of woe and giving me instructions, says "OK, have a great evening"<br />
- I'm still worried about an ectopic and am soaking through a pad an hour, so call her back two hours later. I'm wondering how I will make a trip to the ER, so I get my babysitter ready to come over if I need her. She is a saint. (But I feel very awkward.) Thankfully, the bleeding slows by 11 so no ER trip necessary. But I have a moment of panic that I am internally bleeding and am going to be found dead in a pool of my own blood.<br />
- I'm also out of pads, so wondering what I am going to do. Then I remember I have a nearly endless supply of diapers! And nighttime diapers! And pull-ups! I get a variety of diapers, the scissors and some cloth medical tape ready in case I need to do some emergency arts and crafts.<br />
- I have nice sheets that are white, so I decide the best solution is to sleep on the extra waterproof crib mattress pad. It's not that comfortable, actually, as it is designed to be fitted around a crib mattress. But thankfully I don't destroy it or my bedding.<br />
<br />
So, yeah. Loads of scary blood, pregnant people, solo parenting, and a lack of sanitary products. Oh, and I pretty much lost the pregnancy, although we knew that was happening. Was over all a fabulous evening.<br />
<br />
Today, my husband is home and I am going to curl up and do nothing. Except maybe eat a cupcake. And cry. Because I am nearing the end of my rope and I am about to turn 43. It was not supposed to happen this way.<br />
<br />
UPDATE: Sonafab*tch. My HCG went from 2199 on Monday to over 8000 today. My stupid body doesn't know I am miscarrying. More bloodwork today and then may have to help this along. Motherf*er. Can this not be easy???? </div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-35561005741289410642013-04-01T09:58:00.000-04:002013-04-01T13:55:43.723-04:00Ugh and double ugh: Udated<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Been having some intermittent sharp pains/ dull achiness on the right side and since I was going in for bw this morning, mentioned it to the nurse.<br />
<br />
US shows nothing. And by nothing I mean nothing obviously in my uterus (where there should be a sac visible by now) and nothing definitive in either tube/ ovary. I'm going to the fancy u/s (with the pregnant women, where they definitively diagnosed my m/c last year) at 11am.<br />
<br />
Shit shit shit.<br />
<br />
More later. <br />
<br />
UPDATED:<br />
Fancy u/s shows what may be a very small gestational sac in my uterus. Nothing obviously awry anywhere else and no sign of bleeding anywhere. Beta is 2199, so rising appropriately. So I'm pregnant, but we can't really find it yet.<br />
<br />
Option 1- a perfect gestational sac shows back up on Thursday with a yolk sac and other stuff. All proceeds as we hope.<br />
Option 2 - no sac anywhere/ sac shows up somewhere else. Ectopic dx.<br />
Option 3 - gestational sac there but small and continues to measure behind until it's all over.<br />
<br />
I'm going to hope for Option 1 and bet on Option 3.</div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-84435242253734027722013-03-30T22:15:00.000-04:002013-03-30T22:15:51.149-04:00It's up to 1066<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Phew. This seems good. Doubling time is now 40 hours, so that's pretty good. Dr. is pleased. I am ok.<br />
<br />
Actually did not hear from the Dr until 630 a even that required several calls and some agita. <br />
<br />
I guess we will just keep crossing our fingers until Monday, when I do this again. If all good then us Thursday.<br />
<br />
No real symptoms to date except some tugging- cramping feelings in my uterus. Oh and I have had two bloody noses. Which I've never had before. Not sure what that means except I should carry more tissues.<br />
<br />
Pretty much now settling into the waiting. Easier during the weekend than when I am at my desk. <br />
<br />
Thank you all for the emotional support. </div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-64188233106975396722013-03-29T12:02:00.000-04:002013-03-29T12:02:48.754-04:00Obsessing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Oh but the crazy is hard to work through.<br />
<br />
I am obsessively trying to sort out whether my beta levels are actually too low for this to be a real, sustainable pregnancy. I've convinced myself that this is doomed. <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/16449115">Here</a> is why. Apparently low HCG levels are associated with an increased risk of miscarriage after heartbeat is seen. And they define low as 181 on 16 dpo. And I was 176.<br />
<br />
I know this is different than my last pregnancy -- those numbers were definitively low -- 39 at 15 dpo, 264 at 19 dpo, 920 at 21 dpo -- but for some reason I feel that mine are still low now and that, combined with my age, is just predicting disaster. I feel somehow like<a href="http://www.babymed.com/tools/hcg-calculator"> this </a>stupid chart that I use to plot betas only means real baby if your betas are ABOVE the max line (as mine were for B).<br />
<br />
I don't want to get excited by a heartbeat again and then lose this. If I do, I think I will see that as a sign and just give up.<br />
<br />
I've convinced them I am going in tomorrow. Even though they really don't usually run HCG tests on the weekend. I just can't take the crazy.</div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-47239635063405144772013-03-28T12:36:00.001-04:002013-03-28T12:36:32.037-04:00Beta 2 -- all looks ok<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
476. Doubling time of 34 hours and right on the median on the fancy chart I use. I wish I could figure out how to cut the image from the website, but whatever.<br />
<br />
I'm both trying to relax and enjoy each moment as it comes as well as freaking the f*ck out. At the same time. <br />
<br />
I know that my risk of miscarriage is very high<br />
I know the risk of chromosomal abnormality is very high<br />
I know that at my age the risk of preterm labor is high<br />
<br />
I also know that I have never ever gotten pregnant before without ART despite months and months of trying, and that this -- especially at my age -- is nothing short of a miracle. I'm not that religious, so I don't throw that word around lightly. I speak more of probabilities and likelihoods. But this? Defying pretty much all I know about statistics.<br />
<br />
So this can go sideways or down or bad in about 100 different ways, but right now I'm focusing on the "miracle" part of this. <br />
<br />
I may go in for another beta on Saturday am, just because I am crazy. I own the crazy though, and frankly I think a situation like this warrants some crazy. <br />
<br />
Part of me wants to call my OB, who I love and would be friends with if she wasn't also my OB, and tell her about this. But then I remember that right after I made the appt. last time I had a miscarriage and when I went to see her it was for the d&c. So I will wait until after this u/s. And maybe until after I can hear a heartbeat (although I saw that last time, too). I'm rambling. And shockingly unproductive at work.<br />
<br />
I'll find out later this pm about an u/s next week. Holy sh*t.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-49105972343181932692013-03-27T11:08:00.001-04:002013-03-27T11:08:11.275-04:00So a funny thing happened<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I appear to have gotten pregnant. Without IVF. At age 42.8. <br />
<br />
I went in for bloodwork to check on where my period was to start my IVF cycle, and so imagine my surprise when my RE called me to tell me that I hadn't gotten a period because my beta was 173 at what I believe is 16 dpo. Or thereabouts. Because I wasn't really paying attention this month as we had been taking a bit of a break.<br />
<br />
Anyway. I'm surprised as all get out. And anxious. Because, you know, this is only the very very beginning of the road and I have been here before.<br />
<br />
Because I really thought they had mixed my results up with someone else, I went and bought the fanciest, most expensive pregnancy tests I could find. It says I'm pregnant, too. I'm including a photo for you to see. <br />
<br />
It's ridiculous. Truly ridiculous.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ_5FMvLkNdsNb5KZtm9gkolWNZ9HZruQ4gjg5LHRFeYh97JSWUJ74ztDouPzPIEHjLSaFh2J3KYxehtcA-fz_-pb-5ucmUOBfsfVbkAsBxMZHJkBkYdpD8cCTVKVKY4NX5LXBSOq_zMe3/s1600/Surprise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ_5FMvLkNdsNb5KZtm9gkolWNZ9HZruQ4gjg5LHRFeYh97JSWUJ74ztDouPzPIEHjLSaFh2J3KYxehtcA-fz_-pb-5ucmUOBfsfVbkAsBxMZHJkBkYdpD8cCTVKVKY4NX5LXBSOq_zMe3/s1600/Surprise.jpg" /></a></div>
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irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-4361012508364021342013-02-14T12:48:00.000-05:002013-02-14T12:48:36.299-05:00My son turns two and we visit the ICU<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Let's start by saying we are all fine. Now. But it has been a LOOONG week. This is mostly just stream of consciousness because I need to get it out of my head and on paper.<br />
<br />
Ben turned 2 last Saturday, and we had a lovely party with brunch and a cake with ladybugs on it and presents and many many helium balloons and it was all good. (I will write more on that later. There's a post about being a working mom that is brewing, but I have to get the scary part out first.) The best way, I think, is with a timeline.<br />
<br />
Sunday night, our Superbowl viewing was interrupted by crying. B had vomited his dinner everywhere and had a fever of 102. Mommy and Daddy tag team to clean him up and change his bed, and we both regret giving him milk at bedtime and strawberries for desert. But within 30 minutes he is full of advil and back asleep soundly. <br />
<br />
Monday morning, he wakes up fine with no fever. He's surprisingly not hungry, though. We take ourselves to his well baby checkup and are pleased to hear that his chest and ears are clear and that this is probably just one of the many viruses running around. B once again is charming and lovely, after he ceases his hysterics about having to leave the toys in the waiting room. He is a picture of health, and we discuss important things like the dentist, potty training and 2% milk.<br />
<br />
Monday evening, the fever is back, but just in the 101s. We give him advil before bedtime and he sleeps through the night.<br />
<br />
Tuesday morning, I leave really early, before he wakes. DH and nanny report he still has a fever, and he's breathing rapidly. I check with his ped and they tell me to control his fever and watch for really labored breathing, but that the rapid respiratory rate can be due to fever. They recommend really pushing fluids, since rapid breathing and fever can lead to dehydration.<br />
<br />
Tuesday night, I get home by 6pm. B is still breathing heavily, but he's so congested at this point that it seems reasonable. Fever still not very high (102) but he has not eaten or wanted much to drink. DH and I are sick too, at this point, with sore throats and coughs. Advil and bed. Sleeps through the night. We discuss taking him to the Dr. in the morning if he is not better.<br />
<br />
Wednesday morning, B is really starting to labor to breathe and his fever is above 103 even after the advil, so DH and nanny and B take a taxi to the ped (I am, of course, at an IVF related appointment across town). Ped gives him two nebulizer treatments and some oral steroids (both bronchodilators), and then sends them to ER and tells them "don't wait."<br />
<br />
Late Wednesday morning, I pick them up in cab and we all go to ER together. Right back to where I was for my early morning appointment. ER triage seems not very alarmed by B, in contrast to his parents, since he is taking 60+ breaths per minute and using his diaphragm to breathe and he is trying so hard you can see his ribs. And his blood oxygen levels are in the mid-80% range. (Note they should be above 95%.) We go into ER and they pretty much immediately start him on supplemental oxygen and another nebulizer, which make no difference at all. The nurses seem not necessarily alarmed, but we get a fair amount of attention. IV gets put in, but he wiggles and then (since I am on the bed with him) I am sitting in a pool of my own child's blood. They start magnesium (another bronchodilator), hoping to make it easier for him to breath. Fancy oxygen contraption brought in with special mask. This one is pressurized so forces additional air into his lungs every time he takes a breath. Oxygen levels finally stabilize but he is still working hard. They take a chest xray. He naps on my chest while I stare out into space and just try not to panic while my baby struggles to breathe. I ask the resident whether my baby boy will recover from this and he tells me "he should." Which is frankly small comfort.<br />
<br />
We get asked a lot of questions about asthma history, other health, etc. He's pretty much been the picture of health since he was born (barring some early reflux), and no one in our family has asthma. They start him on IV antibiotics since his xray is a bit cloudy.<br />
<br />
By early Wednesday afternoon they tell us he has 3 viruses -- RSV and two cold viruses, and the pneumonia is likely viral as well. RSV is the worst on day 4, and so we hope we are closer to the end than to the beginning, but everyone is surprised he has three different viruses that he is fighting off.<br />
<br />
Later Wednesday afternoon his breathing rate slows and he appears to be working slightly less hard to get air into his lungs, and there is an ICU bed available, so we go upstairs. To the pediatric INTENSIVE CARE UNIT. My brain is sort of refusing to process that we are in a place where the VERY sick kids go, until we are there. And then we are there, and we are sharing a room with two other VERY sick little girls. I can't even look at them with all of their beeping and tubes -- they are both sedated and restrained and it makes me nauseous to think of what could go wrong and so honestly I pretend that they are not there, except I know that they are and that it is the saddest thing I have seen, and breaks my heart for their families (who I never even see).<br />
<br />
By this point he is off the pressurized air and just on regular oxygen, and still on IV fluids since he has not had anything to eat or drink in a day. He's begging for water but we can't give him any since the pressurize air machine can make him choke, so I have to tell him he is drinking through his arm. At which point he tries to pull out the IV. He's now covered in cords monitoring heart rate, respiratory rate, blood O2 levels, and he, who hates any stickers on his body, is ANGRY. And screaming. But thankfully he stops. Except he wants to get off the bed and walk. This is a good sign, I guess, that he wants to walk, since he begged to be carried earlier, but there is no way he can walk anywhere with his many tubes and cords. And again, he is ANGRY (and a little bit scared, too).<br />
<br />
By early Wednesday evening we get approval to let him drink since he is getting better enough that we don't need the pressurized air machine anymore and he sucks down 8oz of water in about a second. His fever has broken and he also is finally talking after being pretty silent for most of the day (oh, except for the crying. So much crying.). All of this makes me much happier, since I can see his energy levels are back up. I finally exhale and realize that he is getting better and going to be ok.<br />
<br />
If I'm honest, I don't think I actually was as scared as I should have been. I just stayed in the moment and believed (perhaps foolishly) that once we were in the hospital nothing bad could happen since there were drs and nurses and they would not let bad things happen. I just sort of shut my brain off to the possibility of terrible things and dealt with what was in front of us right then. When my husband started to cry I did too a bit, and then I told him to get his shit together since I did not want to scare Ben. So yeah, I was anxious when he wasn't getting better with the initial nebulizers and steroids, but it was never panic. I guess that's good. Probably my own coping mechanisms. I'm actually pretty good in a crisis. (Note I was in a building hit by a plane on 9/11, and while I was scared, I never actually panicked. I just believed that it would all work out ok and that I would walk down the stairs and get out. When I got home much later I completely lost my shit. But that's another story.)<br />
<br />
At around 7pm my wonderful wonderful nanny who had been with B all day went home, and by 11pm so did DH. B went to sleep in the big hospital bed and then I made the pullout and went to sleep. Turns out the ICU is noisy, and every time B moved his O2 mask would come off and his levels would drop and he would beep, and then I would leap up and fix it. But he actually got about 7 hours of sleep. And except for the 15 minutes that he woke up terrified and screaming, it actually was not so bad. It broke my heart into about 1000 pieces to see him so scared, but I was ultimately able to soothe him and get him back to bed.<br />
<br />
At 6am Thursday I wake up with a red and gooey right eye. But Ben is talking and has no fever and his o2 levels are good when off the mask. WHen DH at 9 I leave to the eye Dr. (catching pink eye from the ER was really not cool, and almost put me over the edge) and home to clean up and pick up lunch for the troops. He's doing so much better that I know that the worst is over. When I am home and standing in his room I cry. Just because he belongs in his crib not some hospital bed with cords and tubes and beeping machines. <br />
<br />
At noon I return and learn he has eaten a bit and is drinking a lot of water and was chatty and alert (all in contrast to the previous day). Attending tells us we will be able to leave if he has sufficient wet diapers and his sleeping o2 levels are high enough. Which requires him to sleep, which he is refusing to do. I finally get him down for a nap without o2 and his levels stay in the low nineties, even though he is still taking 40 odd breaths per minute. 2 hours later, he wakes up, and by 6pm we are on our way home with instructions to monitor his resp rate and to go to the ped in the morning to check in.<br />
<br />
Overall, we thought that the nurses and drs at the hospital were wonderful. So so good to him and to us. We are lucky -- we live near some of the best care in the world, and we feel like we got it for our little boy.<br />
<br />
By 630 pm Thursday we are home. He runs around like a madman touching all of his things and talking. We give him a bath and I weep a little bit at his bruised arm and the sticky stuff from the monitors on his back. He's pale and 2+ lbs lighter than he was early in the week, and he's still a little wheezy, but he is in our house in warm soapy water in the tub and he is going to be fine. <br />
<br />
We put him to bed and then time his breathing all night long. It's fine. He is fine. My husband and I sit on the sofa like zombies, but for our own hacking and coughing (yeah, we now are ALL sick with the miserable cold). He sleeps for nearly 12 hours and wakes up and in the morning tells me "Actually Mommy is wearing a night gown." For some reason this makes me laugh hysterically and we sit in the big chair snuggling and giggling for a couple of hours.<br />
<br />
By Friday he seems fine. Today he seems more so. Monday he went back to regular activities and playing with kids. We went sledding on Sunday. But he is skinny and pale still and his arm is still bruised and he talks about ouchies and the mask like an elephant. He's still processing it. So am I (obviously). I never, never want to go back to the ICU. My heart breaks for parents of sick children who need to be there more than just one night. We are so lucky -- my baby boy is going to be just fine.</div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-32455598022892683902013-01-16T15:31:00.001-05:002013-01-16T15:31:10.601-05:00You are my sunshine<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine<br />
You make me happy when skies are grey.<br />
You'll never know dear, how much I love you.<br />
Please don't take my sunshine away.<br />
<br />
This was how I was serenaded by my little boy while he stood in his room wearing a ridiculous hat and strumming his guitar. <br />
<br />
My heart almost burst.<br />
<br />
I realized that my last two posts were really pretty depressing. Not just a little bit, but completely grim. But to be honest, life isn't really like that at ALL. In fact, our days are regularly brightened by the remarkable little boy in our home. So this post is all about B and what a wonderful spectacular kid he is. Note I have not said "baby" because it is pretty clear that he is no longer a baby. As we approach his 2nd birthday (how the time has flown!), I thought that it might be good to just put some of the wonderful things he does down on paper.<br />
<br />
He's fully into toddlerdom now. Everything is "Ben's turn" or "wanna do it" (we still aren't 100% on the pronouns here.) While it makes for some annoyingly long processes (putting on pants, pouring milk, scrubbing in the bath), it is remarkable to watch him assert his separate-ness and independence. He's also increasingly bossy. "Mommy sit in the chair" "Mommy sit in THAT chair" "Mommy pick me up" "Mommy jump." The other day, instead of being greeted with a hello or a good morning, I was greeted by "Mommy turn off the humidifier. Sit in chair. Want to sit on lap wearing bib and drink milk." So yeah, bossy. But at least the kid knows what he wants. For at least a second or two. <br />
<br />
He's also started crying more. When we say no. When we take away an inappropriate object (no it is NOT ok to put a ziploc freezer bag over your head, thankyouverymuch). When we stop doing something he wants to keep doing. But mercifully, he is easily distracted and we can usually stop the tears in a minute or two. The other day he had the closest thing I've seen to a true meltdown tantrum, and after some hugging and being diverted by a book he was ok. But I fear for whats coming -- I can see them getting worse. He already has figured out that by pinning his elbows to his body he can prevent being picked up easily, which, with enormo-baby, makes for some interesting ways of holding him. Sunday since he refused to hold my hand, I had to scoop him up and carry him like a wiggly, howling football across the street. The nice thing is that it's NYC and no one pays much attention to strangers.<br />
<br />
Other things? He is really starting to do imaginative play all by himself. He takes his toys and makes little voices and talks to them. Animals go for walks in the stroller, get put to sleep with a pillow, get woken up, walk, play the piano -- all to his low-level narration of what's happening. He also does some funny voices for the animals, which is just a riot. He has some foam bath toys and last night the gorilla was walked down the edge of the tub and was put to sleep. All in a funny voice. Which made me bite my tongue laughing.<br />
<br />
He loves loves loves music. We presently have an entire band in his room -- recorder, small piano, banjo, various shakers and bells -- and he will play them and sing songs. He has a repertoire of about 10-20 songs at this point, which is pretty amazing, and if you are humming one he will recognize it and start singing. We just recently started allowing him to use the iPad (he had the flu and we were going stir crazy and broke down) and he loves the Magic Piano app (as do I!) and has learned nearly all of the instruments in the orchestra from another app that I love (Meet the Orchestra). I love that he loves music, so we are trying to keep more non-kids music on in the house so that he can hear the instruments and just get accustomed to rhythm, etc.<br />
<br />
I think the most amazing thing to see is his language development. He's always been a pretty good talker, but now he actually speaks. In sentences that make sense. He can tell me what he did during the day, and I get it. And he can tell me what he wants, and I can help him. Or he can ask me questions, and I can explain things. This last bit both blows me away and cracks me up. "Shall we put on our coat?" "Shall we read a story?" Not quite sure why he speaks like the Queen of England, but I'm not complaining. Earlier this week he asked "Why is the wipes on the floor over here?" to me when I had put an empty tissue box on the floor to take to the recycling. It was a good question -- it didn't belong on the floor -- but I was not prepared to have to explain what I was doing. At least not yet. I see a lot more "Why..." questions in my near future, and it's pretty amazing.<br />
<br />
Along with his speaking, he's started recognizing letters. He can pretty reliably recognize about 5-7 capital letters ("That's a C over there" "That's TWO C's!") So going outside is now a letter finding extravaganza and can make a bus or subway ride, which is already the best. thing. ever. even more entertaining. He is trying SO hard to find the letters, that he's getting new ones every week.<br />
<br />
He is snuggly and wants all bumps and bruises kissed by Mommy's magical kisses, and loves to give hugs and snuggle into my lap while we read stories. And when I come home after work he runs to me and says "Mommy!" and I scoop him up with kisses and it is the best moment of my day.<br />
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Since I've gone on at quite some length about the wonders of B (yeah, biased), I'll leave you with a photo. He could not be a better, more awesome kid. (And yes, my husband does wear a coat that color. All I can say is, if there's an avalanche in NYC, he'll be found first.)<br />
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<br /></div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-27890797963970697372012-12-20T15:14:00.001-05:002012-12-20T15:14:20.228-05:00Hard times<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This has been a hard month.<br />
<br />
I can't stop thinking about those children and their families from Connecticut. And when I think of them, I cry. Doesn't matter if I am on the bus, at work, putting my precious child to bed -- I cry. Because I could not put the pieces of my life back together if B was taken away from me, and I hate thinking about how these parents have to try to do just that. Maybe because I did lose someone suddenly (my father died suddenly when I was 14), I know too well the true deep grief that one feels when the world changes in an instant. But the loss of a child? That is too much to bear -- it violates the very order of things in the universe. And so I cry for those families, I cry in fear that something could happen to B, and I cry because I have known loss and it never really goes away.<br />
<br />
I've signed every gun control petition that is out on the internet, I've written my congressman and senators, and signed up for the million kids march and I've hugged everyone tightly. So not much more to actually DO. Yet despite my action to try to repair the world, those families still lost children.<br />
<br />
Other scary things in recent past? Let's see -- there was the terrible terrible tragedy of a nanny having a breakdown and stabbing two young children to death in their apartment. 10 blocks from my house, and very much in my community. The mother was out with her middle child at swimming when it happened. Where I take B to swimming. I have a nanny that I love and trust with my child, but this was so, so close to home. It scared everyone I know. It broke my heart and was completely terrifying.<br />
<br />
Then there was the hurricane. In which people we know lost everything they have, others died when trees suddenly fell on them, and two children got pulled out of their mother's arms by rising flood waters and drowned. Also completely terrifying. Because I cannot imagine living as that mother with that loss and guilt and sadness.<br />
<br />
And then most randomly, a mentally ill person pushed a passenger in front of a subway. And he died. I'm afraid of very little in the city, but that actually happens to be my irrational fear, but it turns out to be not so irrational after all. <br />
<br />
People die every day. People die random, unplanned, tragic deaths every day. And every one of those people should be mourned. Yet somehow in my community, in my world, there seems to be just so much that is scary and sad and it makes me question if or how I can protect my family. I guess I can't really keep B in a bubble, with me at all times in our home. But there is just so much sadness and fear.<br />
<br />
This is so damned depressing. But it's been a rough month with a lot of crying. There is just so much sadness these days, I hope that we can all pull together to make things a bit brighter for us and our children.</div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-47846467183425007932012-12-01T14:45:00.001-05:002012-12-01T14:45:13.749-05:00So as it turns out, I'm not dead<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
And nor have I given up on this whole "let's see if we can have a second kid before I am 45" dream.<br />
<br />
It's been a while, so here's a brief summary of where I've been (and where my head has been, which to sum it up, has pretty much been all over the place).<br />
<br />
- Start trying for baby number two in Feb 2012. On second cycle get pregnant with low but normally rising betas. After 7 weeks and a heartbeat, get kicked in the teeth when I develop a SCH and miscarry. Cry. Lots. Feel that this was my one decent shot and that the stupid SCH f*cked it all up. Have no data that actually proves that to be true, but I hold onto that like it is an article of faith. Because I'm positive that way.<br />
<br />
- After D&C and some healing, jump right back in. If I can get pregnant once, I can do it again. And screw you for mucking up my life with a MC. Manage to squeeze in a cycle before we go away for July. Commute by car and train 4 hours for transfer to find that only embryos I've got kinda suck -- 6, 5 and 4 cell. Hoo-f*ing-ray. Enjoy the rest of vacation and then get a call with BFN on the way back home. <br />
<br />
- Try another cycle. Because you know, I'm not going out on crappy embryos like that. Crank out 15 eggs. Exactly zero fertilize with ICSI. They try to do IVM and some do fertilize after that, but none develop. Nothing to transfer. I hit the lowest of the low. Because what I've always believed is that if I am cranking out a fair number of eggs (always more than 10, up to 18), I should actually have *better* odds than my age group would predict. But if nothing f*ing fertilizes because there is something else going on? Well then my statistical chances of having a real live baby are pretty much also zero (which would be, for those of you following, *less* than the statistics at my advanced age.) Rant and rail against the unfairness of it all and realized I probably made some piss poor choices that got me to where I am 42 years old and trying to have a kid. Review my entire adult life and proclaim it a huge mistake and failure, except for the miracle of B. But frankly, he'd be happier with a younger mom and a sibling too. So feel like sh*t. Still do, most days.<br />
<br />
Have long heart to heart with RE. His view is that we need to do some research into what's going on with my eggs and DH's sperm. After a long consult with the andrologist (who was one of the first to use ICSI, so I guess he knows what he is doing, their general belief is that there is something weird happening with maturity of my eggs, and while they appear mature, cytoplasmically, all is not well. So a protocol change is recommended for what may be our very last try. Because if we can't get my eggs to fertilize, then we are done.<br />
<br />
- Try again in October. 18 eggs, 16 mature, 11 fertilize. I breathe a huge sigh of relief that we have figured out how to get my fertilization rates higher (pretty much anything above 0% would be good, but now I am right up by the ICSI averages for the first time ever). Transfer 4 good looking embryos (8,7,7,7) and feel completely confident that we have figured out the problem and the cycle will work. Except it doesn't. Because despite knowing full well that the likelihood of a chromosomally normal embryo is pretty low, I still thought that I would get pregnant on this cycle. Amazing how irrational hope is. Don't even bother crying any more. Just angry. Pretty much all the time. Except at B.<br />
<br />
- Try again in November (yeah, why take a break when I am careening into another birthday?). 10 eggs only 6 mature, but 5 fertilize. But at 3 days they are only 8, 5, 4, 4 cells (and one at 2 that doesn't even count). Thinking that they maybe triggered me a day too soon this go round, but I had a large discrepancy in follicle size for the first time, so who really knows any more. Transfer was yesterday. Feel pretty much like this is a loss already, since it's pretty unlikely that 5 or 4 celled embryos will become a baby. So just annoyed, and sad, and would very much like a drink. Right now, thanks very much. But instead I will probably eat an organic cheese stick, since that's what's in the house right now and I don't really feel that I should poison these embryos. At least not on the first day of the wait.<br />
<br />
In other news, B is a real delight. He makes jokes, speaks in sentences, and has started singing ALL the time. Nothing better than waking up to the sound of him singing in his crib. Makes the rest of this sh*t completely worthwhile. He had a lovely halloween and we hosted a very nice thanksgiving with our families, and we are now trying to find 8 small presents for the upcoming hanukah marathon. He informed me he wanted a piano. A big piano. In his room. And he wants a french horn. And a tuba. We will see about that.<br />
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Here's a photo, just so that you can feel confident that he is not as crabby as his mother is. This was the afternoon after our first trip to the ER -- he fell over in his stroller (he was standing up, against strict instructions, before I buckled him in, and then tried to jump. Bad idea.) and got a big ol' gash and large lump over his right eye, and then was very sleepy, so we took him in just to be sure he hadn't done too much damage. He was fine, and it was probably good to go to the ER when it wasn't a real crisis. But it did make hard to get a good photo for the holiday card the next day when we went out to the pumpkin patch, as pretty much every shot showed either the gash or his black eye. But aside from the minor crisis detailed above, he is just better than I could hope for.</div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-78903061094378487872012-10-01T12:11:00.003-04:002012-10-01T12:11:56.274-04:00Giving up<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
How do you know when it is time to give up? I may be nearing that time.<br />
<br />
I had my most recent egg retrieval last week (Thursday) and while 13 eggs were retrieved, exactly zero fertilized with ICSI. Actually, let me be more specific. Eight were mature, and none fertilized, and then they attempted to mature and fertilize the other five, and while three did fertilize, none of them made it to a place where they were worth transferring.<br />
<br />
I know I'm old. I get that. But because I always made loads of eggs and have managed to get pregnant twice I always thought that our issue was just age and not anything more complicated than that. And maybe that still is it (I guess really crappy eggs don't fertilize or divide properly, right?). But we are waaay waaay below the norm for fertilization rates for ICSI for women in my age cohort (we've never been above 40% and now we've hit 0%) and so it's clear that something is not working at a molecular level.<br />
<br />
I spoke with my RE before the immature ICSI results were back, and he agrees that it is time to look at a more scientific (vs. clinical) level at what is going on. But I'm not sure that these shrinking odds are worth it.<br />
<br />
I don't know where to go from here. I am heartbroken.</div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-42787132166006712622012-08-27T11:35:00.000-04:002012-08-27T11:35:20.528-04:00How is it possible that my baby is almost 19 months old?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My little tiny 6-pound baby is a big boy. Almost a grown-up, as I see it. Not only is he the size of a 2.5 year old (over 3 feet tall and about 31 lbs, and most impressively wears a size 7 shoe), but we went away on vacation for two weeks and he came back both able to speak in sentences and very interested in playing independently.<br />
<br />
We rented this awesome farmhouse in upstate NY for two weeks -- it was an old house that had been expanded and redone and was both very spacious and comfortable as well as super cozy. And it had central air, which is huge for us city dwellers that live with window units all summer long.<br />
<br />
Best of all, the house was on 200 acres and there were pastures with a herd of cows and a bard with three horses right across the road. And since it was a pretty quiet dirt road, it was very easy to get to them every morning and say "hi cows" "good morning horsies." <br />
<br />
It was a great trip -- we would take a walk in the morning, all eat breakfast together on the porch, and then have some sort of activity for the day -- whether it was driving into the nearby town (30 minutes away) and having lunch and going to the bookstore or going to the park with the lake for swimming, there was usually something new to do. But honestly, there were probably a couple of days where we just hung out in the backyard and Ben played with dirt and sticks (can someone explain to me the whole little boy fascination with sticks?) and threw things into the small stream that ran behind the house. And it was wonderful.<br />
<br />
Maybe because we live in the city and there aren't as many clean places to play like that, I worry that Ben is missing out on a lot of unstructured play that is important to childhood. Because while we are very lucky and live right on Central Park, I just don't get the same wholesome feeling from him playing in park dirt that I did when we were out in the country and the dirt was "clean." So I think that this will be our last summer that we are not away most of the summer -- it's too nice to be outside and to have space and fresh air to restrict it to only two weeks. <br />
<br />
We keep talking about buying a place upstate, but this, like so many other things, hinges upon whether we have another kid. Like so much else, we really don't know what will make the most sense for our family until we know whether we will be three or four.<br />
<br />
But while we are sorting that out, I still am in awe of what a big, grown-up boy I have. Last week he told me "mommy put buckle through loops close it" which basically means I put my belt through the loops and then close the buckle. And every time he hears a plane he looks up and says "I see airplane! See it!" And he has, once or twice, spontaneously said "I love you mommy." And honestly if that he is the only child we ever have, for that alone, he will be enough.<br />
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WIth that, I will leave you with some photos of my big, grown-up boy playing on the farm. It was really wonderful just to sit back and watch him play. Now that he as (mostly) stopped shoving rocks and sticks in his mouth, we can give him a lot more room to roam!</div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-4662213314319818032012-08-24T07:10:00.000-04:002012-08-24T16:10:33.932-04:00It is 630 am and I have an IV -- Updated<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am having a hysteroscopy today. Sitting in pre op with this annoying and kinda painful IV waiting for my surgery at 730. And I'm terrified.<br />
<br />
This is irrational. I have been under anesthesia before. I am being seen by my Very experienced Dr. But I am afraid I am going to die. I have no idea why. And now I am starting to get all teary.<br />
<br />
DH is home with B, and they were both asleep when I left. I am just scared I won't see them again.<br />
<br />
I think it's because this is a new procedure for me and because I am in main hospital with all sorts of other people having ambulatory surgery. So I am with sick people. And that makes me feel sick. And like something is going to go wrong. Which I know is irrational as noted above. But there you are.<br />
<br />
So the hysteroscopy is to make sure that all looks ok after the miscarriage and d&c. You know, since the last cycle failed and if we are going too succeed we want to check out everything that is check out-able<br />
<br />
And maybe I am scared because I know that we are kind of pulling out all the stops for this next cycle and I am afraid it is going to fail.<br />
<br />
I want another child. I miss the baby-mess of B and would like him to have a sibling. And I know that B has filled my heart with such joy and I feel that I have the capacity for more.<br />
<br />
But first I must focus on today and not panicking. Or dying. Man I am a mess today. And my IV hurts. I just want this to be done and to be 25 weeks pregnant. Like I would be if that miscarriage had not happened. <br />
<br />
I need to calm down. Wish me luck.<br />
<br />
Update<br />
I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">clearly </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">am still among the living. </span><br />
I clearly am also somewhat embarrassed about being sort of hysterical this morning. Something about this really got me worked up - couldn't fall asleep last night, was fearful and teary today -- the whole thing was very unusual for me. Usually I head off to retrievals, transfers, etc by myself with no worries. So something else is going on, beside the scary hospital context.<br />
<br />
I sort of remember speaking to the dr after I woke. Apparently there was some scar tissue at the top of my uterus that they removed. And we will get all the path results next week. Hopefully those will be clear. In the meantime, i am monitoring ovulation in advance of a co-culture procedure on/ about the 6th, after which point my period should come and we should be cleared for another round.<br />
<br />
But I think I hit it on the head this morning: I'm worried that the stakes are very high and that I am quickly running out of runway on child number #2. <br />
<br />
More on that later, as child #1 has just discovered I am home and I think we both need a hug. </div>
irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-65860351000572365372012-08-09T11:48:00.002-04:002012-08-09T15:51:20.462-04:00Well that sucked<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I got the results of my cycle this morning as we started homeward from our two week vacation -- negative.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: '.Helvetica NeueUI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px; white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span></span>I'm not that surprised since the embryos all kinda sucked -- 6,5, and 4 cells at three days, when usually mine go to 8, but I am wondering whether this relatively crappy cycle (11 retrieved but only 3 fertilized with icsi) is a sign of things to come and that my fertility has in fact fallen of a cliff.<br />
<br />
Basically, I'm starting to think that this 42 year old is just too old for this bullshit and I should give up, strong desires for a second child notwithstanding.<br />
<br />
I haven't spoken to my dr yet -- we are in the car and have a sleeping baby and only sketchy signal (and so sorry for typos, too). I will try to connect with him tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Anyway sorry for not commenting a lot recently -- I was trying to kind of checkout from this whole thing during the wait. I have been reading the last couple of days, and will re-engage soon.<br />
<br />
Fuck. This pisses me off. I kinda thought that after the last cycle miscarrige shitshow I might catch a break. Apparently my notions of "fairness" are not at play here. <br />
<br /></div>irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-36282327172682936972012-07-13T15:00:00.000-04:002012-07-13T15:01:03.118-04:00Catching a bit of a break<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Wow. Much has gone on in the past month or so, and I have about 3-4 posts worth of stuff bouncing around in my brain, but I guess the big infertility related news is...<br />
... IVF #5 is off and running. (But holy Sh*t. Five? That is waay too many needles.)<br />
<br />
It's actually pretty amazing that this is working out. My d&c was May 29 and the OB/ RE both said my period should come back in 4-6 weeks. My clinic was closed for cycle starts until July 11, so if it came back early, I'd be on bcp's until just before the 11th.. AND, the complicating part about that is we are going away on vacation for two weeks on the 27th. We will be driving distance away, but it would be pretty much impossible to be mid cycle while I was on vacation (especially since my clinic does daily morning monitoring the second week of stims). So if I had not been able to start on the 11th or 12th, we would have just bagged this month and waited to start until August. And I would have been pissed off, since I already resent that I had to delay so much for the pregnancy that wasn't.<br />
<br />
But, despite my fears that I would never get my period again and that this whole miscarriage and d&c sh*tshow had ruined everything, my period arrived at 9pm on July 10. Pretty much exactly perfect timing. Everything looks normal (although thanks to the new Dr. wielding the wand, I was too uncomfortable to really look at the screen. I have much to say about how I'd prefer not to be a training ground for vaginal ultrasounds, but perhaps another time) and there appear to be 10 or so antral follicles. (Back to the training wheels on the ultrasound wand. He had an awfully hard time finding my left ovary, so I thought, what better way to break this uncomfortable tension than with a joke "Oh -- looks like they took it out when they did my d&c in May." That got his attention and perhaps communicated the point that I was not entirely amused with all of the poking.)<br />
<br />
So I am doing it -- tonight is 3rd night of shots and it's just like riding a bike, except with sharp needles and no fancy bell to ring. Actually not like riding a bike at all, except that I remember what to do.<br />
<br />
I'd really really really like this to work. Out of the 4 cycles I have done, I've gotten pregnant 2x. We've put back in a total of 9 embryos over those 4 cycles. It took 5 to get to the one that is probably having a nap right now and another 4 to where there was a visible heartbeat. Not terrible percentages. Not fabulous, but neither is being 42 and trying to have a second child. (Incidentally, can you all tell that I retreat to numbers and meaningless analysis when I am stressed? There are so many statistical errors in how I am thinking, it makes my head spin. Yet somehow I find it comforting.)<br />
<br />
Please please work.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<br /></div>irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-12261805514467190852012-06-07T12:07:00.000-04:002012-06-07T12:07:23.384-04:00Advice from other toddler moms<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Two questions requiring advice, please.<br />
<br />
1) For those of you in the NE, what do you do to make sure your kids are tick free after playing outside? For my in-laws who have the house with the lawn, the solution is just to keep the kid indoors, but that seems absurd.<br />
<br />
2) What have you done/ are you doing about teeth brushing? B has 7 teeth and he uses a toothbrush every day or so, but it's not real "brush for 2 minutes" brushing. Instead, he likes to hold it and chew on it and is not a fan at ALL of mommy brushing his teeth for him. Am I supposed to be doing something else? (And no, I cannot use a finger brush. He bites. Hard.)<br />
<br />
Obviously I am not working very hard today.</div>irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-52271006870772170412012-06-05T15:54:00.001-04:002012-06-05T20:45:18.185-04:00I wish I had something to say<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm still here. <br />
<br />
D&E was fine. Really. Perhaps my assessment of this was made more positive by the large amount of sedating drugs I was given immediately beforehand, but I've had little cramping and limited spotting and it's been over a week, so I think I'm past the most of it.<br />
<br />
Turned out that doctor to whom my RE refers for that procedure actually happened to be my OB, and so it was nice not to have to see a stranger for something so difficult. She was really wonderful and made a difficult procedure as easy as it could be.<br />
<br />
She also told me something that I keep repeating to myself: a healthy pregnancy can be sustained even in the most adverse circumstances. So that my pregnancy ended had nothing to do with me or lifting a heavy baby or not drinking quite enough water or any of the myriad things I feel that I did to screw this up.<br />
<br />
Because we just wanted everything to be done with and to get some closure, we decided not to do genetic testing. I think that if we had found out that the embryo was chromosomally normal, it would have been harder for me, so frankly I'd rather just not know.<br />
<br />
Occasionally, I still think that I am pregnant. Because for a month I was. But I'm not. <br />
<br />
Instead, I'm trying to get a plan in place by which we can squeeze in another cycle in July between some vacations. Since I tend to stim for about 100 days (or 15, whatever), it's mighty tight, and involves about 5 hours of additional train or driving but I'm not really interested in waiting until mid-August.<br />
<br />
So much for this being simple.<br />
<br /></div>irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-12723834265229778202012-05-29T11:19:00.001-04:002012-05-29T11:19:14.900-04:00If I think about other things...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
...then perhaps the fact that I am going in for a d&c this afternoon will be less frightening and sad.<br />
<br />
Instead, I will think about how B is practically a grown up boy, and is such a cute and funny baby. He is talking nonstop now (favorites are Tunnel and Bicycle) and he has started putting two words together -- mostly noun verb ("Mommy back" or my personal favorite "poop change") but every once in a while he pulls out an adjective noun combo ("yellow bucket") and the fact that he is actually able to put words together in a way that is logical and communicates just blows me away.<br />
<br />
He loves LOVES music (which is, for reasons unclear to us, pronounced somewhat like "newcuk") and has expanded his dance moves from the bounce in place to a spinning move and to lifting one foot and then the other. This last requires great concentration and sometimes a death grip on the wall or some other support, but he's getting it done. But mostly, when he wants to dance (which is another thing he asks for all the time, usually at inappropriate times like when we are out in his stroller or getting ready to go to sleep), he wants to be picked up and spun around. That, for B, is the best type of dancing.<br />
<br />
Other new developments? When B is tired at nap time or bedtime, he just says "niy night" and puts his head on my chest. And then looks at me and says "bye bye." Seriously, we have the world's easiest baby. <br />
<br />
So today, when I am feeling pretty scared and pretty sh*tty about this whole m/c debacle, I am trying to remember that we are so so lucky. We are not lucky just because he sleeps and eats well, doesn't really (yet) have temper tantrums and is pretty smiley and fun most of the time, but because he exists and is our baby and loves us and lights up with a smile when he sees us.</div>irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-10162219339000613852012-05-25T19:54:00.001-04:002012-05-29T10:42:57.104-04:00For real, now<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Heartbeat was gone.<br />
<br />
Embryo was measuring just 1mm more than on Monday and 2 weeks behind, so clearly all was not going as it should.
For the first time, I didn't look at the screen, just the ceiling, while I held DH's hand. I didn't need to see. At one point I laughed at something he said and the very sensitive U/S tech asked me to stop as she was trying very hard to find a heartbeat. So I couldn't even pretend it wasn't happening.<br />
<br />
No bleeding and just a small amount of brown spotting since Sunday, so I don't know if the SCH is gone or not, but it really doesn't matter.
My RE was gone for the day by the time this was over, but he's working this weekend so he will likely call so we can discuss next steps. My view? Get it out get it done and move on to a cycle after vacation in early July.<br />
<br />
I have to admit I am relieved. I didn't want to see a lower number still sputtering or a slightly higher one just jerking us around. Aside from a miracle resumption of normal growth and hb, this was the best outcome. But this process has been exhausting. It's been the whole month of May -- the first beta was April 30. I'm ready for it to be over and done and move on.<br />
<br />
But I am still so sad. There was a little flicker of life that was very very wanted and now it's gone.</div>irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-13159320477132845032012-05-22T10:44:00.000-04:002012-05-22T10:44:13.556-04:00I feel like sh*t<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In case you all were thinking that I bounced back from the past two days and am now back to my normal, relatively chipper self, I'm not.<br />
<br />
Talked to my RE yesterday afternoon. His view is, this is very concerning and unlikely to end with a take-home baby, but let's wait and see what happens and go back next week (Tuesday) for another fancy ultrasound with the really unpleasant and not especially gentle with the wand tech. So I'm back to waiting.<br />
<br />
I feel like I am just walking around, going about my business, while this embryo -- this little tiny potential -- is dying. And I cannot do a f*cking thing about it. This is maddening, and terrifying, and sad all at the same time.<br />
<br />
And I am at work and I am terrified that the scary bleeding will start again without any notice, just like it did before.<br />
<br />
And I fear that this was my one statistical shot at pregnancy and I have blown it. That somehow I did something wrong -- picking up B too many times, vacuuming the apartment, walking stairs -- that caused this bleed that is ending the pregnancy.<br />
<br />
And I don't want to have to be cheerful with my 23 week pregnant coworker (remember her? the "I told my family at a positive pee stick and I've got my crib set up at 9 weeks"?) nor do I want to have the conversation with my boss today about how I will have to do her job during her maternity leave.<br />
<br />
I just want to curl up and hide and go back to Sunday at 5pm before the sh*tshow started.<br />
<br />
Remember my post from about 2 weeks ago? The one that laid out the options? This is clearly the worst one. The problem is that each time I made it over another hurdle, I grew more and more comfortable with the idea that this pregnancy would make it. And now, well now it's just gutting me to know it will not, and that we will have to wait until the end of the summer to try again.<br />
<br />
Dear Universe: if you are going to be a d*ck, please do so quickly, instead of dragging it out and really allowing a false sense of hope to accumulate.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132101063238572308.post-33970652030329204372012-05-21T10:30:00.001-04:002012-05-22T09:23:02.763-04:00Gone -- Updated<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Heartbeat is gone.<br />
<br />
I am sad. That's an understatement, as I'm sure you can guess. Just empty, really. Can't really muster crying.
Going in hopefully later today for hi res u/s to confirm what we know. Then will decide what to do.<br />
<br />
Update:
It's worse than we thought. Per the fancy machine at the maternal and fetal medicine office, embryo only measuuring 5w5d but still has cardiac activity -- 71 bpm. So it's not dead but dying. And there is a big subchorionic hematoma there as well.<br />
<br />
This means I'm going to have to do the whole thing over in a few days.<br />
<br />
Fu*k me. This could not be any harder.</div>irrationalexuberancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05772420700972282324noreply@blogger.com26