I’m posting several posts related to our June embryo transfer retroactively. As things were happening, I wasn’t ready to share. I ended up miscarrying on July 2, 2010. I have decided to share this information now that it is all over to educate everyone on what infertility really means, what it’s like to live with and go through. It’s something I never could have imagined ten years ago. It is my hope that someone reading this may be comforted that they are not alone or that others reading this might be able to understand our or others’ situation better. That is my only reason for sharing my feelings so openly, as I know that many of us are unable to be so forthcoming.
Everything has been such a crazy roller coaster for the past several weeks. First, I got a positive pregnancy test. I was truly happy and felt good about it. Also, it was my first time EVER seeing two lines on one of those hated tests that have shown me only one for so long. Then, I went in for my first blood test (beta hCG) and it was positive for pregnancy at 128. Then, the next two tests brought bad news, as they weren’t doubling (178 and then 232). I was very upset and cried my eyes out. I gave up and started to move on. Then, suddenly, the number went up drastically to 660. However, my nurse acted like it was a fluke and told me not to get my hopes up. I didn’t. Then, 3 days later, my numbers went up a lot again, to 2279. Now, they told me this was very encouraging. I did get my hopes up. Then, the very next morning, I started spotting and bleeding. I was heartbroken. Then, 3 days later (yesterday), I went for my ultrasound.
The ultrasound showed everything it should have–a gestational sac, a yolk sac and the most important part– a tiny baby. With a heartbeat! This was at 6 weeks and two days.
It was incredible, truly incredible to see that little heart beating on the screen. For the first time in my life, I knew that I had life inside of me. I have been pregnant before, but the first time, I never knew it until it was over and the second time, no baby ever developed. While it was magical and emotional, it wasn’t joy–well, maybe a moment or two. I shed scared tears for what I have to lose now, as the spotting has not subsided. My doctor is very concerned and says there is not good reason for the bleeding. He told us, “You are threatening to miscarry.” ‘Threatening to miscarry’ is my clinical diagnosis. Those three hated words.
It’s hard for me to explain seeing our baby’s heartbeat for the first time and hearing ‘you are threatening to miscarry’ at the exact same time. It’s just not fair.
I feel robbed of being able to feel happy. I feel sadness that I’m not part of the group of oblivious women that are able to get pregnant easily and once they know they’re pregnant, they’re just pregnant. There are no worries of miscarriage, there is no bad news to accompany every piece of good news. There is just joy, and I am denied that.
This doesn’t mean I have given up hope. On the contrary, if I had given up, I wouldn’t be this scared, I wouldn’t be so emotionally invested. But, whatever is going to happen is going to happen. There’s nothing we can do.
The more I read, the more I realize this and I think it makes it easier for me. I keep reading over and over again that in the first trimester, either a healthy embryo implanted and will survive or an unhealthy embryo implanted and will not survive. Here is a quote from a doctor, “Virtually nothing you do can disrupt a normal pregnancy and, conversely, there is nothing you can do to save an abnormal one.” So, at least I don’t worry that I’m walking too much (around the house), or worry about going to work instead of staying home on the couch, or whatever. Everything was already determined at conception, but is not evident until later. That later is now and the waiting to find out is hell.
The most likely outcome is that we will miscarry and that’s why I’m bleeding, because my body knows something is wrong with the embryo. I have to be prepared for that and I think I am, even though I hate it. However, it is possible that while this is unexplained and not normal, that things will be ok. Numerous women have told me stories where they bled early and things turned out fine. But, my doctor seems to think that’s not as normal or common as people think. But, every time I think about all of the women who turned out fine, hope soars and my mind goes to dangerously happy places. Happy places that can’t even be vocalized for fear that it will jinx me, for fear of letting myself get carried away. Then, I am unprepared for the more likely reality. And, the cycle repeats. Over and over, until I just wish I could get out of my own head. And, people tell me to just relax. I appreciate the sentiment, but it’s just not possible. I do not know one woman who has been able to do that in my situation.
For every time that I get my mind off things, then there’s a trip to the bathroom that brings the situation into full focus or an untimely reminder of the fertility swirling around me in a seemingly endless supply (in real life, on tv, everywhere). Or, a lack of pregnancy symptoms. I think to myself, “I don’t feel sick today, like yesterday, that couldn’t be good.” I do not like feeling sick, but these days, I do indeed because it’s a good sign, it’s normal. So, I actually wish for the sickness just so I can know things are ok in there.
I’m having a rough day this morning. I think I’m feeling angry and I felt like I might be having very mild cramps this morning.
I get to work and there is one piece of mail in my box – a baby announcement. It brought tears to my eyes. Then, I start going through my email and see that someone has ‘favorited’ our photo gallery, so I click on the person’s name to see who they are and their most recent album is their baby’s birth.
It’s days like these that I just want to yell out to the universe, “REALLY?!?!?!” Most of the time, I can take these things, but they seem to appear en masse when I’m feeling particularly bad. So, it’s like a cruel joke. It’s all around me, but since I’m already having a rough day, it just seems to be too much this morning.
And, then, the worst part is that after I feel upset, I feel guilty for feeling that way. I feel weak and silly. That I should be used to this by now and for the most part, I am. So, I end up feeling both sadness and ashamed for letting my feelings get the better of me.