Being Dramatic = Excellent Service

You would not believe the level of service you get when you call the doctor's office and tell the receptionist, "I am about 5 weeks pregnant and bleeding heavily." Incredible. Frankly I felt like a princess. I'm going to try that line next time I'm at an exclusive restaurant and am told that there is an hour wait for a table.

Really I'm 4 weeks and 6 days but that just doesn't have the same poetic effect.

I was put through to the resident who conferred with the director of the clinic. There's not much that the doctors can do or say at this point other than try to confirm that this isn't an ectopic pregnancy. I'm not in pain so it's unlikely - silver lining du jour! They have me supplementing with additional progesterone bring my vaginal excursions to a total of 4 times daily.
Today the bleeding has slowed down a lot. Don't get me wrong, there's still blood. Just much less. Which means...who knows. So we continue to wait until Wednesday for the OB scan.

Today J admitted that he's jealous when he hears other people are expecting. Major victory. Hetero infertility is so unfair both biologically and emotionally. As a woman, your partner often has the coping skills of a carrot.

Beta #4 - Still Pregnant, Still a Horror Show.

So this is getting really fun! I had my follow up HCG beta this morning and my levels more than doubled. Up to 175. Simultaneously, I am bleeding all over the place. I am surprised that there isn't a trail of blood from my apartment to the clinic to my office. This is my version of bread crumbs. Anyone can find me.

I met with the head IVF nurse this morning before my results came back in. She confirmed things did not look good. Yes, these scenarios sometimes turn out okay with healthy babies but usually not. She agreed this limbo status was worst case scenario. When she called me back later with the results she seemed pretty surpised with the number. They're putting me on an additional progesterone supplement. That's all they can do. I need to schedule an ultrasound scan for Wednesday and hopefully then they can tell me what's going on. That is, if I don't bleed to death by then.

I've thought long and hard and I think the only solution is to hang upside down for the forseeable future.

J is as confused as I am. He was planning on going up to Michigan to with friends this weekend but I asked him to stay here. I rarely pull the wife card but if this doesn't merit it, I don't know what does. I shall not bleed alone.

Film Debut

My upcoming documentary will be titled, If These Underpants Could Talk. Ira Glass is going to narrate it and Yo Yo Ma will perform the soundtrack. It's going to be really special. And gross.

More WTF. The Fat Lady's Warm-Up.

Dear WebMD,

 

What does it mean when your pregnancy tests look like this...

 

 

And your trips to the bathroom more like this...

 

(I exaggerate a bit.)

And your uterus is tied in knots...

 

 

 

Ah yes. That's what I thought.

 

My HCG levels are still going up. I can tell because the lines on the tests are getting progressively darker. Seemingly in direct correlation, my underwear are getting progressively more frightening. So this if fun. Fat Lady, your warm up is kinda fucked up.

Beta #3 - The Snowball

This morning I went back for my 85th HCG beta. The word was if the number went above 50, they'd have me retest on Friday. If not, I'd stop my meds and let it flow... You're welcome for the imagery.
My favorite salsa singing tech drew my blood again today. "Are your levels going well?" "No, they're not." "But they're going up?" "Barely." "Then you have to have faith." Um, no I don't. Why have faith in something impossible? This pregnancy has a snowball's chance in hell. The tech promised that he'd add a little extra HCG to the mix.

I think he did. My HCG came in at 65. This snowball is apparently scrambling to hang in there. I know that my chances are still really bad. Perhaps not quite as bad as I thought they were on Monday but still quite dismal. So now we wait again... continued meds, more bloodwork on Friday.

This is very much like breaking my foot.

I have this feeling similar to when I broke my foot as a teenager. Let me explain. When I was 15, I broke my foot during a dance rehearsal. For months after that, I would watch people leap and jump and was shocked every time they landed safely. If my foot couldn't sustain an impact, how could theirs? Jumping rope looked like a suicidal act. And then eventually, that feeling disappeared. I healed, I walked, I jumped, ran and danced and nothing else happened. My foot has remained unbroken for the ensuing 15 years.
I have to say, this admittedly very fresh experience has made me view pregnancy in the same light. "Excuse me pregnant woman, how did you make that fetus stay in your uterus? Tips? Pointers?" And to the woman pushing a stroller down the street, "I assume you grew that person inside of you for 9 months without it falling out. Exactly how did you manage?" It just seems absolutely impossible. I jumped, I broke my foot. I got pregnant, I lost it immediately.
I know that the vast majority of chemical pregnancies/early miscarriages are caused by chromosomal abnormalities, same as regular later first trimester miscarriages. I really do intellectually understand and accept that. The annoying side of my brain (There's a logical, intellectual side and an annoying side. I googled it.) thinks I should have taken Chinese herbs last week and probably shouldn't use so much Splenda. Again, I get it. It wasn't the Splenda or the gluten. It was the chromosomes, the science, the fact that this bundle of cells wasn't the gestating type.
Honestly, really honestly, that's okay. I'm alright. I am sad. Absolutely sad about how this little hint of joy and excitement turned out. But this is not the same as a miscarriage in the 8th or 10th week or, God forbid, later. I never connected the positive pregnancy test to a person. Instead, I became very enamored of the possibilities. For two days I had a due date. December 8th. A baby before Christmas. Amazing. Even more amazing, this could all be over. The constant ultrasounds and wands up in my piece, belly injections, intimate suppositories, nearly done! So that is why I'm sad. I'm sad to let go of this little glimmer of hope but anxious to move on. I am alright. A little foggy and dazed, not terribly productive and more prone to curling up on the couch. I'm in the process of mending.
HCG beta #3 tomorrow. If it raises above 50, I go in for a 4th beta. I'm still on progesterone, waiting for the clinic to officially call it.

Beta #2 - Fun While it Lasted

It's pretty much over and fun while it lasted. My HCG level did rise but only from 25 to 32.9. It needed to double.
I stay on my meds and go back for more blood work on Wednesday. Prolonging the agony.
I am spotting, too. At first friendly, not so worrisome spotting and now more. Angry, foreshadowing spotting. I wish I didn't have to hang in there for two more days. I want to dive into a bottle of wine and reemerge in a few days.
And I am sad. I was pregnant for 2 whole days.