Treat it like gold

This post is going to be a bit happier, or at least a lot less mopey. I had a bit of a low point last week because all of this just hit me. It has seemed that even when the crap stuff hits us, it seems to just get worse and worse. I was struggling with that last week. Kind of a WTF kinda week, ya know?! Many of you were spot on with your comments and they were extremely encouraging, so thank you.

I'll start with Friday night. Like I said last week, I've been very withdrawn around my friends. Even friends with no kids, because I've felt this feeling of shame because a lot of them knew of our issues. It's silly, I know. So we decided that it was past time that we had a night out. We met up with some very good friends of ours and went out for dinner, then listen to a bit of live music and even ended the evening at a karaoke bar. NO, I did not sing. I was DD, but still enjoyed a cocktail or two earlier in the evening. We had a great time and while, yes, as I always fear, I was asked about our treatments and how things were going...but she was very sweet.  Here's a funny pic of T & I sharing a drink.

Saturday we spent the day cleaning (okay, that part is less fun), went out for lunch and then grilled steaks and watched a movie. Perfect night.

Sunday, we FINALLY got out to play a little golf. This was the first time all year, sad considering the great weather we've had this summer. But with the IVF and then pregnancy/miscarriage, my body hasn't really been up for it. We took it easy and only played nine. I will admit, I'm a little rusty since last summer. Hopefully in the next couple months we can get out and enjoy a little course action a few more times.

So I'll go ahead and admit that T and I are big fans of margaritas. Our blender is on the outs. Well, done is probably a better word. We still had a large credit at Crate & Barrel from our wedding over 2 years ago, so we splurged on an appliance we've talked about wanting for quite awhile. 

This thing is a beast. Incredibly stoked about this new toy and we christened it with fresh raspberry margaritas on Sunday night. I also made potato soup in it last night in preparation for my lazy couch day after the D&C. 

The D&C was crazy early this morning. We had to be there at 5:30 am!! (so please excuse the sleepy eyes)

Everything went well. There was a small amount of tissue that was removed and I am hoping and praying and well, begging that was the extent. We should have the pathology report by the end of the week. We were at the Women's Hospital and they were so kind there. T took this picture and I thought it was beautiful. I hope it's a sign to have just a little more faith...and we will get there.

If not, we will probably have to consider the methotrextate which probably will result in a slew of expletives, feet stomping and screaming because I was told that we would most likely even have to put off the mock cycle and endometrium biopsy for a full 3 months if we go that route. That would mean any kind of donor transfer could be close to 6 months away. This. Would. Suck. 

If anyone hasn't been reading my blog for a long time, I'll give the quick version of my apprehension to having the D&C. When I had my blighted ovum a few years ago, I had a botched D&C. The pathology report came back and there was no pregnancy. So six days later I was being wheeled into an emergency operating room 700 miles from home for a D&C under ultrasound with a pathologist in the room to confirm a pregnancy or they were removing my tube. Not cool. Luckily, it had been in the uterus, but I was of course nervous of scar tissue from having back to backs. Going into donor eggs, that was a concern again. 

I looked my doctor in the eye this morning and told him I know there is a fine line between being to aggressive and not aggressive enough. I asked him to find that line and treat my uterus like gold. 

I am home now and doing well. I have less bleeding than I've had in over 2 weeks (odd, huh?) and only minimal cramping. 

I also have these big, fat babies to keep me company. 

Dexter (yes, he's named after a serial killer)

The baby.

Stella

The princess.

Sidney

The boss.

Time for the healing to begin. Starting now.

Where is the fast forward button for my life?

I've tried so hard to remain positive this week. To keep my head up. To look forward to our next steps. To know that donor eggs is really a great shot for us and hopefully I can put the heartache that my own eggs have caused me, in the past. 

We've been looking at donors, and I've been in contact with my nurse at CCRM quite a bit the past week. I may have more news on that process next week...

First, we really have to get through this miscarriage. For whatever reason fate decided to put this pregnancy in my path at this particular time...I may never know. Is it to prove I'm strong enough to handle anything? To be resilient to whatever challenges I face? Is it to make sure I won't break? I'd love to know the answer to those questions. Haven't I proved all of those things these past 2 and a half years? Haven't I already been dealt a pretty shit hand? I've rebounded from everything life has dealt me and I still move forward. 

But at what cost? 

I can barely handle being around my super fertile friends and even family members. Not because I'm angry at them for so easily having what my body can't seem to achieve, though it may seem that way from others point of view. I'm just sad...for me. It's hard for me to really be present in their lives because it hurts so much. This is the only way I can protect my heart...what's left to protect of it anyway. 

I can't have children. That's something that has gone through my mind a lot recently. That simple statement. I can't have a child. 

That doesn't mean I can't have a child through extraordinary means. I certainly HOPE that's not the case. I hope with all that I have left in me that donor eggs is our answer. But this miscarriage has broken just a tiny bit of my soul. I've fully come to terms that my eggs are bad, that apparently at the ripe old age of 36. I've waited too long. 

I often wonder if my friends, family and even my husband see the woman I'm becoming. If they see me in the way that I feel. Bitter and broken. If they do, how can they possibly see me in the same light as they once did? I can't imagine that my husband thinks I'm that fun-loving, always smiling girl that he's spent the last 12 years with. There's not doubt that this has all changed me. On some levels...maybe for good. Maybe I'll appreciate motherhood in ways that women that have not gone through infertility cannot. Maybe I will be a stronger woman because of all this. But what if I don't become a mother?? Then what? Do I just become this empty shell of a person I used to be? Before infertility. 

I'm so sorry for my sorrowful post today. I was so excited a few days ago about what was to come...and maybe still will...but I face a road still marked with challenges. 

My beta went back up to 104 yesterday. I need a D&C. Unfortunately, you can't see anything in my uterus or tubes at this point because my levels never progressed past 110. They don't believe it's ectopic because my pain has subsided substantially since last weekend. He also wants to do a D&C, because he knows that I don't want the dreaded methotrexate unless it's absolutely necessary. That would set me back 3 months...at least. Knowing CCRM...they would make me wait longer. Whatever it is...something is hanging on in my body and producing hCG. I can only hope that this is all that is needed to resolve this. So I can really move forward. My biggest fear is obviously the thought of scar tissue and damage. This will be my third D&C in less than two years.

Right now I just feel this ever present, refusing to leave reminder of what could have been. I feel like fate is laughing at me right now. 

I hope that next week brings a happier post. One that this is all behind me. One that brings new hope and exciting news. I'm hesitant even to say that at this point...I certainly don't want to jinx anything else. 

For now...I'm going to continue on and get through this as I have everything else that infertility has thrown at me and even as tears stream down my face, continue to be "fine". 

Reality sucks

It's been a very long seven days for us. I feel so bad for being MIA for so long after such a grim post. The constant emails, comments and texts I received were so kind and everyone filled me with love. Knowing that I'm not alone. As bad as things my feel and seem...there are so many amazing women with their own struggles and their own stories of loss and infertility challenges that spent a few minutes out of their day sending prayers, thoughts and support.

Last week was a struggle. Emotionally, the loss hit us immediately. We couldn't believe after everything that we'd gone through, that this could end so quickly and harshly. My bleeding got pretty heavy by mid week. When I went in for my hCG level on Monday, it had been 81. So decreasing, slowly, but surely. On Thursday, I thought for sure it would be much lower as much as I was bleeding.

It was not. It was 110. My heart sank. My doctor started talking potential d&c and I needed to postpone my work trip to California this week. Until we know this is resolving...I'm going no where.

Even better...my husband had a weekend trip with his best friends from high school college (that he never sees) planned for 4 months. I couldn't imagine this weekend without him, but wanted him to go. I've never felt such a battle of the head vs. heart before EVER. In the end, I forced him out. Told him there was nothing he could do here...I have more than enough friends that are close if something happens, to go and try and get away from all this, even if it's for a moment.

I spent from Thursday night until Monday morning in bed. (except one lunch and dinner outing) I would walk up, feed the fat cats, grab some water and Cheez-its and back to bed. I watched movie after movie, read a few books and just laid there. It was exactly what I wanted to do this weekend. Nothing.

T arrived home last night and brought pizza and salad, and we had dinner in bed. I'm so glad he's home, but don't regret for a minute making him go. I think it was good for both of us.

My hCG level yesterday was encouraging. It's down to 65 now. I was in a lot of pain over the weekend. Mostly on the right side in my back, so I had been concerned. The bleeding has mostly stopped. My hope is that when I go back later this week, for an ultrasound and more labs...this will be almost over.

It's time to move on. Again.

It was almost perfect

The timing of it all. The fact that we got pregnant at all. But really, none of that makes me feel better.

I got my hopes up. I believed for a nano second that maybe we were going to really have a baby. That it could happen. And that it would be mine. My DNA. My egg.

I was looking forward to donor eggs. I was excited to get started. What would be the point to give me a BFP now...only to take it away so quickly. Why even take me down that road?

These are my questions to the universe today.

I woke up in the middle of the night in the wee hours of Saturday with sharp pains in my uterus. I got up to go to the bathroom and there it was a tiny bit of blood. I knew then that this was over.

I was able to go in for labs yesterday. My hCG was 94. Down from 98 on Wednesday.

Confirmed.

What's been the hardest part is that T was so hopeful. Even with the cramping and spotting (which got heavier yesterday) he didn't want to believe it. He wanted to be positive. There was no way this was happening to us again.

But it has, and we're just hurt right now. And angry. I'm angry. I'm mad that I believed. I'm mad that our donor egg cycle has just been delayed for nothing. I'm mad that a had a biological child dangled in my face only to be snatched away.

Infertility isn't fair. Nothing about it is fair.