What I've done so far

So I put away the maternity clothes, but I haven't tackled the baby stuff yet.

I called about a support group but it looks like that is going to be a no-go. I wish the grief counselor from the hospital would at least have the courtesy to call me back.

I have done a little job networking this week, but I need to do A LOT more.

My house is slowly but surely getting cleaner.

I've tried a little to seek out support but I haven't really made any progess. None at all. So I'm starting slow. the killer tension headache I've been fighting all week has reminded me of how much tension I carry in my upper body. I realize that when I'm in any situation that makes me uncomfortable, I tense up and close off my body. I'm guessing I look like the most unapporachable person on the planet. My current plan is to just practice relaxing and opening up my posture. It works too. I had several chit-chatty conversations at the park yesterday without feeling like a social leaper. It felt good.

Today I'm going to make my follow-up doctor's appointment. I'll probably also do a little research on our options to prepare for it.

That's all for now.

I should probably point out

that I'm assuming no one is reading this blog. I think that's a fair assumption. I've told no one about it. I haven't attempted to include myself on any blogrolls. I realize that someone could find me by searching, and that's fine. But I'm writing for me. Not for an audience. At least not for an audience that I invited to read my thoughts. So I should probably point out that I'm not using any warning before talking about my daughter. I'm not holding back on bitching about my family and friends. If anyone is offended by what I write, I apologize ahead of time. This blog is for me, and for me alone.

Secondary Infertility

Yesterday I took AJ to a new park. We had driven by it before and it looked like fun and best of all, not crowded. It was even better than I thought. It had a nice playground and down the hill where I couldn't see from the road was a really nice duck pond with pretty fountains. And best of all we were the only people there except one older guy jogging with his dog. Which brings me to my point.

I don't know what it's like to suffer from primary inferility, but I have to imagine that being a secondary infertile is easier in many, many ways. (I'm still a bit uncomfortable with the "infertile" label since getting pregnant is not my problem, but I'll use it because it's easier to say than "secondary recurrent pregnancy loss" and ultimately the issues being faced are very similar)

Every morning when I wake up I see a beautiful smiling face and hear "good morning Mommy." AJ is also really into saying "I love you" lately. That alone makes this horrible journey easier. I don't deal with the pain of not being recognized as a mom. I'm sure people are not acknowledging that I'm a mom to my angels, but at least I'm not being reminded of that fact like women who only have angels. I get to do a bunch of fun mom stuff and I do have a child to carry on my genes. That said, I think there are a few issues that those of us with secondary infertility deal with that primary infertiles can probably avoid, or a least don't have to face on a daily basis.

Which brings me back to why I was looking for a new park. I'm a SAHM right now and everyday AJ and I go places like parks, the zoo, or the pool. And everyday I'm faced with a million reminders of what I don't have. I see moms with a bunch of kids, big pregnant bellies, and the worst for me, moms with a toddler and a new baby. My inner green-eyed monster rears it's head. That should be me I want to shout. But to who??? Fortunately AJ is still young enough that I rarely get asked the worst question anybody could ask me. The dreaded "are you going to have more?" Innocent enough that if I dissolve in tears, I'm the rude one. I know it won't be long before I'm getting this one frequently. I told my husband that I need to go back to work because I can't deal with it all anymore. But at least for now we have our newly found park.

I want to add that with secondary infertility, you know full well what you're missing. Being pregnant, giving birth, and taking care of newborn AJ were the happiest times in my whole life. I would give my right arm, my left leg, anything at all to experience it again.

My heart goes out to all women suffering through this pain, whether they have a child, children, or none yet. I think worrying about who has it worse is devisive and silly and that is certainly not my point in this post. I hope that's clear.

I need to let this out

No one has called me to check on me since the D&C except W (who does call now and then from work). I don't understand. I would think people would be worried about me. My mom hasn't even called since Wed. night. Do they not care? Or are they afraid of me? Maybe they think I don't want to talk. Even so they could just call and see if I need anything. This is the worst and most isolating experience of my entire life. I may not want to pour my soul out to everyone I see but I just wish someone would show me that they give a shit.

Let me add that my MIL actually forgot (between Wednesday and Sunday) that I even had another m/c. WTF? I may elaborate on that later but right now I need to get out of this house.

What I'm going to do differently this time

This time I'm going to take a more active role in my healing. After the first two losses I was pretty passive about healing and taking care of myself and as a result I think I've been stuck in a negative place for most of the last year. I need to do better this time. Whether we're going to try again or move to adoption, I need to get myself to a better place emotionally.

One of the things I've done over the last year is isolate myself from most of my friends and even my family. I feel like I can't deal with people so I hide from them. And while I still feel like no one I know (except on the internet) understands at all what I'm going through, I still need a support network. So I'm going to work on this. First though I need to figure what I'm going to do to speak up for myself or protect myself from the hurtful things people say. I realize they are not trying to be hurtful. People mean well. But I'm in too fragile a place to just let things role off my back.

I also found a pamplet about a loss support group in my hospital discharge papers. I don't know whether there is really a support group for m/c/infant loss, but I'm going to call and find out. I would really prefer a support group to a counselor, but if I can't find one I may give therapy another try.

I also need to find a job. There are so many reasons I don't want to do this, but I need to. I want to be a SAHM. I don't want to deal with this horrible job market. But our finances are not great right now and it's a huge source of stress, especially for W. We have way too much debt and we aren't making any forward progess with only one income. If I can't find something soon we might even need to move. I don't need to make a fortune, but we need a little more coming in.

I want to finish working on a shelf in my house dedicated to my angels.

I want to get my house reorganized and keep it that way. It's hard to relax and heal in a big mess. Plus it boosts my self-esteem when I'm taking care of things better. Not to mention if we need to sell, it will make the process less stressful.

I'm putting away all the maternity clothes that have been sitting in my closet since I lost my first angel. I thought for sure I would need them again soon so I left them out. It's time for them to go away. I'm also going to give a lot of our baby stuff to my SIL who is due next month. I'll keep the clothes and a few other things that I can keep hidden out of sight. The rest has got to go. I like the idea of giving it all to her instead of charity, because this way I know I can get everything back. I'm not ready to part with it all for good. I may get to that place, but I'm not there yet.

I'm also going to research our options as much as possible. I'm going to my doctor's appointment in two weeks armed with questions and if he can't answer them, I'm going to ask for a referral. I'm also going to research our adoption options so when we're ready we can jump right in.

The last thing I'm working on is finding a church for our family. I've been wanting to do this for a while now, but W is a bit resistant. Neither one of us is terribly religious but I think it would help me a lot to get in touch with my spiritual side. I also think becoming a part of a supportive community would be wonderful right now. Plus it would be beneficial for AJ as well. Not to mention it will open up more options for us with adoption because many agencies are Christian. Now I just have to convince W.

Coffee and other sacrifices

As I was enjoying my morning coffee today for the first time all summer, I started thinking of all the things I have done in the past year to try to get and stay pregnant.

It kind of feels like a cruel joke. I haven't had coffee since I began my Clomid cycle. Now I didn't cut caffiene completely, but I switched to tea which is not the same thing. I haven't had a drink since I ovulated. Since my first m/c I have religiously taken numerous vitimins, started pre-natal yoga, vastly improved my eating habits, drank 8 glasses of water (almost) every day, and any number of other things that are supposed to help with fertility. I used pre-seed and OPKs and these awful little cup things which I will spare you the details about. And when I think about all the things I did and all the things I gave up, honestly, I feel stupid. I really believed those things would help me, and they haven't. But they have served as a daily reminder of my inability to achieve the one thing I want above all others.

With my first (successful) pregnancy, all I did was take folic acid, eat a little more fruit and cut back on the coffee once I got my BFP. I wonder if we try again if I will be able to just relax and live normally. Despite feeling stupid, part of me still feels like I need those things. It's crazy what infertility does to the mind. I swear I used to be a sane person.

So what now?

I knew that if this last pregnancy failed, it would be significant. Both in my mind and in the medical world, 3 is the magic number when it comes to miscarriages. My chances of a successful pregnancy have dropped from nearly normal after the second loss to 60% now. That doesn't sound so bad until you look at the other side. I have a 40% chance of miscarrying all of my future pregnancies. Now my odds may be slightly better because I have had a successful pregnancy, but they still aren't good. It's a pretty damn scary thing to face. But we still have a chance. A better than 50% chance. And in fertility terms, I'm a spring chicken. I'm only 30, so theoretically we could keep at this for more than 10 more years. But at what cost?

So what now? Do we go ahead and roll the dice? Do we do a bunch of testing to find out what's wrong? According to my doctor 3 is also the magic number when it comes to insurance coverage for testing, so at least that may be an option for us. But the problem is, we know our first loss was because of a trisomy and my doctor suspects the other two losses are due to chromosomal problems as well. If the pathology report for this baby comes back abnormal, the only logical test is gene karyotyping of W and I. If it shows one of us as being abnormal, there is not much we can do. The only treatment is IVF with genetic diagnosis. There is no way on earth we can afford that, and we have no insurance coverage. So really all they can tell us is that we can continue to roll the dice. We know it's not impossible for us to have a healthy baby. So I wonder if the test is really worth it.

We'll know more at my follow-up appointment in a few weeks. I am really hoping that the baby was normal. Not because I'll be glad to have lost a normal baby, of course. But because it would confirm my suspicions that something went wrong with me after the first m/c. Maybe it's even something fixable. But blighted ovums are usually caused by abnormalities, so I doubt this will be the case. Which puts us back at rolling the dice.

So maybe we should just move on. That's where I was a few days ago. No question in my mind that we were done. At least for a few years. Maybe down the road we could do the testing and even possible afford IVF, but in the mean time focus on other things and begin pursuing adoption. But now that some time has passed, I'm not so sure about this anymore.

W and I have always been open to the idea of adoption. In fact we've always been certain we would do it at some point, even long before these troubles started. But we also want more biological kids. That's why we've been at this for the last year. I came home from the doctor's office so determined to move on, I printed off the initial paperwork for adopting through our state's Children's Division. It's sitting on my desk all filled out, only needing a family picture to be complete. But I'm not ready to take that picture. Or to send it out. I'm not sure if I'm really done.

The idea of going back on Clomid when my period returns is so appealling, I can't deny it. Instead of a spring baby, maybe I could have a summer baby. There's barely a difference. But I know from everything that's happened that this is dangerous thinking. When it doesn't work out that way, I will suffer even more. I just don't know if I have it in me to roll the dice again.

So I started the Clomid. I remember saying a prayer when I took the first pill. I prayed it would be our answer. I prayed it would work quickly.

And I got pregnant. Honestly, I wasn't optimistic the entire cycle. Even well into the 2ww I didn't suspect it had worked. About 10DPO I felt so tired I took a 3 hour afternoon nap. I wondered but still didn't believe it. I had a few more symptoms appear that evening and the next day repeated my long nap. So at 12DPO I decided to find out. Sure enough it was positive. The first test I took was so faint. But the digital test said positive. At first I was beyond thrilled, but by later that day the fear began to creep in. It was Saturday so I had to wait until Monday to get blood work done. That meant waiting until Tuesday to get an answer.

I prayed. I took more tests to see if they were darker. It was hard to tell but they looked a little darker. I prayed some more. Tuesday brought good news - Beta 66 and Progestrone 63.5. Wow. The Clomid seemed to have worked. The Beta was a little low, but nothing to worry about. It was still early. The next week it had doubled appropriately, and then again the next week. The numbers were on the low side, but the doctor said all was good. He put me on Prometrium (progestrone pills) because my levels, while high, were fluctating.

The fear never really left but I was trying to be hopeful. It was hard because I didn't get sick. With my first two pregnancies I had been quite sick by 6 weeks, but not this time. I knew that wasn't good, but it could still have been normal. I tried to keep my hopes up. I felt like the baby was a boy and that made me really happy. I wanted so badly to get excited, but the fear was always there.

My first ultrasound was scheduled for 6w6d. I was nervous and excited. I knew if there was a little beating heart I would feel much better. I also knew if there wasn't, it was probably over.

I got to the doctor's a few minutes late. W was already there. For the first time ever, my doctor was running behind and we sat and waited for what felt like forever. As the time passed I got a growing feeling of dread. The doctor finally came in. He asked me some questions. I remember thinking, "that's all pointless until we see a baby." He started the ultrasound but my bladder was too full. He saw the sack but said he needed me to go to the bathroom. I saw the sack too and I didn't see anything in it. I knew it was bad and told my husband as I put my pants back on to go to the bathroom. I came back but the doctor had gone to do something else and we had to wait some more. It felt like torture. He finally came back and we got a good look at the empty sack.

The doctor said he could see "what was trying to be a baby." The sack was round and that was a good sign. He told me it wasn't bad news. I almost believed him. Until he sat down and started quizing me about my dates. I knew they weren't off. I was on Clomid. I was charting. I knew when we tried. There was no way we had concieved days later than I thought. I knew that but the doctor and my husband seemed hopeful. I wanted to be, but I knew it was over.

I came back a week later to have it confirmed. It did sort of look like there was something in the sack, but the sack was smaller and weird shaped. There was no heartbeat. It was over. W wasn't there. This was the second time I had gotten this news without him there. But I couldn't be mad. He couldn't get off work again. My saving grace was AJ. I also couldn't find a sitter again so she came with me. I focused on her, got my D&C scheduled and got out of there without a tear. Sometimes I wonder what my OB and his nurse think of me. I have never cried at the news of any of my m/c's, or when I was being treated for them. Is that normal I wonder? I would have to guess that's it's not. Hopefully they don't judge me for it. I just cannot break down in public like that. It's not me.

First post . . .

I'm wondering how I got here. A year ago I was thrilled to be expecting my second child. I was about to finish law school and my second child was due a few months later. So what happened?

I guess I should start from the very begining of the story. My husband, W, and I were married in 2005. In the summer of '06 we decided we were ready to start our family. I was excited and nervous. I didn't tell anyone we were trying. I was worried something wouldn't work out. There wasn't a problem at all and after one month I found out I was expecting. The pregnancy was wonderful and 2 days after my 28th birthday, my beautiful little girl joined our family. She has been such a source of joy to us. I cannot even explain how she's helped us keep going through this dark year. Which leads me to what happened.

W and I were anxious to start trying again after AJ was born. She was such a wonderful baby. But I was still in law school. So we waited until AJ was 16 months old. After 2 months we found out our second baby was on the way. The pregnancy started off completely normal. I had good bloodwork, followed by a good ultrasound, followed by more good bloodwork and another good ultrasound. I was sick and exhausted. I had a totally normal first trimester. I was not worried at all that anything was wrong until a few weeks after the second ultrasound. I had thought I had been feeling the baby move, but it had suddenly stopped. Deep down I knew something was wrong, but I didn't really believe it. Surely it had been gas I was feeling before. Surely everything was fine. I wasn't really freaked out. Just had a feeling of dread somewhere deep down.

I went to my third appointment and it was confirmed. The doctor spent what felt like an eternity looking for the heartbeat with the doppler. I knew he wouldn't find it, but he kept looking. He suggested an ultrasound, not indicating that he thought anything was wrong. The baby must be hiding and an ultrasound will tell me where to look with the doppler, he said. But I knew it wasn't true. I followed him to a room with an ultrasound machine. I didn't want to, but what choice did I have? Sure enough, there was my baby, completely still with no heart beat. He said something (don't really remember what). I asked if he was sure. He measured the baby and it was about 2 weeks behind. I didn't cry. I told the doc that I just knew something was wrong. He said something about women's intuition.

A few days later I was thinking I skipped a few of the stages of grieving. Looking back on it that wasn't exactly true. I was in denial. Not denial that my baby was dead, that was perfectly clear. I was in denial that I had to do anything about it. I couldn't understand why the doc was in such a hurry to schedule the D&C. What difference did it make? He went on about bleeding and infections, and I tried to remember everthing I had to do that week (I was 1/2 through my last semester of law school and had a million things to do). I finally agreed to come in three days later which required me to cancel my Friday morning mediation appointments.

I dont think it started to sink in until the next morning. All the things I had been worried about not missing got skipped anyway and I wondered why I put myself through 3 more days of carrying my dead baby.

Friday morning I woke up early to bright red blood and very irregular contraction-like cramps. I knew what was happing but figured I'd still easily make it to my appointment. W went to drop AJ at daycare and I got ready to go. I was wondering what was taking him so long, when I felt a gush. My water broke and a few minutes later my little boy was born in the bathtub. I didn't know what to do next. I tried to clean myself up and find something to put him in. But I started bleeding heavily. I freaked and tried to call W but he left his phone at home. I called my mom. Really silly because she lived in Maryland. She wasn't home. Thank God, W got home right after that. He took care of the baby, calling my doc and getting me ready to go. I had to use one of AJ's cloth diapers because the bleeding was so heavy.

Some how we made it to the doc's office and he helped detach the placenta without surgery. I was very grateful. He let us bring our little boy back home and sent the placenta off for testing. We would later learn that he had Patau's syndrome (trisomy 13), but we already knew that he was not normal.

Grieving him was slow. At first I didn't even acknowledge that I needed too. Part of that was because I simply couldn't afford to fall apart. I had to finish school, pass the bar, take care of my daughter, hold my family together. I could not stop. I had to keep going. So instead I focused on moving on.

I was convinced that I could get pregnant again quickly and get us back on track. I knew we'd always miss him and feel the hole in our family. But I really believed that we could move on and be normal. Of course this would work, wouldn't it? I had gotten pregnant so quickly before, right?!? Everyone says your more fertile after a m/c, right?!? Not so much for me. And unfortunately I think this expectation made everything so much harder for me in the long run.

The first few months weren't so bad. I wasn't suprised that things seemed a little off at first. But after a few more months I began to wonder. My skin had gotten so bad, my cycles were short and I had days and days spotting before my periods. I had terrible PMS that I had never had before. Everything seemed off. Even though I felt like I was being a bother, I called my doc after the fifth month of this. He was awesome and suggested a progestrone test and possibly Clomid.

So we decided to take a break that next month, do the test and let me get the Bar exam out of the way before we started Clomid or anything else. So much for that. On Valentine's Day we concieved for the third time. I knew by the time I went out of town for the Bar that I was pregnant but I waited until I got back to test. I was a little worried about the stress I was under from the exam, but so excited! Unfortunately I started to suspect things weren't going well when my tests didn't get darker. So I went for bloodwork. Beta 14, Progestrone 4 (had been 27.5 on CD 21). I started bleeding later that day. I was completely crushed. It was so much harder than the first time. I felt like someone had taken all my hope away. But my doc said it was just bad luck again. He thought my cycles would go back to normal now and we'd be fine. I wanted so badly to believe him.

I pulled it together after a week or two and decided to try again. Maybe that was a bad decision, but I couldn't see any other way. Again my cycles were off. They got worse and worse. I tried B vitimins, eating healthy and exercise. But the fourth cycle I started spotting at 8DPO. In complete frustration I called my doc again. He suggested Clomid and I gratefully agreed. We were now looking at a due date one year after our first angel. A whole year off track already. Hard to swallow for a control freak like me.

So I started Clomid and that's what leads me here. But that's for another day.