This is Grey. Thanks again for your support through our journey. You truly provide sunshine. I hope we reflect this back to you.
My feelings right now are a collision of contradictions. I'm so happy deep down, yet angry and anxious. Our current situation has me feeling like a most precious tree is blooming after a long winter after losing so many others and all I can see is the trouble around it. I want to protect it. I want to protect them, mother and children. I see our recession and crime (arson, armed robbery and worse) tattered neighborhood, careless, cell-phone using or texting drivers (as a bike commuter myself, even more so, saw someone eating a bowl of cereal with milk once too, between their knees driving downhill, no kidding). I want our children so dearly, I'm happy, but I'm angry at the world too. Why was this so hard? Why is the world so filthy, incompetent and careless when there are babies? Especially THESE babies! I know the data says one now, but we continue to believe in the other.
I don't want to feel like this. The anger is new. It is different than the depression of the last several months (years). It's more alive, but destructive. I think of Sugar Beat and it resets. Clarity sets in. We've had good news. I love you in there. I would do anything I could to help you from out here. I think of my nephews and nieces and what they mean to me and what they have taught me. I remember I need to stay warm in my heart or there is no point to being a parent. I need to stay good for you.
Fetal heartbeats. Something every IFer and RPLer waits for with baited breath following a BFP. Despite 3 yrs on this journey and 2 previous pregnancies, Grey and I have never seen a heartbeat. That magical moment that so many people gush over has been completely foreign to us. So when we were told to schedule an ultrasound for 6w3d, we didn't think much about it. Even as the date drew closer, we focused on distraction and burying ourselves in work.
Last night the reality of the following day hit us like a ton of bricks. Neither of us slept well, making for an interesting day in general (thankfully, I managed to not pass out in lecture, despite the repeated attempts).
By the time I picked Grey up to head to the clinic this afternoon, despite feeling like I was about to lose my lunch, I was a wreak. All the "what ifs" and worse case scenarios were playing through my head. Somehow we managed to not only get to the clinic, but park without me losing it. And then it was up 10 floors to the all familiar waiting room, the whole time me bracing myself for bad news.
Only this time, there was no bad news. Instead there is a mixture of good and "hmm" news.
The good news: We have a heartbeat. A strong heartbeat at 113 bpm with the embryo measuring at 7.4 mm. I honestly thought that after all these years Grey and I would tear up when we saw this. Instead we could only stare at the tiny flicker that appeared on the screen.
The "hmm" news: There appears to be a second sac. The ultrasound tech zoomed in and out, focusing on different levels, but couldn't get any more information than the fact that there may be something else there. Initially our IVF coordinator/nurse told us that it was likely a vanishing twin and told us to schedule a second ultrasound for 2 weeks from now. Then we ran into Dr. Smile on our way out and she told us she wants us to come back next week for a follow up.
Needless to say, both Grey and I know that we're both suppose to be elated, but I think we're in shock. After the appointment, we went to a local coffee shop to process. After a disjointed and absentminded game of checkers, we both realized how out of practice we were with getting good news. Hopefully sleep will remedy.
On a good note, Grey has decided on a name for our embryo: Sugar Beat. His reasoning is that it has both a heartbeat and is sweet. That and the fact that he recently was introduced to the classic song from Seasame Street.
It's no secret that next Sunday, Feb 3rd, is Super Bowl Sunday. And depending what part of the US you reside in, this day will be received with the same amount of fanfare as any of the other major holidays (in some cases, more).
I don't have anything against the Super Bowl or the NFL. I spent some of my formative years in football country, where the high school quarterback was considered a local hero, we were required to learn the high school fight school in music class in 4th grade and junior high gym class mandated a full quarter of playing football so that we could all learn the principles of the game. Hence football should be in my blood, but to the disappointment of so many around me, I really would prefer spending Football Sundays outside, curled up with a good book, or even watching a matinee.
So you can only imagine my excitement when I learned of an alternative activity for Super Bowl Sunday. Last night I was curled up with my latest copy of the New Yorker, when I came upon a brief article titled "Dept. of Cute: Puppies!" Immediately I began reading aloud to Grey, causing him to put down his book and flip open his laptop to investigate. Upon watching the 20 second clip of Marta, we were sold. Seriously, how the hell have we not heard of this!?!?
Next Sunday, while millions of Americans pack the bars or open there homes to watch grown human men strut around in Spandex and toss around a pigs-skin, Grey and I have a date with a bowl of popcorn, some beer/ ginger beer and streaming Animal Planet. In the meantime, Grey has hidden the checkbook and I am forbidden from driving within 20 miles of an animal shelter/rescue organization. Instead, I'm practicing my "OMG he/she is SOOO cute" face.
I've been dreading this post. Holding off for about as long as I could. Partly because I know how annoying it can be to still be in the trenches and to see posts like this. Partly because I know that there really isn't anything to be done.
Following our betas, Grey and I have entered the infamous 2 week wait between the BFP and first ultrasound. For the past three years, I've read countless stories of women tearing their hair out from anxiety and worry. I won't go into specifics (mainly because it's cruel to judge anyone for their behavior while in a stress-induced state), but needless to say, the theme of this period being a nerve-wreaking one always comes across loud and clear.
Grey and I have another level of anxiety to add as we have never made it past 5 weeks. With my first pregnancy, the second beta launched us into the dreaded beta rollercoaster, ending with an ultrasound that revealed a too-small sac and then a D&C. With my second pregnancy, despite the betas climbing, I had massive amounts of cramping and bleeding that ultimate lead to a completed miscarriage. The memory of blood following a BFP is still very clear to both of us.
I've been nervous. Despite the fact that there's been zero bleeding, I've gained a sense of smell that rivals that of a bloodhound and that I can't stay awake past 8 pm, it's hard not to worry during this time.
I spoke with Dee about this during our last meeting. Granted, she thought I was handling things incredibly well, viewing me as being the calmest I've ever been despite my protest that it was simply the calm before the storm. After talking about ways to maintain balanced thinking and visualization, she ended by suggesting a last ditch effort in moments that I felt completely overwhelmed: denial.
Denial is a coping mechanism that is truly a double-edge sword. Everyone experiences denial at some point. For me, denial usually sets in following news of loss or crisis, allowing me to work through the shock. Usually this is temporary, with me moving rapidly into the other stages of grief, either anger or depression. But that's the thing; I'm not use to using denial as a tool for to get through anxiety. Blame it on my chronic melancholy state, but not tackling things head on is foreign.
So, this week has been one where I've been practicing. In general, I've been able to focus more on visualization or balanced thinking. But in the moments where I'm hit with a wave of anxiety and can't drop everything to meditate, I've been putting myself into a state of denial. Denial that there ever was a BFP, denial that the betas existed, denial that anything out of the ordinary is going on. Luckily, with classes starting this week and the final fellowship application due, I've had some help.
This week, we tackle a very difficult topic: how to preserve one's marriage/relationship while dealing with infertility and loss. Our special guest this week is a woman who's become an authority on the issue, CDG. Her story is a powerful one and how she has handled suffering divorce and infertility and loss is truly inspirational. Go listen.
On a personal note, I've talked extensively about counseling, both individually and as a couple. I've talked about it openly because I know how taboo all of this is. Too often, when someone suggests counseling, the individual or couple will see this as an attack. The truth is, I didn't realize I needed counseling until I was so far down the rabbit hole. Dee and I spent so much time working on getting me to a calmer, more positive state that it's only been recent that we've been able to dive into the underlying issues and being repairing things.
But the other truth is that neither Grey nor I thought we needed counseling until we were in the middle of it. Initially we figured we would pursue it to help us get over the last loss and to help us prepare for adoption. It wasn't until we were recovering that we were both able to look back and realize how much we needed help. Because before then, we were in survival mode. David has literally opened lines of communication that I never knew existed, resulting in a deeper and more intimate understanding of my partner and my relationship. Something that I never would have found as I didn't know where to start looking on my own.
The reality is, infertility and loss are traumas. And like any trauma, we need help to recover and heal. There is no shame in seeking help to do this (frankly, I believe it takes a lot of courage and strength). And it's important. Too often, I've watched bloggers describe how their relationships are dissolving; how they and their partners are becoming roommates. And then literally a sentence later they'll write about how they assume everything will be better once the baby is born or they become pregnant. Such a red-flag and my heart breaks for them because I know how much more difficult life becomes with a newborn. And if you're not okay prior to the baby arriving, it's very likely your relationship won't survive.
The truth is, no one embarks on marriage with the idea that they will divorce. But, like any relationship, marriage requires work. And infertility and loss are traumas that turn relationships upside down and inside out. Surviving it requires more than assuming the status quo; it requires opening the lines of communication and actually addressing what's broken. It's hard work for sure, but the benefits are ultimately amazing, as you may find that your relationship actually becomes stronger and more resilient. That instead of fighting this battle alone, you are fighting as a team.
Empathy. A word so many of us know and yet many fail to master on the first attempt. To be empathetic means you have to practice, being mindful of those around you and learning how to read body language and gestures. We're not naturally wired to be empathetic. Part of this has to do with survival and maintaining one's own sanity. Another part is that being empathetic means you have to take risks and open yourself up to be hurt or attacked. It's a hard thing to do, but something I believe is ultimately rewarding on so many levels. Empathy allows us to form relationships, to strengthen bonds. Empathy allows us to resolve arguments, seeing a situation from the other party's point of view and working towards a resolution. And, ultimately, I believe that empathy is important for our own happiness.
The past week has been one where I've been observing the world around me. This has to do with the fact that I refuse to analyze (= freak out) about symptoms or lack there of. But it also has to do with a number of posts from other bloggers and conversations with women from this community. Keiko's recent post left me with a heavy heart. The fact that she is struggling because she has fears with this pregnancy but is feeling like she has to separate her hard-won pregnancy from her experience with infertility resonated with me on so many levels. Other posts from two NICUmoms were equally hard, as their pain and frustration is so very real, yet something I know I can only barely understand. Conversations with MissConceptions and HRF and a post from Sass have had me reflecting about post partum and thinking about the realities of a newborn (amazing, yet completely overwhelming). And then there's been the posts from those who are still trying to find their path to resolution. From Trisha, Tutti, Toni, and so many others as they unapologetically share their stories, their hopes and their fears. This recent post from Jo really drove home the fact that though infertility and loss are terrible, life-altering and painful things, none of us are cursed nor have we brought this upon ourselves. And then there's been the ongoing conversations with Mo.
A big part of me reading and reflecting on all of these posts and conversations has to do with how important all of these women (and so many more in this community) have become in my life. Yes, infertility brought me to finding them, but the connection I now feel is more than just infertility and loss. When they hurt, I hurt. When they're scared, I'm worried about them as well as holding my breath for reassuring/good news. And when they are attacked, I'm ready to take fingers.
But another thing (mainly with bloggers that I don't know well outside of their writing) is that I emphasize with them. With the NICU moms, I have no way to be able to fully understand the frustration, stress and sadness that they are feeling. But I can feel that frustration, stress and sadness in their words. And know that even if I can't fully understand, what they need most from me is not understanding, but someone to reach out and say "I'm sorry."
This past week, the Bitter Infertiles received their first negative comment. I won't go into specifics here (nor will I speak for Shelley or Mo) as this is something we will address and discuss more on the podcast. But I will speak from my end that I viewed the comment as written by someone who was coming from a place of great pain and frustration. That to me, it seemed that she was directing all of her anger about infertility at us because she felt is was the only safe thing to do.
Immediately after reading the comment, I thought of a recent email response Lori had sent me about responding to hatred and one-sidedness. The entire email is a gem and I will be posting what I've learned from Lori soon, but it was this part is filled with so much wisdom.
I say go beyond it to the whys. The people who are hateful and one-sided are stuck and you may never change their minds or their hearts, especially by returning fire. The only way to turn around a hateful person is to walk alongside her, in her shoes, so to speak, and respond to her from a place of empathy. Even then, you may get hatred back. But it wouldn't be about you, but about her. . . . Seek first to understand, then be understood.
As tempting as it is to defend myself and my recent news (and all the pain, blood, depression, anger and bitterness that both Grey and I have experienced to date), I find that instead I'm pausing and reflecting on the author of the comment. Thinking about where she is coming from and what must be happening in her life that she would write this. That maybe her marriage is suffering from all the stress of this journey, in a similar way that mine did. That maybe she feels isolated and unable to talk about what she's living with. That maybe she doesn't see a road to resolution or is stuck regarding what steps to take. That maybe she has been told fertility treatments are the only option and she believes she can't afford them. That maybe there's been so much loss and pain, that she no longer has hope.
And I wonder, if she was given an outlet; an opportunity to share her story in a place where she felt safe, if those things would change.
I'm not naive. I learned long ago with Angie that some people are simply too broken for empathy to work. That they will suck you dry. But Angie is also an extreme case. And even if you get burned in the process, nothing is truly lost for trying to reach out.
I'm learning. Learning to be more empathetic and mindful of those around me. Learning how to be unapologetic (this is the hard part) about sensitive at the same time. And learning that just because someone continues to direct anger at me, that I don't need to attack them, only put distance and defend myself. That is by far the hardest thing.
Brief update, all. Beta #2 = 469. Doubling time of 31.48 hrs. Grey is almost recovered from the shock of all of this (poor guy, this cycle has been hard on him) and we're preparing to get through this next week. After 2 miscarriages, both of which happened during this time, I'm cautious. But I'm still maintaining the attitude that I am doing everything possible to make this work. Balanced thinking; not for the faint of heart.
Back in October, following the APA panel that revealed I probably have Antiphospholipid Syndrome (can't diagnose formally until after 3 miscarriages and all have to be after 8 weeks . . . bastards), Dr. Smile and I talked about me starting Lovenox. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this medication, it's common name is Enoxaparin (commercially known also as Xaparin and Clexane), which is a low molecular weight heparin. The purpose of this is to inhibit the formation of clots and is also believed to help with substaining a pregnancy. Hence Lovenox is commonly prescribed, even to women how have not been diagnosed with APS.
Grey and I weighed the risks of the medication (none to pregnancy, but I am now wearing a medical alert bracelet in cause I get into an accident) and decided that adding this medication made sense.
What I wished someone had warned me about was how painful this injection is.
Let's go back to Dec. 31, 2012. After feeding the cats and changing the Vivelle dots, I prepped my stomach for the Lovenox injection. As this one is subQ, I didn't think anything of it, so I did what I always do with subQ: clean area with alcohol wipe, pinch the skin, insert needle in dart-like motion, and inject.
Immediately, I doubled over in pain. My belly was on fire and the pain had caused my vision to become blurred. After what seemed like an eternity (read 60 secs), I was able to see again. Shaking, I capped and disposed of the needle and sat down on the floor until I could move without shaking. I then spent the next 30 minutes trying to figure out what I had done wrong.
Later that night, I noticed this.
Considering I've NEVER had a bruise that big (which completely freaked Grey out) and because I didn't want Grey to be wrongly accused of beating me, I figured it was time to do some research.
1) Prepare a reward for yourself prior to doing this injection. For me, this is a tall glass of good orange juice (no concentrated stuff).
2) Ice the area. This is especially true for those of you who ice prior to any of your other injections, as you will be inserting the needle slowly.
3) As mentioned in the video, inject slowly. I've actually started singing "Twinkle, twinkle, little star" while I am injecting, as it slows me down. Whatever works, right?
4) Have gauze pad ready and apply light pressure after you have slowly removed the needle. Do not rub in circles, as you will make any bruising much worse.
5) After cleaning up, indulge in your reward (trust me, you've earned it). In general, I found it takes about 60 secs for the burning sensation from the medication to subside. Enough time to drink my juice and think about breakfast.
6) If bruising is still bad, contact your RE. Keep them updated about any problems you are having with the medication.
To date, since slowing down the injections, I only have a series of pin-sizes bruises. Definitely not attractive, but much more easy to manage.
Anyone else on Lovenox? Have you found a way to cut-down the stinging or do you have any tips?
After many blissful years of marriage, my husband Grey and I decided to toss the birth control and take the plunge into parenthood. What we've encountered instead is a diagnosis of unexplained infertility and an inability to stay pregnant. Now, after two losses, a failed FET, a diagnosis of APA syndrome and an early delivery & NICU experience, we are finally parenting our miracle twins. This is our story.
