Thursday, October 29, 2009
I'm sort of in that guilty feeling place. That place where this starts to turn into a whiny pregnant lady's blog. But the truth is, I haven't moved myself mentally into that category yet. I feel I am still in the IF category with pretend symptoms to play with for awhile.
But today, I received the most amazing phone call. It was random, unexpected, and so genuine.
It was Top Doc.
I was startled to hear her voice on the line and not a nurse. Or someone from the billing office. It was the real live her. And she was calling to see how I was. She asked when my perinatologist appointment was and how I was feeling. She said she'd been doing a lot of thinking about our situation and she just wanted to talk to me. Normally, she counsels patients on reducing when there are three. This time, she said she wasn't so sure. The deciding factor could be if the twins were mono amniotic (sharing an amniotic sac). I told her Mr. W and I knew this was a very risky situation and it was too soon to tell. Still, she was optimistic and supportive and asked that I keep her in the loop and forward the perinatologist reports. I said I would and that I appreciated her call and any opinions she wanted to give.
There are great doctors in this world. And then there are those who have a special gift. When Mr. W and I interviewed REs and agonized over choosing the last clinic we chose in a very unconventional manner, for us anyway. Always the thinkers, analysts, and planners, we typically make charts and lists and graphs and power point presentations to make a decision. This time, we stepped back. "We're forcing it," we both said. And instead, we chose with our hearts. And now I know why.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Hello Zo.fran my old friend. Ok, new friend maybe, but I like the song anyway. OB says the barfing has to stop or she will put me in the hospital. Meet you there, MeInsideout? I was going at it every 2 hours. I daren't wander more than a few feet from a toilet or sink. And I started carrying plastic bags around the house. Even the furry ones couldn't figure out why I had more hairballs than they did. And it was a group event. To watch and hear me barf. Seriously. Feline wonderment.
But alas, Dr. OB was all over it and prescribed 8mg Zo.fran up to 3 times daily. And I am joining the ranks of the living again. I am relieved. Tonight is the season NBA opener and I was terrified how I was going to survive running to the restroom in the huge arena (and not making it) during the game. I know....whah, whah, whah. I am whining and I shouldn't. So I'll just leave it at that.
In other news, I did get the H1.N1 vaccine yesterday. I talked with Dr. OB about it first because the only one I could get is the regular with thimerosal. She said thimerosal was not a big deal and that I should still get it. She also said that they didn't have any, didn't know when they would get it, and if they would even get it without thimerosal. I told her Super Doc had been hoarding a dose for me. Dr. OB was like, what does Super Doc think about thimerosal? Well, he thinks it's fine, I said. And she was like...well there you go, I agree. The vaccine with it is better than not getting the vaccine at all. So it was settled.
And then I posted on FB that I got the vaccine. MISTAKE. Because everyone else wanted it and wanted to know how I got it if it wasn't allowed in the general population yet. Ah, shit. Opened my big mouth. Uhm? I'm not general population anymore? (Nope, didn't use that one.) Uh? I have a backstage pass? (Nope, didn't use that one.) How about...ignore? Yeah, that's the one.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
And now for the drum roll, followed by my "holy shit"!
Sac A has a nice little nugget with a heartbeat measuring at 142 bpm.
Sac B has a nice little nugget with a heartbeat measuring 130 bpm and....wait for it.....
a second little nugget with a heartbeat measuring about 125bpm!
And now....HOLY SHIT! It's triplets - and a very unique situation at that because there is a singleton with a set of identical twins, meaning one of the embryos divided after implantation. We are stunned. And excited. And overwhelmed. Of course this creates a whole new set of issues, concerns, and risks - especially because there are two in the same sac. We are very quickly graduating from our OB to the perinatologist.
I got an email from Top Doc (my RE). Her response? "Wow, I am floored by this news."
Yeah, so are we.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Right now, they are just sacs. My OB appointment was uhm, early. Really early, because they could not fit me in for a new patient consult for a month if I waited. My OB admitted they aren't used to looking at early sacs as she normally sees people for the first time at 9 or so weeks. She also admitted that she sucks with the ultrasound machine this early and that their equipment is not as high-tech as the IF clinics. Sucks to be among commoners again. Ok, not that much.
Disclaimers aside, I went on Monday for what was supposed to be a 2-hour appointment and ended up spending the better part of the day. The OB was great and was all about "mental health" (as she called it). Meaning she would get me back in for another ultrasound sooner, rather than later, to ease my neurotic tendencies and calm my disaster fantasies. And just for the heck of it, she drew another beta for me. Again, just to be sure. Here is the new cool chart! (Beta was 10,125). (Ok, coming soon on the chart thingy.)
The real shocker...and I hesitate to blog about this...is that there is a third sac. It's not visible in this picture, and it appears to be very small or possibly blighted. The OB actually had a radiologist do another ultrasound to verify. (Part of what took so damn long.) In any case, we are operating under the assumption of a vanishing triplet. That is extremely creepy for me to type. And secretly, I've been keeping of all of these juicy details to myself all week because I've had these strange little feelings of guilt. And I've been convinced that they're all going to vanish right before my eyes. I'm certain nuggets have all died at least three times this week. Save for one undeniable symptom. My middle name is BARF. I have never been so happy to be so effing completely miserably sick.
Symptom checker for us internet whores:
Cramping: Mild & getting milder
Weight Gain: lost 2 pounds
Food craving: none
Food aversion: It's all vile. About the only thing I can stomach is Italian sodas, rye crisps, and Laughing.Cow cheese - something I've never eaten before.
And no, none of this has sunk in.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Why don't you just get a surrogate? Because IF does not always equal shitty uterus.
Can you just have a surgery or something to fix your condition? Because IF is always the woman's problem. And a surrogate should fix whatever it is anyway.
Just keep trying IVF until it works. Yeah, because money grows on trees and I'm secretly popping the anti-aging pill Carl Sagan invented.
Why don't you just adopt? Aren't you worried about your child having birth defects if it's that difficult? Oh gosh yeah, because the rate of birth defects in IVF babies doubles. From like .02% to .04%
Just de-stress and relax and everything will happen. The oldest line in the book - and I un-friend these offenders simply for being dumb fucks.
Wouldn't it be great if you had twins? Then you'd be done! Because, I couldn't possibly be 'done' with one, and why in the hell would I ever want more than two?
Maybe God didn't want you to have children. Maybe God never wanted you to open your mouth, but you do.
Aren't you glad you decided not to have children? This one comes from people not in the know. And my standard response is, 'Who said we decided anything?' - a response that is usually met with puzzlement on the face of the offender. It's really a priceless look.
Only to be followed by...(when word gets out)
Oh, you finally decided it was time to have children? I have an answer prepared. It goes something like "no, mother nature finally decided we were worthy."
Monday, October 12, 2009
The other day I was thinking about this blog and about how much it's all about me. (Hey, I'm writing it. It's about my most inner medical workings. Seems fair it's all about me.) But I realized as I stared at Mr. W (without his knowing) that this is his journey too. And that without him I likely wouldn't have been in this mess to start with! Uh-uhm, what I meant to say was, without him, I would not be who I am. And that made me think about sharing the reasons I heart this guy and why he is Mr. Wonderful.
- By nature, Mr. W is a hunter, a gatherer, a fixer, a tinkerer, an inventor, and a survivor. I know we will always have food on the table, a roof over our heads, and shoes to wear, even if we were the last people on earth and everything had to be made from scratch. Of course in our case, if we were the last people on earth...we would be just that!
- His dream job is to be a farmer. He thinks it is the noblest of professions and that there is truth in the land and soil.
Picture of the greenhouse he built all himself from the bottom up last summer. It has power, water, a solar fan, and hydraulic opening windows activated by heat. -
- Mr. W is 5'4" tall. (He is the tallest in his family and has me beat by an inch.) And yet, when he walks into a room, you would think he was over 6 feet. He commands attention, in a good, charismatic way. I have always admired this trait about him and am constantly amazed by his presence in a room full of people.
- He can be very spoiling. During our last 2ww he took me to the spa for a facial (to help pass the time). And when we got the positive beta this gorgeous bouquet of flowers appeared. (Color not intended to imply gender, he pointed out.)
- Membership does have it's privileges, and I'm eternally grateful for his ability to pull strings when needed. Like obtaining the results of beta #2. It became apparent that I was going to have a nervous breakdown when I hadn't received the clinic's call with the results. So Super Doc went into the hospital where I'd had the blood work drawn and looked up the results for me. Top Doc's clinic called 3 hours later (at 5pm). I surely would have been in cardiac arrest if I'd had to wait until then.
- Mr. W has brought me breakfast in bed the past two weekends, while proclaiming his intent to keep me literally 'barefoot and pregnant'. I think I can handle a little chivalry now and then.
- I could not do his job. I don't know how he does it, especially now. He sees patients walk in to the hospital in labor and claim they didn't know they were pregnant. He sees women high on meth or heroin about to give birth. He sees women pregnant with their sixth child from the fourth different dad and without means to feed or clothe them. And yet, every day he comes home, recharges his batteries in the garden, and goes back the next day for more. To me, it seems like the ultimate punishment.
- He is humble and unassuming. He picks flowers out of the garden and puts them on the counters around the office. He takes coffee to the nurses at the hospital. When he works on a Saturday, he orders lunch for his entire staff who's working also. He is most commonly seen in the office wearing shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. He wears a costume to work on Halloween and he dresses up for National Talk Like A Pirate Day (which is in September, in case you were wondering).
- He is anti-establishment, dislikes government and politics, and has no use for organized religion.
I could go on...but essentially, Mr. W dances to the beat of his own drum, and that's what I've grown so fond of. And I have no doubt he would raise inquisitive, free-spirited children, who would only get neroses from their mother.
Monday, October 5, 2009
As I mentioned to Sprog the other day, it's like wearing a scarlet letter(s) and you just think the branding won't/can't go away. I find I am pinching myself regularly. Both in awe and disbelief. And smack dab in the middle of another 2ww for the ultrasound, I still expect the other shoe to drop. Waiting....waiting....waiting for it. I know, so many of us have been there before. Many are still there, as so eloquently posted by Sprog today. Go give it a read.
But alas, I found myself fumbling with the phone today. Calling an OB. A real OB. Top Doc's clinic said I could choose to have the u/s at Dr. OMC's or at my chosen OB's office. And therein was part of the issue. I had not chosen anyone officially yet. (Didn't want to "jinx" it....see, there I go again.) And, didn't want to go back to Dr. OMC, for a variety of reasons, one of which was risking that my stupid-ass insurance company would decide not to pay for it since it was an IF clinic.
Mr. W and I bantered back and forth over the weekend regarding whom we should select. We have 3 friends that are OB's, any one of whom we'd be happy to choose. However, they only deliver at one hospital - the one closest to us and the one Mr. W spends the majority of his time at. On one hand, this is good and convenient. On the other hand, it makes for a real lack of privacy. And on the third hand (if I had three), it's not the hospital I want to deliver at.
So we worked backward...choosing the hospital first (one that's 25 miles away) and then the OB. Feeling like I'd just conquered the universe in making the decision, I fell speechless when the voice on the other end of the phone today asked me what kind of an appointment I needed to schedule.
Voice: What kind of appointment do you need?
Me: Uhm, an ultrasound?
Me: Uhm, (insert life story in 5 seconds) I'm an IVF patient and my RE has requested a 7 week ultrasound.
Voice: [Silence for a second.]
Me: Because I have a pregnancy. (Like it's a disease I just caught instead of the swine.flu.)
Voice: [nicely] Oh, Ok. You need an OB appointment.
Me: Yeah. (OMG, am I really this retarded?)
Voice: Ok, who is your RE?
Me: Top Doc, in Big City. And they've requested a specific date.
Voice: Ok, and are you moving here?
Me: I already live here. I've lived here.
Voice: [fumbling, looking at schedule] OB's schedule is completely booked. We will need to talk with her or her nurse to see if we can fit you in. They are both off today. We'll have to call you back tomorrow.
Me: [shit.] Ok.
Voice: And we'll need all of your records.
Me: From all of the IF? (that's like 4 clinics worth)
Voice: Yeah.....Ok...thanks...we'll call you tomorrow.
I hung up the phone and stared out the window for a minute. It's an incredibly beautiful autumn day. The leaves are just barely starting to change color and there isn't a cloud in the sky. I could be fooled into thinking it was the middle of summer. I could be fooled into thinking this is all a pipe dream. I might have gotten on Sprog's plane off the island, but it hasn't landed yet, and I don't know where in the hell it's going.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
And thank you for the kind comments of support and excitement for our BFP! There were several lurkers out there that commented and it's great to "see" you all.
On another note, I've received some new followers that I've made the decision to block. After reviewing your profiles, if I find you don't have any connection whatsoever to my blog or the topics discussed here, I feel it's in my best interest to block your interaction. I apologize for this, but it's not rated for all audiences. If you have been blocked and would like me to unblock you, please send me a comment explaining why. Comments on my blog must be moderated by me and therefore, I will keep your comment private.
Ok, back to this stuff. I have some other posts I'd like to whip out one of these days, but for now, I'll just skip to the facts. Because it's what you've been waiting to hear, and well, what I waited to hear ALL day yesterday.
Beta #2....... 197! (A triple and a half.) We are beyond thrilled! I was prepared mentally for the worst, but "nugget" has been very busy in there and so I was pretty sure somethin was goin on. And....here's the chart! (Amazing that I figured this out.)
And from the TMI department, here's the symptom list:
Cramping: yes - mild but consistent
Weight Gain: zero
Bloat: yep, in the tummy
Wedding rings: still on!
Food craving: Bacon, fruit, fish (not together!)
Food aversion: none
Sleep: all over the board, with crazy vivid dreams, & 3 pee trips a night. (Fair warning given on the TMI.)
Body Temp: Cold, all the time. Sleeping in long pjs with 3 blankets. Crazy for me!
Wishing all the same for IFOpt, EB, and meKate....