Archive for January, 2008

Done and Done

Final ultrasound: As expected, no growth, no sign of an embryo or a yolk sac. My doctor says this means that this was an anembryonic pregnancy, a blighted ovum. Meaning that the cells that were meant to develop the placenta grew, but the cells that were meant to develop into the embryo did not. This makes me feel better, because I see it like I’m not losing a baby. It was just a cluster of cells that went awry. Yes, at one point they had the potential to be a baby, but that’s not how it went this time. I got my prescription for Misoprostol, so in the next couple days I will begin the process of ending this pregnancy. They also gave me Darvocet and Ativan this time. As the nurse was writing me the prescriptions, I was thinking, wow, why didn’t I get the pain and brain meds the first time around? I could have really used them that time. This time I’m an old hand at this shit. But hey, I am never one to turn down help of the pharmaceutical kind.

In a couple weeks we’ll have a meeting with the doctor to map out more of a plan, for more tests and treatment. I don’t think we’ll get into actually trying again for several months, but we’ll see.

In other news, I went to see Ryan Adams at Royce Hall at UCLA tonight and it was killer. I *heart* him. My friend Marlene and I (who both went to UCLA lo these many years ago) struck up a conversation with the kid sitting next to us and it turns out that he was born in 1989. My head about exploded. He has never seen Ghostbusters. I didn’t even know what to say to that.

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No Surprise

Had my follow up ultrasound this morning. Although there was growth of the gestational sac, it wasn’t enough, and there was no sign of an embryo or even a yolk sac. A subsequent blood draw showed that my hCG levels did rise, but nowhere near enough. My doctor says he’s 95% sure that it’s no good, but wants me to come in one more time on Wednesday for yet another ultrasound “just to make 100% sure”, which I think is stupid. I guess it’s because there was growth, even if it wasn’t enough, but I told him that I am reluctant to pay $200 for another ultrasound which is just going to tell us what we already knew anyway. He didn’t know that our insurance covers absolutely zip of all of this, so he agreed not to charge me for the ultrasound. Which is nice. I told him that I am happy to pay for everything that I think is necessary, but this one I just don’t. I know it’s done. I’ve known it for a week. So I’ll humor him, go in on Wednesday, and leave with a prescription for Misoprostol.

I’m also totally irked by nurses who don’t read the fucking file in front of them before they call with lab results. Case in point from today: “Hi Miranda, it’s Nurse So-and-So, and your numbers are great! Nice and high - 4600! You’re definitely pregnant!” Um. Thanks. Did you happen to see the results from last week’s test? If you had, I doubt you would be so excited. Call me back when you get a clue.

I’m actually doing okay with it, the fact that I am miscarrying again. I’m sad, but hopeful for the future. There’s nothing I can do to change this situation, so I just have to roll with it. I’m just annoyed at the “wait and see”, “one more ultrasound” crap. My doctor is a very nice man, very sympathetic, but he can’t really know how hard all the waiting and “what ifs” are for me.

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Sanctuary

It occurred to me, last summer as I was wedged into one corner of our living room sofa trying desperately to read the new Harry Potter book by the dim light of the only lamp in the house, that we needed a better place in this house to read a damn book without going blind. I don’t like to read on the couch. To me, the couch is for TV-watching, laptop-browsing, and cocktail-enjoying. I also don’t like to read in bed for any extended length of time. Ten, fifteen minutes tops. Then I fall asleep. But when I wanted to sit down and read a book, there was really no good spot in the house to do it.

And we have this room. This room that, for several years, had been my office/the room with the futon where my parents sleep when they come visit. For a long time I was reluctant to do anything with it, because I figured that it was going to be a baby’s room “one day”, and I didn’t want to get ahead of myself or jinx the baby thing or whatever.

But in the past couple months I thought to myself, that’s stupid. It’s a perfectly good room, and yes, we will have a baby “one day” and then it will be the nursery, but until then, I could turn it into a reading room. A nice, comfy, warm reading room, maybe with a squishy chair and good lighting. I could even use it as a meditation space, because up until now I’ve been meditating on my bedroom floor and invariably end up staring into my closet and thinking about shoes.

So I did it. First I painted the room a lovely pale yellow color. Then, we got some new bookshelves so that, for once, we can have all our books in one place. Next, for Christmas, Hawk gave me a chair. Or, he told me that for Christmas he would buy me whatever chair I wanted. So we went chair shopping and found the perfect one! It’s a super soft reclining armchair and I’m sure that I will be spending hours and hours in it, reading to my heart’s content. And then leaning it back and having a nap. I also got beautiful curtains made. I feel so adult,what with the buying window treatments and all!

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detail of the painting we bought back in December

Especially with the happenings of the past few days, I am really glad that we decided to do this. I need to take care of myself right now, to be gentle with myself, and what better way than curling up with a good book, or closing the door and meditating in the quiet. When I am at home, I feel warm and safe, and my new sanctuary embodies that perfectly.

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This seems familiar…

Had my follow up hCG test this morning. It did go up, from high 400s to high 1500s, but that’s not high enough. I ran in for an ultrasound to make sure that it’s not an ectopic pregnancy, and it’s not. There is a gestational sac in my uterus, but it is tiny, much too small at five and half weeks to be viable.

So it’s basically the same situation as last time. Regular (meaning intrauterine) pregnancy that is just growing too slowly to work out. At least it’s not an ectopic, that is good news. There was a small part of me that was hoping it was, just so we could have it resolved quickly. Instead, they told me to “come back in a week” for another ultrasound but I don’t see the point. Both the doctor and I saw that tiny sac, we both know the hCG is too low. So…what are we waiting for, exactly?

I can give it a week to see if my body rejects the pregnancy naturally, which is what I would prefer, of course. But if, next Monday, that sac is still firmly in place, I guess I will have to decide between using the Misoprostol again or having a D&C. I don’t know right now which I would pick. The Misoprostol is less creepy and it seemed to work pretty well last time, but it seems to me that a D&C would be more of a guarantee of quick resolution. But it also means general anesthesia and sharp things in my uterus, which is just icky.

I just really really really want this to be over as quickly as possible. Last time was such torture - weeks and weeks of waiting and watching and hoping and being disappointed and needles needles needles.

*Sigh*. I guess I just have to take it as it comes, I don’t really have a choice.

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Again

Wow, I had really hoped that I would never have to write another post like this one.

This week I had a whirlwind 24 hours in which I found myself surprisingly pregnant one evening, and then had a blood test the next morning which let us know that the pregnancy is not viable.

The pregnancy was a surprise - we haven’t even been trying. Also, I had my period last week, so I really had no idea this was coming. But my breasts were sore, even after my period was over, and Hawk even told me, “Your boobs are really big right now”. That’s when I got suspicious and took another test, this one positive. As I stood there watching that second pink line develop, I said, out loud to the Universe (I suppose), “shut the fuck up”.

I told myself not to get too excited, since the fact that I had just finished my period was not a good indicator that this pregnancy was a healthy one. Plus, the cycle that had just ended had been an unusually long one, long enough that I had already taken several pregnancy tests before my period started, and all of them had turned up negative. So this really didn’t seem to be off to a good start.

But I am hope’s bitch, so of course I did get a little excited. Hawk and I went out to dinner that night and alternated a hundred times between “okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves” to “I guess we won’t be taking that trip to Paris in the fall!” and “That house on the corner is for rent, we should tell your parents and see if they’re interested”. I barely slept that night, waiting for the next morning when I could call my doctor and go in for a blood test.

And test we did. And my hCG was something around 470, which isn’t remotely high enough. For being approximately five weeks along, it should have been about three times that number. But the nurse told me that until we can do a second test on Monday and confirm that the pregnancy is a loss, they want me to take progesterone supplements and treat it as though it is a normal pregnancy. I thought about it for approximately two seconds and was like, fuck it. I know that number wasn’t high enough. I’d had my period. I do not want to prolong the inevitable. This one just isn’t meant to be, I’m sure of it. I’ve started some light bleeding, and had some pretty bad cramping the past couple days, so I think my body is starting to reject it. The mindfuck is that this time around I actually feel pregnant. With my first, I never felt a thing - no sore boobs, nothing. This time my breasts are killing me, my nipples are tender, and I’m exhausted. I slept nearly all day Friday.

When I got the phone call with the blood test results, I did have a few hours of tears. The abrupt crushing end of hope can do that. There was the disappointment, and also I couldn’t believe that I was going to have another miscarriage, that I would have to go through all that anguish again.

Really though this loss is completely different than my first. I’m sad, of course, but am finding myself surprisingly okay. In this case, we weren’t trying trying trying for a year and a half only to be disappointed, not to mention put through three weeks of “maybe it’s okay, maybe it’s not” hell. This time, within about twenty hours from the time I took the test, we knew that things weren’t going to work out. I didn’t have time to get invested, attached.

The really weird thing is that this whole thing is making me more confident that I will one day have a baby. I know it should be the other way around, and for a little while it was. I told Hawk that maybe this isn’t meant for us, that maybe I won’t be able to sustain a pregnancy. But I don’t really believe that. It’s good to know that the first time I got pregnant wasn’t a fluke. That means that when we’re ready to try again with my doctor, I’ll bet it will work. It’s just a matter of finding a good egg and supporting it from the beginning to get it to stick. Does that make sense?

I just hope for a quick resolution to all this. I’ll have the second blood test tomorrow which will give us a better idea of how we proceed from here. I’m hoping to confirm that it’s not an ectopic pregnancy and I really hope that my body will just take over and know what to do. I also hope that it doesn’t take three bloody months for my hCG to go down this time, but I doubt it will.

It’s amazing how much the lessons I learned from my first miscarriage have helped me with this one. From the second that pink line appeared, I could tell myself, Whatever happens, you will be okay. I didn’t become instantaneously petrified of miscarrying, like I did the first time. I got through our first loss, I will get through this one. I have a happy life and people who love me. I am okay.

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Down to the River…

Currently totally obsessed with the soundtrack to O Brother Where Art Thou. If you’ve been reading this blog for awhile, you know that I am not a religious person, nor do I actually believe in god, but damn do I love me some gospel music. Alison Krauss singing “Down to the River to Pray” ABSOLUTELY KILLS ME.

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A Very Blustery Night

The rain, rain, rain came down, down, down
In rushing, rising riv’lets,
’til the river crept out of it’s bed
And crept right into Piglet’s!
Poor Piglet, he was frightened,
With quite a rightful fright.
And so, in desperation
A message he did write.
He placed it in a bottle
And it floated out of sight.

And the rain, rain, rain came down, down, down
So Piglet started bailing.
He was unaware, atop his chair,
While bailing he was sailing!

And the rain, rain, rain came down, down, down
And the flood rose up, up, upper.
Pooh, too, was caught and so he thought,
“I must rescue my supper!”
Ten honey pots he rescued,
Enough to see him through,
But as he sopped up his supper,
The river sopped up Pooh!
And the water twirled and tossed him
In a honey pot canoe!

Our back yard is flooded. Hooray!

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