Stick-It

Stick-It’s still sticking. Still pregnant. Wow. Can’t believe I just typed that. HcG came back at 14032 on 6/27, so we’ve still got doubling. OB ultrasound was done on 7/3. The thought of it terrified me; the first ultrasound with the last pregnancy was when they knew something wasn’t right. I even went back and, sure enough, because I’m both a packrat and detail-oriented, found my electronic calendar with that pregnancy. My HcG never got above the 2000 range last time. I know the numbers have been sooo much better this time, but the thought of having to see another screen with a baby dot on it and be told after the scan that things aren’t looking good is scary.

Had the u/s. The woman doing it, turns out, worked with my DM (did I mention DM was an OB/GYN nurse for 20+ years?). When she realized that I was DM’s daughter, she took extra time. Crown to rump length was 6.8. Yolk sac was 3.7. What’s so infuriating was the way with the last pregnancy I was told that the yolk sac measurements were abnormal, in a very patronizing way no less. Not a simple scientific explanation, like this time (“3.7 is good. Anything over 5.0 gives us cause for concern.”) Good. Give me facts, numbers, ratios, rates, something I can grasp and research and question.

Then I see the RE, not my regular one, but a very nice one. We’ll call him Dr. RE #2. And a resident who’s in training. Which I really don’t have a problem with. I think it’s great that this chick is going to find out what it’s like for the IFers of the world, and if she wants to stay in our sandbox. Dr. RE#2 is great. He greets me with "You're giving us a bad reputation. Congratulations!", referring, of course, to the fact that, while not one of their 4 IUIs worked, we managed to somehow end up where we are.

Everything is going well. He said I do need to stay on the progesterone suppositories twice a day for another three weeks (ugh!) as my levels were on the lower side. He then pointed out, however, that my progesterone levels have never been on the high side, pregnant or not, according to all the blood work they’ve done on me in the past year.

Another u/s in two weeks. I moved it up a little as we’re going camping next week, so the morning we leave, I get another picture. I’ll keep my emotions in check until then. Oh, and the morning sickness (or all-day sickness in my world) has started with a vengeance. That, combined with the low blood pressure I have with every pregnancy, is kicking my ass!!!

Progesterone

You great white waxy
suppositories
that I have to stick up my hoohaa
twice a day
according to the orders of the RE
who I have not actually spoken with
or even seen
yet
regarding this pregnancy.
Moonfaced,
bloated,
can't tell if it's
morning sickness
or
the progesterone
making me slightly nauseous
but my boobs are sore
so that's a good thing,
right?
Waiting
for the other shoe to drop
the door to slam in my face
again.
But this time is different.
This time,
no matter what,
I'll be okay;
I'd be sad
and mourn the loss of possibilities
yet again,
but I'm in a better place
than the last miscarriage
and better than when we lost Jimmy,
so let what may be
be.

And God Laughed…

As Frank Romano (the dad on "Everybody Loves Raymond") says,

"Holy Crap!"

I can’t believe I’m posting this. On Father’s Day, I peed on a stick, a Home Pregnancy Test stick to be exact. I didn’t have to wait the three minutes – the double lines appeared right away.

HcG on CD32 was 373.

Today’s HcG (CD34) was 911.

We have doubling. More than doubling. I am pregnant. For the fifth time in twelve years…

No signs of bleeding, boobs are a little tender (but they’ve been through two breastfeeders and one engorgement due to my stillborn child’s delivery, so they’re stretched beyond belief).

According to all those lovely due date calculators available on the web, my due date would be Thursday, February 21, 2008. Knowing that my OB/GYN had told me after Jimmy’s death that, if I were to get pregnant again, he would induce me at 38 weeks if everything were okay with the baby (read lungs were mature), as the stress would be too much for either of us. Then I got pregnant with and miscarried Little One, so we never had the chance to find out.

So, if my OB/GYN holds to his word, this child would be induced at 38 weeks. Instead of Thursday, February 21st, I would have a due date of Thursday, February 7th. That was the day we buried Jimmy. My fifth pregnancy and hopefully third live birth would take place four years to the day that I buried my third child.

Because God has a wicked sense of humor.

I just can’t get excited about this pregnancy at this point. I know that sounds horrible, but I can’t. I had finally resolved myself that I wouldn’t have another child, and bam! I know too well what can go wrong. What if I miscarry again? What if there’s something very wrong with this pregnancy? What if it’s a perfectly healthy baby that chokes on its own cord twenty-eight weeks into this pregnancy?

For now, I am living blood test to blood test, waiting for the other shoe to drop, anticipating it, steeling myself for it. I know that these feelings aren’t unusual for the IF bloggers who have finally succeeded in having a successful pregnancy, but I am surprised that I can remain this unemotional, because I’m not, unemotional that is. I’m very emotional. I cry at Hallmark commercials and sad songs and sappy country music videos. So the lack of emotion is just not my norm.

Next bloodwork in a week. Holding on until then.