On Sunday I flew out to visit my parents for the first time in a long, long time.
I was really hurt over their lack of a reaction to my miscarriage and avoided them like the plague. It was as if I had told them I found a yummy new ice cream at the grocery store, and then called later to say it had all melted on the way home and I couldn't eat it. In fact, probably worse, becuase I bet my mom would have asked the next week if I had gotten another carton of the ice cream...
It has taken me a long time, but I have gradually moved past this. I am not sure I forgive them, but I have learned one too many times now to not expect much emotional support. This lesson has maybe finally sunk in, and so I was emotionally strong enough to come for a visit.
My family is big on martinis and coffe and exercise, so I was confronted with not really having an option of not telling them I am a little bit pregnant. They would have been suspicious, and I would have felt mean by lying.
They are really excited and happy. And have been really nice and supportive. I am a big baby about some things, as I have mentioned to you all that I feel like this pregnancy is made of fine crystal and might break. They seem ok with this, even though it is so not their style.
My mom's yoga instructor had two miscarriages before her first baby, and is now pregnant again. Mom made a comment about how this woman acts the same way, and in fairly understanding way (for her). That has been nice.
We'll never be a touchy feely, share your emotions kind of family, but its been nice to be home. And nice to be around people who have the worldview that if you get pregnant, you have a baby. But also, very very scary. I so don't want to jinx myself.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
the RE angel
My RE was out of town all last week, which is why I had to see the other guy last Monday who I wasn't entirely keen on.
I got to see my Dr. today, as the nurse made a special appointment for me. I was kind of blown away b/c there was no one else in the clinic, as I think they are mostly just open on that floor for early morning monitoring appointments, and my apt was at 12.30pm.
Of course I got there early, as I'm pathological like that for all of this IF stuff. I got to go in early, and was so excited to see my RE! I just gushed all kinds of thanks and then laid back for the wand treatment. She was wonderful, talked me through all kinds of stuff she could see and what it meant... from the heartbeat of 153 and how they measure it, the crown-rump length of 12mm (twice the size from monday!), to where it had implanted in my uterus (the part she refurbished for me), and also pointed out this white ring that encircles the sac. Apparently when miscarriages are starting, that circle often starts to disintegrate beforehand. I need to look into the biology on this, but she pointed out that mine looks really good. I have never been so relieved in my entire life. I could have cried (but didn't).
She then asked if I had an ob yet, and I said that I technically did but I wanted to change b/c of the bad memories with the miscarriage. She then recommended two people closer to where I live who she thinks are really caring and will do me good. I could have jumped up and down if I still did activities like that (I'm still in the I-might-break-if-I'm-not-careful phase). I've been so loath to search for an ob, as I live in an area where it is kind of hard to get into a practice, and then to know who is good and who isn't.
I couldn't have asked for more today.
Apparently I'm now officially kicked out of the IVF clinic, sent off with a hug and a "please keep in touch!"
I gave her a gift, which I was a little unsure of but am so glad that I did. Just a pretty basket from where I do fieldwork with some fruit from my backyard. Nothing special, but I really felt like I needed to do something for this woman who did this miraculous thing for me.
Even if something goes wrong, I feel so good about the whole IVF process. My RE and her clinic made this whole horrible experience as minimally horrible as it can be, and never made us feel uncomfortable about our ages or life choices. In fact, it was kind of cool that I relatively frequently ran into lesbian couples at workshops and in the waiting room. And when my girlfriend went with me to my uterus surgery, the nurse assumed she was my partner & not just a friend. That's a sign of a pretty non-judgmental place. Amazing.
My father-in-law is home and doing well. Yesterday he was complaining about politics and the ruin of the country (as seems to be a pretty common habit for the elderly), when he proclaimed that it would be a terrible time to start a family. Dh had to text me that one; too funny. His parents don't know, and we won't tell them until things are much much more progressed. They are going to freak out since Dh is rapidly approaching 60...
Dh will likely leave for home tomorrow evening, stay in a hotel on the road and get back on Monday. I'll miss him though, as I head to visit my parents and some other family early tomorrow morning. Very bad timing for our reunion, but this week ended wonderfully on all counts, so we'll survive a couple more weeks until we can hold each other and breathe a big sigh of relief.
Well, I feel good for today, and hopefully for tomorrow and a couple more days. I was rather nauseous this morning and couldn't have been happier. I'm so, so lucky to have been on the very lucky side of bad statistics this time around. Now, I just hope that the good luck stays with us for about 8 more months and finds all of my blog sisters too!!!
love you all! - inB
I got to see my Dr. today, as the nurse made a special appointment for me. I was kind of blown away b/c there was no one else in the clinic, as I think they are mostly just open on that floor for early morning monitoring appointments, and my apt was at 12.30pm.
Of course I got there early, as I'm pathological like that for all of this IF stuff. I got to go in early, and was so excited to see my RE! I just gushed all kinds of thanks and then laid back for the wand treatment. She was wonderful, talked me through all kinds of stuff she could see and what it meant... from the heartbeat of 153 and how they measure it, the crown-rump length of 12mm (twice the size from monday!), to where it had implanted in my uterus (the part she refurbished for me), and also pointed out this white ring that encircles the sac. Apparently when miscarriages are starting, that circle often starts to disintegrate beforehand. I need to look into the biology on this, but she pointed out that mine looks really good. I have never been so relieved in my entire life. I could have cried (but didn't).
She then asked if I had an ob yet, and I said that I technically did but I wanted to change b/c of the bad memories with the miscarriage. She then recommended two people closer to where I live who she thinks are really caring and will do me good. I could have jumped up and down if I still did activities like that (I'm still in the I-might-break-if-I'm-not-careful phase). I've been so loath to search for an ob, as I live in an area where it is kind of hard to get into a practice, and then to know who is good and who isn't.
I couldn't have asked for more today.
Apparently I'm now officially kicked out of the IVF clinic, sent off with a hug and a "please keep in touch!"
I gave her a gift, which I was a little unsure of but am so glad that I did. Just a pretty basket from where I do fieldwork with some fruit from my backyard. Nothing special, but I really felt like I needed to do something for this woman who did this miraculous thing for me.
Even if something goes wrong, I feel so good about the whole IVF process. My RE and her clinic made this whole horrible experience as minimally horrible as it can be, and never made us feel uncomfortable about our ages or life choices. In fact, it was kind of cool that I relatively frequently ran into lesbian couples at workshops and in the waiting room. And when my girlfriend went with me to my uterus surgery, the nurse assumed she was my partner & not just a friend. That's a sign of a pretty non-judgmental place. Amazing.
My father-in-law is home and doing well. Yesterday he was complaining about politics and the ruin of the country (as seems to be a pretty common habit for the elderly), when he proclaimed that it would be a terrible time to start a family. Dh had to text me that one; too funny. His parents don't know, and we won't tell them until things are much much more progressed. They are going to freak out since Dh is rapidly approaching 60...
Dh will likely leave for home tomorrow evening, stay in a hotel on the road and get back on Monday. I'll miss him though, as I head to visit my parents and some other family early tomorrow morning. Very bad timing for our reunion, but this week ended wonderfully on all counts, so we'll survive a couple more weeks until we can hold each other and breathe a big sigh of relief.
Well, I feel good for today, and hopefully for tomorrow and a couple more days. I was rather nauseous this morning and couldn't have been happier. I'm so, so lucky to have been on the very lucky side of bad statistics this time around. Now, I just hope that the good luck stays with us for about 8 more months and finds all of my blog sisters too!!!
love you all! - inB
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
my crown-rump length obsession
I mentioned previously that my fetus is "measuring small". It was measured at 6mm on Monday, which was 6 weeks 6 days (or 49 days gestational age, see explanation below).
Just in case any of you out there ever get as obsessed with crown-rump length as I have, I have some good data for you.
Basically, my advice is to hell with the google searches. Everything I found on basic google searches or even google scholar freaked the living daylights out of me to the point where I was a pathetic crying lump on the bathroom floor last night because my breasts don't hurt anymore.
I am lucky b/c I work at a very large university with a medical school and a fantastic library. Unfortunately this isn't available to everyone. That is really too bad because Dr. Google was making me totally freak out, suggesting that my fetus was almost a week behind on growth, and suggesting that there is no variation in very early fetal crown-rump length. (While I logically knew that this could not possibly be true, emotionally I couldn't ignore it.)
I found a recently (2010) published paper in the journal "Ultrasound Obstetrics and Gynecology" (issue 35, pages 650-655) that is titled, "New crown-rump length curve based on over 3,500 pregnancies." This was published by a bunch of doctors from various institutions in the UK. Lead author is A. Pexsters.
I like him or her because this is what they told me.
At gestational age of 49 days (which is the number of days since CD1 of the last menstrual period), the average embryo was 8.0mm, and 90% of the 3,500 pregnancies ranged between 4.8mm to 11.5mm.
All of these 3,500 pregnancies resulted in healthy babies.
This puts my little fetus at the lower end, but only about 2 days behind the mean and well within a comfortable range of variation for it's age.
I love libraries.
I'll email a pdf of this article to anyone who wants it -- just let me know!
(btw, I'm still freaking out and preparing myself to be diagnosed with a miscarriage on Saturday, don't get me wrong here. But this little piece of data at least got me off the floor.)
Just in case any of you out there ever get as obsessed with crown-rump length as I have, I have some good data for you.
Basically, my advice is to hell with the google searches. Everything I found on basic google searches or even google scholar freaked the living daylights out of me to the point where I was a pathetic crying lump on the bathroom floor last night because my breasts don't hurt anymore.
I am lucky b/c I work at a very large university with a medical school and a fantastic library. Unfortunately this isn't available to everyone. That is really too bad because Dr. Google was making me totally freak out, suggesting that my fetus was almost a week behind on growth, and suggesting that there is no variation in very early fetal crown-rump length. (While I logically knew that this could not possibly be true, emotionally I couldn't ignore it.)
I found a recently (2010) published paper in the journal "Ultrasound Obstetrics and Gynecology" (issue 35, pages 650-655) that is titled, "New crown-rump length curve based on over 3,500 pregnancies." This was published by a bunch of doctors from various institutions in the UK. Lead author is A. Pexsters.
I like him or her because this is what they told me.
At gestational age of 49 days (which is the number of days since CD1 of the last menstrual period), the average embryo was 8.0mm, and 90% of the 3,500 pregnancies ranged between 4.8mm to 11.5mm.
(figure from the paper explaining what crown-rump length is)
All of these 3,500 pregnancies resulted in healthy babies.
This puts my little fetus at the lower end, but only about 2 days behind the mean and well within a comfortable range of variation for it's age.
I love libraries.
I'll email a pdf of this article to anyone who wants it -- just let me know!
(btw, I'm still freaking out and preparing myself to be diagnosed with a miscarriage on Saturday, don't get me wrong here. But this little piece of data at least got me off the floor.)
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
The most frustrating thing about the internet
The most frustrating thing about the internet is that, no matter how long I search and how many new word combinations I come up with for Google, I still can't find the site that will tell me whether or not I'm going to have a baby.
But I still spend hours and hours looking, just in case it is out there somewhere.
I sent a freak-out email to the nurse at my RE's office, and she very kindly made an appointment for me with my RE on Saturday. I love her. And have I mentioned that I love my RE? Maybe she'll bring the little pumpkin seed some luck, since she is the one who conceived it for me in the first place.
But I still spend hours and hours looking, just in case it is out there somewhere.
I sent a freak-out email to the nurse at my RE's office, and she very kindly made an appointment for me with my RE on Saturday. I love her. And have I mentioned that I love my RE? Maybe she'll bring the little pumpkin seed some luck, since she is the one who conceived it for me in the first place.
Monday, July 19, 2010
The news
I can't thank you all enough for the incredibly supportive comments!!! I got to the dr's office about 15 minutes early and sat there reading your comments over and over to keep my head together. My appintment was basically on time, but it felt like for-freaking-ever.
I go to a teaching hospital, and so the dr (not my regular RE, unfortunately) had the dr-in-training do the wanding first. She's concentrating really hard on the screen, not saying a word, and then he steps over and has no expression either. So I steel myself for what is obviously going to be bad news. The dr then tells the dr-in-training to tell me what she's seeing... and she says that she sees the sac and the baby (yes, she actually called it a baby, which I think more experienced dr's don't do, but I thought was cute), and a heartbeat!!!
There is only one, so we gotta stop referring to them as "the babies".
And the other news, which is not so good, is that the dr said that the fetus is measuring small. I haven't yet found the data on the web about what is normal for length at 7 weeks, but I will keep searching. Of course there just had to be something to worry about. But the heart rate is 124 which is apparently exactly where you want it to be for right now. And the dr did say that there is so much error measuring these things with sonograms that it isn't all that concerning since the heart rate is so good.
The odd twist of fate was that this was the same dr that did the test where I found out about the septate uterus. Yep, the last time I went to a test by myself... oof. I was a nerevous puddle, to say tthe least. I really can't help but be superstitious. Luckily, just maybe, we broke the pattern with him.
As for my father in law, thank you so much for you best wishes. Turns out that he had a mild heart attack and does have some damage to his heart tissue. They are doing an angiogram tomorrow morning and will find out immediately whether or not he needs a stint or two or open heart surgery.
I feel so terrible for Dh. His mom is a mess and it is all on him right now. Thankfully I didn't have to give him more bad news today.
I love you all. Thank you SO much for getting me through this really hard day. I seriously don't know what I'd do without you.
love, InB
I go to a teaching hospital, and so the dr (not my regular RE, unfortunately) had the dr-in-training do the wanding first. She's concentrating really hard on the screen, not saying a word, and then he steps over and has no expression either. So I steel myself for what is obviously going to be bad news. The dr then tells the dr-in-training to tell me what she's seeing... and she says that she sees the sac and the baby (yes, she actually called it a baby, which I think more experienced dr's don't do, but I thought was cute), and a heartbeat!!!
There is only one, so we gotta stop referring to them as "the babies".
And the other news, which is not so good, is that the dr said that the fetus is measuring small. I haven't yet found the data on the web about what is normal for length at 7 weeks, but I will keep searching. Of course there just had to be something to worry about. But the heart rate is 124 which is apparently exactly where you want it to be for right now. And the dr did say that there is so much error measuring these things with sonograms that it isn't all that concerning since the heart rate is so good.
The odd twist of fate was that this was the same dr that did the test where I found out about the septate uterus. Yep, the last time I went to a test by myself... oof. I was a nerevous puddle, to say tthe least. I really can't help but be superstitious. Luckily, just maybe, we broke the pattern with him.
As for my father in law, thank you so much for you best wishes. Turns out that he had a mild heart attack and does have some damage to his heart tissue. They are doing an angiogram tomorrow morning and will find out immediately whether or not he needs a stint or two or open heart surgery.
I feel so terrible for Dh. His mom is a mess and it is all on him right now. Thankfully I didn't have to give him more bad news today.
I love you all. Thank you SO much for getting me through this really hard day. I seriously don't know what I'd do without you.
love, InB
Sunday, July 18, 2010
seriously?
For all IF women, this is a cruel joke. Not sure if the link will work, but some woman in Utah has two uteruses and, yes, is pregnant in both at the same freaking time. I'm not even sure how to respond to that.
On a very different note, you know how I said that I really need to hold Dh's hand tomorrow for the sonogram? Well, the cruel timing of life happened. Dh's dad ended up in the hospital yesterday, so Dh had to drive 6 hours to be there this morning to help out. Sounds like his Dad will be ok, though maybe not the same again. But Dh won't be home for several days at the earliest.
This means I get to go to the ultrasound appointment by myself.
I am looking at it as a test of the theory of 'bad luck'. Last time I went to a test like this by myself I found out that I had a septate uterus and needed surgery. The time before that was the miscarriage diagnosis. SOOO... we'll see what happens. I keep repeating the mantra "good things DO happen... good things DO happen..."
On a very different note, you know how I said that I really need to hold Dh's hand tomorrow for the sonogram? Well, the cruel timing of life happened. Dh's dad ended up in the hospital yesterday, so Dh had to drive 6 hours to be there this morning to help out. Sounds like his Dad will be ok, though maybe not the same again. But Dh won't be home for several days at the earliest.
This means I get to go to the ultrasound appointment by myself.
I am looking at it as a test of the theory of 'bad luck'. Last time I went to a test like this by myself I found out that I had a septate uterus and needed surgery. The time before that was the miscarriage diagnosis. SOOO... we'll see what happens. I keep repeating the mantra "good things DO happen... good things DO happen..."
Friday, July 16, 2010
A bad anniversary
Over the summer of 2008 I decided that I needed to be more proactive on the getting pregnant thing. We had stopped birth control in March, but "frequent" is not how I would describe schnoogy in my house. I started OPKs... so I know that I ovulated on September 20th. (I still remember how Dh complained that timed sex was so "unnatural"... wow, have we come a long way since then.)
On October 1, 2008, I had a positive pregnancy test. On Oct 21st I was having some spotting so I went to see my OB a few days early for my first ultrasound. There was a heartbeat, so things seemed ok.
That night, that Tuesday night I woke up with horrible, and I mean horrible cramping in my uterus. I ran to the bathroom and passed a significant amount of blood and clumps of bloody stuff. It was dark, and I was a little out of it because it was the middle of the night, so I went back to bed. Dh asked if I was ok, and I said, "I have a really bad cramp and just lost a lot of blood; I don't think this bodes very well for the baby." But I went back to sleep.
On Friday afternoon I went back to the OB's office where, after an hour long wait in the waiting room followed by a 45 minute wait sitting half naked in the grungiest examination room in North America, it was definitely ascertained that I'd lost the pregnancy. Things then happened very fast because it was late in the day. I got the emergency Rh- shot (b/c I'm Rh-) and then had to rush over to a lab that was still open to get my blood drawn for an hCG test. The nurse there cheerily asked if I thought I was pregnant, and I told him, "No, I just had a miscarriage." He didn't say anything else. Neither did I. I walked out to the sidewalk, called Dh and told him that it was bad news and burst into incoherent tears. He went home with me and we cried together on the couch for hours, and drank.
The cramping at night was 31 days after ovulation. The diagnosis was 34 days after ovulation.
If you count my egg retrieval as ovulation, as the nurse at my RE's office said to do, today is 31 days later. Tonight is the anniversary of my miscarriage.
The good news:
I'm not bleeding today.
I got my septate uterus fixed (which is a likely candidate for the cause of the miscarriage).
I can't do anything to change what will happen.
So I'm hanging in here. I'm not freaking out. There really is nothing I can do, and I'm about as at peace with that as I think a non-Buddhist can be. Or at least as calm as someone with my temperament can be about this.
But I will definitely ask Dh to hold my hand on Monday when we go for our first ultrasound. I have never been more sure of needing his reassurance.
On October 1, 2008, I had a positive pregnancy test. On Oct 21st I was having some spotting so I went to see my OB a few days early for my first ultrasound. There was a heartbeat, so things seemed ok.
That night, that Tuesday night I woke up with horrible, and I mean horrible cramping in my uterus. I ran to the bathroom and passed a significant amount of blood and clumps of bloody stuff. It was dark, and I was a little out of it because it was the middle of the night, so I went back to bed. Dh asked if I was ok, and I said, "I have a really bad cramp and just lost a lot of blood; I don't think this bodes very well for the baby." But I went back to sleep.
On Friday afternoon I went back to the OB's office where, after an hour long wait in the waiting room followed by a 45 minute wait sitting half naked in the grungiest examination room in North America, it was definitely ascertained that I'd lost the pregnancy. Things then happened very fast because it was late in the day. I got the emergency Rh- shot (b/c I'm Rh-) and then had to rush over to a lab that was still open to get my blood drawn for an hCG test. The nurse there cheerily asked if I thought I was pregnant, and I told him, "No, I just had a miscarriage." He didn't say anything else. Neither did I. I walked out to the sidewalk, called Dh and told him that it was bad news and burst into incoherent tears. He went home with me and we cried together on the couch for hours, and drank.
The cramping at night was 31 days after ovulation. The diagnosis was 34 days after ovulation.
If you count my egg retrieval as ovulation, as the nurse at my RE's office said to do, today is 31 days later. Tonight is the anniversary of my miscarriage.
The good news:
I'm not bleeding today.
I got my septate uterus fixed (which is a likely candidate for the cause of the miscarriage).
I can't do anything to change what will happen.
So I'm hanging in here. I'm not freaking out. There really is nothing I can do, and I'm about as at peace with that as I think a non-Buddhist can be. Or at least as calm as someone with my temperament can be about this.
But I will definitely ask Dh to hold my hand on Monday when we go for our first ultrasound. I have never been more sure of needing his reassurance.
Monday, July 12, 2010
funny-mares
Last night I have a very vivid and realistic dream that dh's penis was 2 feet long.
This morning I dreamed that a guy from work was smoking weed in my bathroom. Dh and I were sitting on the floor with him, but instead of smoking I was going on a very long rant about what an ass our dept chair is, and dh kept asking where he got the weed from.
so much better than insomnia.
This morning I dreamed that a guy from work was smoking weed in my bathroom. Dh and I were sitting on the floor with him, but instead of smoking I was going on a very long rant about what an ass our dept chair is, and dh kept asking where he got the weed from.
so much better than insomnia.
Friday, July 9, 2010
treading too lightly
One of the things that I have lost over the last few years is my sense of strength. I used to be fearless. I had had some knocks, like needing emergency spine surgery and a nasty car accident that really shook my confidence and made me feel fragile, but they were one-time events that got fixed, and I got well.
But over the last few years I have really lost that brave woman I used to be.
I lost it professionally because of some people in my department who conspired to try and get me denied tenure. The problem was that I am actually really good at what I do. But that didn't stop them. When the first 8 outside letters of evaluation came back very strong, which is the average that our university does for tenure cases, they procured 10 more reviews, only to get 10 more really positive letters.
So what did they do? They lied in the write-up of my tenure case. They get caught at this, so instead of just fixing it, the chair of my department decided to sit on it and do nothing so that my case was 6 months late leaving the department.
The problem? There was a guy who went up for tenure at the same time as me. Everything went smoothly and timely for him, so the comparison is something that looks a lot like sexual discrimination.
Everything eventually worked out after an emotionally wrought process, and it was so egregious that the university president even apologized to me (as they really didn't want me to get a lawyer). But it really hurt my motivation - the whole horrible experience really shook my love for the job. I lost faith in the goodness of most people and the sense that academia is a meritocracy. Combine this experience with some other mean colleagues who kept me from publishing out of spite and jealousy and I really lost my mojo.
It was around then that I decided that the job was not worth all the personal life sacrifices, that I wanted there to be more to who I am and how I define myself. I wanted to have children.
I got pregnant within the first 6 months of trying and was ecstatic, crazy happy. Fuck the awful guys at work. I was going to have my life, my baby.
I felt so strong again. I found my mojo. I vividly remember looking at my reflection in the mirror in the gym stretching room, so excited at this new phase of my life. I vividly remember telling a dear friend that I was happy that I had waited until I was 37 to have children because I knew I was ready to be a good mom now.
My mother had her children when she was very young and has always blamed us for robbing her of her opportunity to live up to her professional potential. Bitterness fills our relationship. But I knew I wouldn't have that with my children at this point in my life.
I even thought that maybe we'd have two babies close in age -- I'd get pregnant again soon after the first.
And a week later I had the miscarriage.
No need to review the absolute devastation, but if you add in the professional blows I had experienced the year before, you can understand why this was extremely hard on my psyche.
And not being able to get pregnant since meant that my ego took constant repetitive blows; over and over every menstrual cycle I failed at what is supposed to be so natural for women. This is what millions of years of evolution have selected for us to do -- have babies. And I failed at it, miserably.
And the hardest part was that this was largely my fault, as I kept putting the baby stuff off until my careeer was stable, only to find out that I was sacrificing my personal life for a really unfair system run by a bunch of assholes. The realization stung so bad...
professional life smackdown
personal life smackdown
Where do you go from there? well, you admit defeat and take your humiliated ass to the RE's office.
And after an ART journey of a year or so, I find myself here, a little bit pregnant, and very scared.
I went to the gym yesterday for the first time in months. My locker was even dusty inside. I have been so scared to exercise, esp since the embryo transfer. I walk around like I am going to break. I don't even walk quickly, for fear that this might jar my uterus too much. I was really careful at the gym today, just the bike for 30 minutes never getting my heart rate over 110, which is well below the 140 that pregnant women should not exceed. I lifted some ridiculously light weights for my weakling arms. Then I went to the stretching room and looked in the mirror.
I keep reminding myself that 70% of pregnancies end with babies. But from where I stand now, I know that bad things happen, and that they can and do happen to me.
It is hard not to shake the concept of luck, that some people have good luck and some people have bad luck. Now that I have spent three years or so on the bad luck track, is it really possible that I am not on it anymore?
How do I find the strength to look forward with confidence and enthusiasm?
How do I return to being the strong woman I used to be, the one who wasn't afraid to walk in front?
Will I forever be burdened with a fragile soul that fears to step too confidently?
But over the last few years I have really lost that brave woman I used to be.
I lost it professionally because of some people in my department who conspired to try and get me denied tenure. The problem was that I am actually really good at what I do. But that didn't stop them. When the first 8 outside letters of evaluation came back very strong, which is the average that our university does for tenure cases, they procured 10 more reviews, only to get 10 more really positive letters.
So what did they do? They lied in the write-up of my tenure case. They get caught at this, so instead of just fixing it, the chair of my department decided to sit on it and do nothing so that my case was 6 months late leaving the department.
The problem? There was a guy who went up for tenure at the same time as me. Everything went smoothly and timely for him, so the comparison is something that looks a lot like sexual discrimination.
Everything eventually worked out after an emotionally wrought process, and it was so egregious that the university president even apologized to me (as they really didn't want me to get a lawyer). But it really hurt my motivation - the whole horrible experience really shook my love for the job. I lost faith in the goodness of most people and the sense that academia is a meritocracy. Combine this experience with some other mean colleagues who kept me from publishing out of spite and jealousy and I really lost my mojo.
It was around then that I decided that the job was not worth all the personal life sacrifices, that I wanted there to be more to who I am and how I define myself. I wanted to have children.
I got pregnant within the first 6 months of trying and was ecstatic, crazy happy. Fuck the awful guys at work. I was going to have my life, my baby.
I felt so strong again. I found my mojo. I vividly remember looking at my reflection in the mirror in the gym stretching room, so excited at this new phase of my life. I vividly remember telling a dear friend that I was happy that I had waited until I was 37 to have children because I knew I was ready to be a good mom now.
My mother had her children when she was very young and has always blamed us for robbing her of her opportunity to live up to her professional potential. Bitterness fills our relationship. But I knew I wouldn't have that with my children at this point in my life.
I even thought that maybe we'd have two babies close in age -- I'd get pregnant again soon after the first.
And a week later I had the miscarriage.
No need to review the absolute devastation, but if you add in the professional blows I had experienced the year before, you can understand why this was extremely hard on my psyche.
And not being able to get pregnant since meant that my ego took constant repetitive blows; over and over every menstrual cycle I failed at what is supposed to be so natural for women. This is what millions of years of evolution have selected for us to do -- have babies. And I failed at it, miserably.
And the hardest part was that this was largely my fault, as I kept putting the baby stuff off until my careeer was stable, only to find out that I was sacrificing my personal life for a really unfair system run by a bunch of assholes. The realization stung so bad...
professional life smackdown
personal life smackdown
Where do you go from there? well, you admit defeat and take your humiliated ass to the RE's office.
And after an ART journey of a year or so, I find myself here, a little bit pregnant, and very scared.
I went to the gym yesterday for the first time in months. My locker was even dusty inside. I have been so scared to exercise, esp since the embryo transfer. I walk around like I am going to break. I don't even walk quickly, for fear that this might jar my uterus too much. I was really careful at the gym today, just the bike for 30 minutes never getting my heart rate over 110, which is well below the 140 that pregnant women should not exceed. I lifted some ridiculously light weights for my weakling arms. Then I went to the stretching room and looked in the mirror.
I keep reminding myself that 70% of pregnancies end with babies. But from where I stand now, I know that bad things happen, and that they can and do happen to me.
It is hard not to shake the concept of luck, that some people have good luck and some people have bad luck. Now that I have spent three years or so on the bad luck track, is it really possible that I am not on it anymore?
How do I find the strength to look forward with confidence and enthusiasm?
How do I return to being the strong woman I used to be, the one who wasn't afraid to walk in front?
Will I forever be burdened with a fragile soul that fears to step too confidently?
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
relief
second hcg today
18dp2dt
1,489
thank you thank you thank you thank you
still no symptoms.
and no more updates until July 19th when we go for our first ultrasound.
Yep, that means another tww.
18dp2dt
1,489
thank you thank you thank you thank you
still no symptoms.
and no more updates until July 19th when we go for our first ultrasound.
Yep, that means another tww.
Monday, July 5, 2010
I just can't seem to get it right
This afternoon I had to poo rather suddenly. Not that big of a deal. I eat a lot of bran so this happens.
But then I took a look at the toilet and there were these reddish/orange oily droplets. I FREAKED OUT because it kind of looked like blood, not poo.
It has happened twice this afternoon. But I have now thoroughly convinced myself that this is not blood coming from the baby-nether-regions, but something oily from the other nether-region.
I went to the internet to do some research.
I live in a big city that has lots and lots of love for organic, local, and basically all-around good-for-you food.
I got a coupon to try a prepared food service, where this company makes super delish and organic good-for-you food and delivers it to your door to be heated and consumed. So I tried it. And I ordered the super-good-for-you fish entree.
We ate it last night.
Turns out that some very buttery fish, of which I have no idea what type it was we ate last night but it might have been escolar, is indigestible and gives you orange oily diarrhea. Oh, and it is pretty high in mercury so pregnant women shouldn't eat it more than twice a month.
Yep. I have, again managed to poison my babies. I really can't seem to get this right.
But then I took a look at the toilet and there were these reddish/orange oily droplets. I FREAKED OUT because it kind of looked like blood, not poo.
It has happened twice this afternoon. But I have now thoroughly convinced myself that this is not blood coming from the baby-nether-regions, but something oily from the other nether-region.
I went to the internet to do some research.
I live in a big city that has lots and lots of love for organic, local, and basically all-around good-for-you food.
I got a coupon to try a prepared food service, where this company makes super delish and organic good-for-you food and delivers it to your door to be heated and consumed. So I tried it. And I ordered the super-good-for-you fish entree.
We ate it last night.
Turns out that some very buttery fish, of which I have no idea what type it was we ate last night but it might have been escolar, is indigestible and gives you orange oily diarrhea. Oh, and it is pretty high in mercury so pregnant women shouldn't eat it more than twice a month.
Yep. I have, again managed to poison my babies. I really can't seem to get this right.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
The headache
I'm really prone to tension headaches and the occasional migraine. I always have a headache on CD 1 and 2. I started getting a headache last Thursday, which was one of the reasons I was very sure I wasn't pregnant.
And I still have it. I just can't get this to go away. I even wake up from the pain in the middle of the night.
And every time I wake up I touch my breasts to see if they've started to hurt. The answer, not really. I can pretend that they kind of do, but then again I'm injecting lots and lots of progestrone into my butt every night, so that will make them sore too.
But the headache.
I can hardly wait until Tuesday when I get another blood test. I really need confirmation. It feels like a cruel joke that I have started to mentally rearrange my life based on one phone call from the dr's office. (And I canceled my work trip to Europe this week, just in case of an ectopic pregnancy -- at the advice of my dr.) What if there was a mistake?
I've never wanted to feel nauseous so much in my life.
And I still have it. I just can't get this to go away. I even wake up from the pain in the middle of the night.
And every time I wake up I touch my breasts to see if they've started to hurt. The answer, not really. I can pretend that they kind of do, but then again I'm injecting lots and lots of progestrone into my butt every night, so that will make them sore too.
But the headache.
I can hardly wait until Tuesday when I get another blood test. I really need confirmation. It feels like a cruel joke that I have started to mentally rearrange my life based on one phone call from the dr's office. (And I canceled my work trip to Europe this week, just in case of an ectopic pregnancy -- at the advice of my dr.) What if there was a mistake?
I've never wanted to feel nauseous so much in my life.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Gut feelings ain't worth shit
I started writing today's post a few days ago, trying to come up with the perfect combination of sad about the missed opportunity and staying positive about what I do have to look forward to, which is a lot, childless or not.
Dh has almost gotten mad at me for my bad attitude. He kept saying it's bad for the babies.
So, yep. That very, very sure "I'm not pregnant feeling" was, apparently, entirely wrong.
My beta came in at 314 today.
Can you say, OMG?!!! Add a few curse words there if you of the ilk... I did.
*** by the way -- I LOVE YOU ALL. Thanks for being here for me. And for being here for me on Tuesday when we get the next news. Whatever happens, I am eternally grateful to have blog sisters through it all. I know you will make another miscarriage nowhere near as painful as the first. ***
Dh has almost gotten mad at me for my bad attitude. He kept saying it's bad for the babies.
So, yep. That very, very sure "I'm not pregnant feeling" was, apparently, entirely wrong.
My beta came in at 314 today.
Can you say, OMG?!!! Add a few curse words there if you of the ilk... I did.
*** by the way -- I LOVE YOU ALL. Thanks for being here for me. And for being here for me on Tuesday when we get the next news. Whatever happens, I am eternally grateful to have blog sisters through it all. I know you will make another miscarriage nowhere near as painful as the first. ***
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Because I love self-torture
I actually attended a baby shower for a colleague today. I managed to stay an entire 20 minutes before I just had to get the hell out of there.
I lost the stupid string game, you know the one where you guess the length of string needed to fit around the pregnant lady's belly? Yea. I actually participated.
And I ate chocolate cake.
When someone beside me said it was so wonderful how one of the male professors always brings his baby into work, I sniped, "yep, if I had a stay at home wife, I'd have babies to bring in too."
Oops. After that, I figured it was time for me to leave.
I lost the stupid string game, you know the one where you guess the length of string needed to fit around the pregnant lady's belly? Yea. I actually participated.
And I ate chocolate cake.
When someone beside me said it was so wonderful how one of the male professors always brings his baby into work, I sniped, "yep, if I had a stay at home wife, I'd have babies to bring in too."
Oops. After that, I figured it was time for me to leave.
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