Tuesday, December 30, 2008

More Sadness

Remember how I was jealous about my MA that was pregnant because she was so hopeful and buying maternity clothes and set the crib up when she was 5 weeks pregnant? And because she's the sweetest person on the face of the earth? She miscarried. On Christmas Day. About 2 hours before she had a big reveal planned for her entire family. She had an awful experience in the ER and no one was nice to her. I feel awful. Even more so because EVERYone at our office knows. She spends the majority of her day sitting at the front desk where she encounters about 25 drug reps per day. All of whom will probably ask her how she's feeling and what's going on with the baby. I cringe thinking about it. After my first loss, the front desk girls cut everyone off and let them know about the miscarriage and let them know not to say a word to me about it. Um....who's going to do that for her??? It breaks my heart really.

I've been thinking for a while that she and/or her husband have some type of infertility thing going on. She's 24 ..he's 25. They've been together since they were 14. They have never, never used any form of birth control. Ever. I was shocked when she told me that. This was her second pregnancy in 10 years of activity. Umm...at her age? That can't be right. I want to point her towards some sort of testing but how do you suggest that to someone? Hey? Have you ever thought that it's not normal that you haven't been pregnant 500 times by now??

Hello 2nd Trimester

I had my second OB appointment this morning. I was nervous, for a change. The friend/OB and all of her OB colleagues had this week off so the NPs and the CNM's were running the show. I originally scheduled the appointment with the friend/NP that I went to school with. She ended up calling in sick so they rolled me over to one of the other girls. Umm...if you're not familiar with nurses ....there are basically 2 different kinds. One is kind of old school. A nursey nurse if you will. Overly sweet, caring, touchy-feely, kinda frumpy, "yes, doctor" type. The other type ...kind of the "newer" school nurse ...usually much more assertive, empowering, ummm..hip? maybe. I don't know. I always think more educated but I'm not sure that's fair. I'm definitely not a nurseynurse. If you know what I mean. So anyway....I was somewhat surprised when the NP that walked in was very much a nursey nurse, older, hair in a million bobby pins ...and umm...wasn't incredibly informative. I labeled her before she really said 3 words if you want to know the truth. Her name is Myrtie. And umm...I couldn't get past that. Now I feel a little ass-like about that ....but such is life. I still hadn't gotten my lab results to find out whether or not they think I'm diabetic. She couldn't find them in the chart. Umm...huh? She looked for the heartbeat for about 3 seconds before she gave up. Umm..please. This early? You usually have to search around a little. My blood pressure was up again ...which freaks me out because I wasn't that nervous. She said it was "fine" ...and I said, "In what OB book?" Because I'm bitchy that way. I'll check it a couple of times a day and fax it to the friend/OB that actually has a clue.

Anyway ...she ended up doing a bedside ultrasound ...which was fine. The baby? Cracks me up already. It looks gigantic compared to the last time. GIGANTIC. It never stopped moving around the entire time ...flips, kicks, swimming, jumping. I've already pre-diagnosed it with ADHD. I'm kidding. It was very endearing. A little scary ..but very endearing. Heart rate is 165. Growth is a couple of days ahead. I officially gave up progesterone suppositories today.

The best part? I lost 7 pounds in the first trimester. I told you I was sick, dammit. Now if I could just keep up the stellar baby growth AND weight loss life would be perfect. Especially because I still don't have my lab results so I can still pretend in my mind that I'm not diabetic yet.

We have zero plans for new year's eve at this point ...the golden child has a sleep over so it'll be the two of us and the cocker spaniel. We must be like 80 or something. Happy New Year everyone!!!

Friday, December 26, 2008


Things went better than I had hoped. I didn't end up having to work on Christmas Eve because we didn't actually get called ...bizarre. Monk's family and my mom came over on Christmas Eve for dinner and it was actually pretty nice. Everyone brought a dish to pass ...Monk's mom brought the ham ...the kids exchanged gifts and all was fine. Everything was cleaned up, packed away, and Santa came and I was in bed by 11 p.m. No tears, even.

Christmas day the golden child woke us up at 7 am. She was beyond thrilled with her take. We spent way too much money on her..about the only thing she didn't get was a new snowboard but she'll have to buy that on her own. I logged in to the hospital to look at my census and lo and behold there are 8 new patients on the list. Umm..great. I immediately got super emotional and crabby thinking I was going to be at the hospital all day. I get there ....do the first consult and one of the neurologists in our call group is there happy as can be. He's Muslim and doesn't celebrate Christmas at all. I had asked both my boss and the office manager to call him and ask if he would mind taking call for us on Christmas Eve/Day. They both assured me they did and that he had declined. He came up and gave me a hug ...asked me how I was. I said that I was crabby because of being there on Christmas ...and he said, "You should have called!! I would have been more than happy to take these days for you! I am going to be here anyway!" I could have killed someone. Namely? My boss and office manager. I have literally been stressed out about being on call on Christmas since last January when the call schedule came out. I smiled and said thank you and then promptly prepared for ways to kill the people that I work with. I checked on the next 2 consults and both of them had been cancelled. So ...I got brave ...called my boss ..and told her that I was leaving for the day. I told her that because she chose to lie about not being able to find coverage for the holiday, I was choosing to spend the day with my family instead of her. She was surprised, I think, but said, "Okay...then I'll see you on Saturday?" Yep ..you will. I haven't talked to her since. It looks like she's getting slammed today ...so I'm sure I'll end up working two 16 hour days this weekend ...but such is life.

I got home ...we went to Monk's parents and exchanged gifts and had Christmas lunch. I'm pretty sure his mom was upset because literally EVERY single gift that she bought people is being returned. His family is actually pretty rude about it ....they just announce that they hate it and it's going back. I'd never buy another single thing for any of them if I were her. We left there, stopped at home to get the food to take to my mom's and drove out there. Exchanged gifts, had a late dinner, and came home. All in all ...I survived. None of it was as awful as what I had anticipated it would be.

In other news ...I seem to be suddenly sporting a baby bump. I'm sure that it's not noticeable to anyone but me, and even with me it's a bit of a stretch. Definitely in the morning when I'm laying down I can feel a lower abdominal fullness/firmness that I definitely can't attribute to the 30 day shred video. Clothes still fit fine. I think I'm pretty much in denial that this is actually happening. I can definitely feel the 2nd trimester approaching ....constant fatigue, dizziness, and nausea seem to be abating. Two more scary weeks to go. I promise to stay away from the pomegranate body wash if you guys promise to get me through the next couple of scary risky miscarriage weeks.


Here's to the New Year!

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

The Grinch Stole My Christmas

Just to prove that I'm a psycho, I did actually squirt some pomegranate mango body wash into an empty clean tub to see what happens ...and ..voila ...instant blood clots. It's quite amazing how realistic it is, really. And that's coming from a former ICU nurse that spent a lot of 16 hour shifts in blood up to her elbows. Anyway.

I'm not feeling the Christmas season this year. I can't quite put my finger on why ...but all that I really feel is stressed. I'd much rather curl up in bed for the next few days and avoid everyone and the stress that comes with gift giving/receiving. Not very christian of me, I suppose ...but ...I'm just blah. I've actually never had to work on a Christmas and/or Christmas Eve before ..which is quite amazing considering how long I worked as a RN in a hospital. I'm not sure if it's that ...or being pregnant ....or missing my dad ...or the wretched cold/sinus infection that's taken over my head for the last week or what. I just find myself looking forward to January 2nd when everything is done and over with. Totally NOT like me in any way. I usually love Christmas. My parents always way outdid themselves for every holiday. I don't remember one that wasn't perfectly Norman Rockwellish, in fact. Always the perfect gift, the perfect attitude, decorations, food. Chestnuts roasting over an open fire, even. I really want that for the golden child as well....but I'm not sure that it's something you can fake. This year I feel like it'll be a miracle for me to drag myself out of bed and give a half-hearted "merry christmas ..there's your crap." She should be ecstatic with the presents she gets ...but she'd be happier if she had a happy mom.

I've spent the last couple of days wondering if I'm in some sort of weird pregnancy induced depression or what. I have the most exaggerated emotional responses to the silliest stuff. I was watching the today show the other day and they had a show on about bone marrow donation. Cute show ...cute family ...yeah two people saved the life of a child. Normally I might get a little teary over something like that. I actually sobbed on the couch for 20 minutes over it and was late to work because I couldn't get myself together. I just feel like I'm right on the edge all the time. Monk - who, by the way - has had the last 2 weeks off - asked me to help him wrap presents when I got home from work last night and I launched into a 20 minute tirade about how he sucks as a human being for asking ..because umm..I worked dammit and couldn't he tell that I would need an hour or so to chill out? He was like ..umm...back off, psycho. Which, was honestly probably a fairly legitimate response on his part but pissed me off more anyway.

Not a great Christmas post ...sorry. I'll do better next year. Hopefully even next week.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Moment of Terror

First ....Happy Birthday Monk!

I was in the bathtub yesterday morning and looked down between my legs to see pinkish/red clots floating in the water. At first, I saw 2 ...frantically started to look around ...and they were everywhere. I can't even describe the next five minutes except to say total panic. Eventually, I did some investigation. Umm...nothing coming from the baby maker that I could find. Maybe I cut my leg shaving? Ummm..no. What the hell? Got of the tub, crying, sure that I was losing the baby even though I couldn't find any direct evidence of that. Called for Monk ...asked him to investigate while I curled myself into a ball on the bed. I hear him start swearing ....look up ..

And he's holding a bottle of pomegranate-mango body wash that is umm...very pinkish/red ...that I was using to shave my legs.


Thursday, December 18, 2008

Whole lot of failin' going on

I put my big girl panties on and went in for the stupid test. It was kinda crappy to tell you the truth. For some reason they made me drink 100 grams of sort of orange flavored syrup. I kept telling the woman it was only supposed to be 50 grams ...but she didn't believe me. Umm...I order the test all the time ...so I know. Whatev. I shut up and drank it. Spent the next 8 hours wanting to throw up...cause umm...I don't ever ..and I mean ever ...consume 100 grams of straight up glucose in 5 minutes. My blood sugar going in to the test was 74. Fairly respectable. I checked it about 45 minutes in to see if I was going to have to go outside and run a mile or something and it was 122. Hmm..fairly respectable considering the double carb load for a 1 hour test. Went in ..had the blood drawn. Went to my car ..checked my blood again ..132. Dammit. 130 is the cut off. I got pissed and went to taco bell and ate 2 burritos. Probably about another 100 carbs worth. Because I'm that smart. Anyway. My blood sugar an hour after that was 86 ..so I would pass a 2 or 3 hour with no problem.

Typically capillary blood will be about 10% higher than a serum draw but I'm not usually that lucky. So ..I'm sure tomorrow I'll get the call that they want me to repeat the entire thing over with a 3 hour test. I think I'll tell them to screw it and not lose another entire day feeling pukey and just call myself diabetic and be done with it. If the numbers are that close on 2 grams of metformin a day ...let's just call a spade a spade. Ya know?

We're about to get smacked with a huge snow storm ...we're in the 12 inch plus range predicted for tomorrow. I umm....haven't started Christmas shopping yet. Monk's birthday is Sunday and I have nothing for that. Saturday is my huge extended family Christmas so that pretty much knocks out that day for shopping. Monk's family is coming to celebrate his birthday on Sunday ..so umm....screwed there. I just found out that we're having his family here for Christmas Eve dinner. Umm. Yeah. And I'm on call. Christmas Eve. Christmas Day. Entire Christmas Weekend.

And I have an interview for a new job on Tuesday. With my boss' competitor and arch enemy. Ouch for her.

Bah Humbug.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Diabetic Schmiabetic

I decided that I'm a pretty good nurse practitioner ...and a piss poor patient. I'm going to have to force myself to go get my labs done that were ordered well over 2 weeks ago. I'm forcing myself to make it happen tomorrow. If I thought there was a way for me to fake it ...I totally wouldn't go. I can't even tell you how much I'm dreading the 1 hour gestational screen glucose tolerance test. I *hate* insulin resistance and pcos. *hate* *hate* *hate* it. I have every intention of testing my blood sugar on my own before I go in and when I leave so that I know what the results are right away. I've been secretly plotting how to "fix" the results so they come out the right way. Umm..you got it. Crazy girl is back. My ideas for fixing the results? Running up and down the stairs for the entire full hour. Hiding in the bathroom and doing an hour worth of squats, lunges, and running in place...sneaking in insulin and taking some just in case ..umm...yeah. That might be taking things too far.

Okay seriously. WTF is wrong with me? Obviously the rational part of my brain knows that if I'm diabetic I need to take care of it and want to know about it at the earliest possible time. I also know that chances are more than likely that I will be since I'm starting out with insulin resistance and have been on massive doses of progesterone which makes insulin resistance worse. I limit and count carbs. Sort of. Seriously??? Sort of??!?Unless the 2nd piece of pizza at lunch today is calling my name or something. It's pathetic. I think I'll go lick Monk's chocolate ice cream cone to make myself feel better about the whole thing.

The health care provider in me? Teaches diabetic education a full 10 hours per week. To umm...gestational diabetics. I'm not even kidding. I have a certification in advanced diabetic management at a master's level that took me a very long time to get. It was a bitch of a test. You kind of have to be pretty smart about all things diabetic to get it. Wanna schedule an appointment with me?

The wife in me? Would probably be murdered and stuffed into a random crawlspace if Monk ever read this. Because umm... Monk? Is a Type 1 diabetic. On an insulin pump. And checks his blood a bare minimum of 10 times per day. And gets harassed by his wife probably 2 hours a day because I want him to wear a continuous glucose monitor in addition to his pump. So I'm sensing I wouldn't get a lot of support about being a pansy about the 1 hour GTT. Just guessing. In truth? I'm embarrassed to even tell him that I have to have the stupid test. And I'm pretty sure that he doesn't even know that I'm taking Metformin. Or what Metformin is for.

I've gotta go. I need to go find a phone book to look up "Treatments for crazy girls". Think I'll have any luck?

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Fun Times

The wedding? Was about 20 times worse than what I had imagined it would be. And ..if you need the reminder ...I went into it thinking it would be a better time to poke my own eyes out with a pencil. Twenty. Times. Worse.

The actual wedding was fine. We then spent FOUR hours on a drunk "boogie bus" complete with a stripper pole and about 15 more people than what should have legally been allowed on. Motion sickness, in case you are wondering, makes morning sickness even worse. I had been under the impression that we were going to drive around for a bit and then go to the groom's brother's house - which I was cool with - because he has a beautiful million dollar home and his wife is my friend. Instead ...we drove around with no destination in mind while the ex-girlfriend proceeded to get more and more drunk and make use of the stripper pole. Classy. Monk ...who was mostly terrified that I would spill the secret, I think, was overly attentive and pretty much glued to my side for any minute he wasn't contractually obligated to be at the head table.

Wait. The best part is coming.

During the dinner while Monk was sitting at the head table with the drunk/disgusting ex? I sat next to THE OTHER drunk ex and her husband. And she felt the need to tell me WAY too much about the fun they had in high school. I pretty much can't stand this woman anyway because I'm a petty witch ...but I was eventually forced to say, "Um...yeah. I'm good. I don't need any more details about how you almost had sex with my husband when you were 16. And he was dating your best friend." Umm...at least she moved after that.

Next? Virtually every one of Monk's friends eventually found out about me being knocked up and lots of questions/congratulations ensued. Favorite conversation from this tid bit?

Drunk guy 1: "Oh my god Monk ...you were set. You just ruined your life."

Drunk guy 2: "Wait. wait. Wait. How did this happen? Did Shauna have a canker sore or something??"

Drunk guy 3: "I'm guessing she found a used kleenex."

Ummm....yeah. I was sitting directly next to Monk during this entire conversation. He was laughing his ass off.

Lastly ...I was really kind of sad for a woman at the party who was forced to listen to all of the pregnancy talk and congratulations. She has been a friend of Monk's forever and is one of my best friend's sisters. She has been trying to have a baby since I met her. She originally started out with donor insemination to be a single mom by choice ..and it never worked. She eventually met someone and got married ....and proceeded to IVF to no avail. About nine months ago, she became a foster mom to a newborn that they intend to adopt. There's some weird legal issues with the dad who might not actually be the dad or something and they aren't sure if the adoption will go through. I honestly don't think that I'm that strong of a person to do something like that. I can't imagine losing a baby that I've loved for a year to someone that I know won't and/or can't care for him the same way I do. In the meantime, she was told that her eggs are too old and will have to move on to donor eggs. Her much younger sister donated eggs and she had her first DE transfer the day after Thanksgiving. I'm assuming it didn't work because she was drinking last night at the wedding ..but umm....sitting next to a table that was all pregnancy talk (albeit crude and annoying pregnancy talk) had to be incredibly painful. I just kind of avoided her for the entire night but felt miserable for her.

On to Week 11. One of the scary four weeks down ...three to go.

Oh...and I finally ate my five dollah foot long tonight. Vegetarian - of course. It was at least as good as I was imagining it to be. I still avoid meat like the plague. I have added dairy products back in. I'm pretty sure I could consume my weight in cottage cheese, yogurt, and cheddar without getting sick if given the opportunity. Apparently someone needs some calcium to grow bones or something.

Friday, December 12, 2008


Five. Five Dollah. Five Dollah Foooot Loooong.

I can't get that song out of my head. I haven't felt quite brave enough to get one yet ...but I think about it for about five hours a day. Zofran? Is probably the best thing in the world. Between that and a somewhat normal progesterone level now, I feel almost like a normal person again. I'm still smell sensitive and have waves of nausea but I don't feel like I'm on death row anymore.

However? It's going to take every single thing that I have to not poke my own eye out with a sharp object this weekend. Right now I'm about an hour late for an office Christmas party. I hate office Christmas parties. Monk is in a wedding this weekend where at least 2 of his ex-girlfriends will be in attendance. He is standing up with one of them. This pretty much makes me want to poke his eyes out. And because he's in the freaking wedding? It's going to consume the entire weekend. And I have a shite load of Christmas shopping and preparing to do. ARGH. If you had one inkling of how painful it will be to be around this group of people sober you'd probably volunteer to come here and poke my eyes out for me. They all started drinking at 11:30 am this morning and won't likely stop until Monday. Classy people. That's what I'm telling you. Classy.

And did I mention that my stupid husband is standing up with an ex girlfriend despite the fact that I'm pregnant and overly hormonal? Seriously. I wonder if his brain is the size of a pea. She's the sister of the groom. The groom is his best friend. No one knows they were ever together and he doesn't want to tell them. It was like 20 years ago. I might have to let it slip on the drunk bus ride between the wedding and the reception just to prove a point. Because I'm that much of a witch. But seriously. Would that piss you off?

Monday, December 8, 2008

1st Labor & Delivery visit

Yes ...you read that right. I already made my first trip to labor & delivery. Because ..you know. I'm an overachiever that way.

So ..today is the 3rd day that I haven't eaten. That's a lie. I did actually have 2 hot cocoa flavored hershey kisses after they gave me 2 liters of fluids and a crapload of IV zofran. And ..in better news ....they've stayed down so far. I woke up this morning and my heart rate was like 130 and I was flushed and dizzy and still couldn't manage to hold down a couple of ounces of flat ginger ale ...so I called the office and they sent me in for fluids. I do feel markedly better after the IV fluids ..or the zofran ...or the combination of the two. I think the dehydration was feeding the nausea and I got myself into a really nasty cycle.

And of course now? I'm craving a $5 footlong from Subway. But I'm thinking maybe we'll start with some peppermint tea and if that works I'll up the ante and sip on some vegetable broth. My progesterone level is stupid high ...so either the placenta kicked in or it all caught up with me. I'm thinking that has something to do with the extreme hyperemesis. I get to give up the PIO shots and orals ..and we'll work with just the vaginal suppositories and watch the levels closely. Anyway. Life moves on. Hopefully it will move on through the next 4 weeks quickly and I'll be in the 2nd trimester with a living fetus and able to hold some food down before I know it.

On a lighter note ...Ms. April tagged me to list 7 random facts about myself.

1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Share 7 random and/or weird facts about you.
3. Tag 7 random people at the end, and include links to their blogs.

I'm going to cheat because I'm sickly and super tired and just say ..um...if you're reading this ...you're it! :)

Random Facts:

1. Monk has never seen me naked. He' seen all the parts separately ...just never the sum of the parts in whole. Umm...you can also read that, "I have issues" if you'd like.
2. You'd think that I must be rather prudish considering number 1 ...but ..we actually have a great sex life. I still haven't figured that one out.
3. My stupid party trick? I can fold my tongue in half width-wise without using my teeth. It's supposedly genetic. The only other person I've met that can do it? Monk. Which ..genetically speaking...might be creepy but I prefer to think of it as fate.
4. I was accepted into Medical school as a freshman in undergrad at the University of Michigan. I dropped out of the program when I got pregnant with the golden child because being a mom was more important to me than being a doctor.
5. I recently found out that the golden child's donor is married and has 2 daughters. I'm really, really struggling with this information and all of it's implications for the golden child and his daughters.
6. I do approximately 6 patient visits on family members nearly every weekend. Part of me hates those members of my family for asking. I go to confession about these feelings on a nearly weekly basis but never manage to say no when someone calls sick.
7. I took 8 years of Spanish ...4 of them at the college level and spent a summer in Spain. I was very fluent in Spanish. I'm currently struggling to help the golden child with her 1st year Spanish homework. Seriously.

Saturday, December 6, 2008


In which the formerly infertile woman makes everyone want to kill her by griping about symptoms of pregnancy.

Which is awful. I know this. But seriously? I am so flipping miserable. I do feel incredibly lucky to be this miserable for this reason ...but miserable nonetheless.

I feel like I've got the worst possible ear infection because I'm constantly dizzy. I've become vegetarian because all meat is rotten flesh that tastes and smells vile. And the passing out count? Up to 6. Enough so that I have to have some stupid work up because they don't believe me when I tell them that I did this with the golden child and everything was fine. My body just does not care for pregnancy. I spent a total of about 3.5 hours out of bed yesterday. I have no idea how I'm going to work this week if this continues. My standard dress for the last 3 days has been a nasty pair of old sweatpants and a batik/tye dye number that I wore when I was nine months pregnant ( 13 years ago)that I bought from my favorite vegetarian restaurant in Ann Arbor. Yep. All kinds of sexy. I'm not sure why Monk hasn't left me yet.

Now that I'm 10 weeks ...I'm feeling reflective. All of my losses have happened between weeks 10-14. So umm...scary times. But to be honest ...this pregnancy doesn't feel anything like the losses. I'm super sick. I have NO cramping at all ..none. Which feels strange for me. I didn't realize how much I had been cramping throughout the other pregnancies until it wasn't there. I've got to thank the progesterone ...but seriously? If all it took was a progesterone suppository a couple of times a day? I'm pissed about the other losses. I guess we'll see. I remember the golden child's first ultrasound ..and the sheer rush of adrenaline I felt after watching her bounce around inside me. I literally skipped out of the university of michigan hospital. Skipped. With this ultrasound, I was relieved ...but not overwhelmed with joy. Still sitting on pins and needles. Still fairly detached.

My medical assistant just found out that she's pregnant. She's literally the sweetest person that walked the face of the planet. She has a four year old that is so cute I couldn't be his mother. I think I might eat him or spoil him so much he'd be a serial killer. This pregnancy has allowed me to feel genuinely happy for her and excited ...and I'm not sure that would have been the case otherwise. But I constantly compare. She's 4 weeks pregnant - took the test at work on Tuesday - and already calling me to tell me about sales on summer maternity clothes ...and while I appreciate it? I'm umm...not quite thinking that far ahead. I miss the innocence.

We finally told my mom/siblings and Monk's family. My family was ecstatic. Monk's sibling's very congratulatory. Monk's mom? Umm...underwhelmed. Not sure what to think about that yet.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

breathing ...

Everything went really well.

I was a nervous wreck. Like ..ridiculously so. I'm starting to diagnose myself as having generalized anxiety disorder except that it's not generalized. It's pregnancy anxiety disorder. My blood pressure was sky high for me... 130/88. The nurse started to lecture me and I said ..umm...I'm visibly shaking. How about you recheck me after the ultrasound and I'll listen to the lecture if it's still needed then?? I was borderline schizo. So much so the friendly OB did a bedside u/s before the real u/s just to calm me down.

One little bean. In my uterus - not in a tube. One kick ass corpus luteum on my left ovary. Heartrate is 167. Due Date July 4th. Baby is all of 2.5 cm, and measuring dead on day for day from the day my OPK was positive. I'll stay on the progesterone suppositories until week 13 and then taper off for a week. I've got labs for the morning ....thyroid, HIV, all the standards plus the early gestational diabetes screen/1 hour tolerance test thanks to the pcos, insulin resistance, and my fat ass.

I feel like I just exhaled for the first time in 8 weeks. Or 3 years. One of the two.

Monday, December 1, 2008


My first OB/ultrasound appointment is tomorrow at 2 ..and I'm freaking out. I took the entire second half of the day off so I have time to chill out before embarrassing myself by crying or something the minute the OB walks in. She's notoriously late ...so I'm guessing I'll get out of there somewhere around 5.

A drug rep/infertile friend of mine called the office today crying ...and I've been upset ever since. She was 1 week ahead of me ..she finished her clomid pills when I started mine. She had her first ultrasound yesterday and the baby is tubal. She's devastated. I'm devastated for her. They had her dated at 11 weeks ..which seems insane to me. She had literally NO pain and a ton of pregancy symptoms and normal labs. Now I'm back on the tubal paranoia train because I HAVE had pain and goofy labs and not very many symptoms. Most of all ...I'm heartbroken for her. This is her 3rd loss in the last 2 years ...and she was so confident this time that she was out buying clothes and such. She's scheduled for surgery in the morning ...I'm praying that they can do something to save her tube.

What I wouldn't give to be able to skip this part and be sitting at home nursing a healthy newborn . . .

Saturday, November 29, 2008


It finally occurred to me that I am actually a nurse practitioner with a fairly well stocked office and microscope so I dragged myself into my office and checked things out. Definitely had a yeast infection ...which I still think is bizarre because I still only had symptoms right after the progesterone suppository. Anyway ...after treatment ..all is well with that part of my body again. TMI? Probably. Anyway. Thanks for all of the advice/support/encouragement.

As for the sex part ..I decided to hold off after it was so nicely pointed out that my husband might manage to absorb some of the progesterone. So ..umm...I offered him the opportunity for sore nipples and nausea but he declined. We'll wait another 3 weeks. I feel safer that way anyway. And also??....3 days until ultrasound!!?!?! I can't believe I actually made it without a paranoid freak-out this long. My latest paranoia is that I'm carrying 2 sets of identical twins or something. What's causing this particular paranoia, you ask? Umm...the fact that I SWEAR I can feel alien movement. And at 8 weeks? Umm...I'm either insane or carrying a small circus. But ..I have been pregnant before and it is a rather distinctive feeling. Seems to be happening every night around 7-7:30 or so. I wonder how hard the friend/OB will laugh at me when I tell her that?

Okay ..I have to run. I'm on call at the hospital this weekend ...managed to dislocate my jaw and can't do much about it without really good drugs that would kill any parasites...got in a *massive* fight with my boss which ended with me calling her names that included "psychotic" "nut case" and "bitch" as well as offering her inpatient psych admission for her loonie self...and I also managed to pass out in the intensive care unit in front of about 35 doctors which then forced me to admit my pregnancy to all of them. Umm...good weekend all in all!

Anyone doing anything more exciting than crawling in bed with a hot water bottle on their jaw at 9 pm on a Saturday?

Hope everyone had a wonderful thanksgiving!

p.s. Monk would like me to point out that the jaw dislocation? Has NOTHING to do with the no sex going on in our house.

Monday, November 24, 2008


Does anyone out there that has had some experience with progesterone suppositories have some assvice for me?

They're starting to be a pain in the you know what. As in ...I feel like maybe I'm developing an allergy to them or a yeast infection (which I've never before had) or something. But the discomfort is only there for 10-15 minutes after I put it in. Is that normal?

And ..as a side note. Anyone know the rules when using these things? Can you have sex? Cause ..umm...Monk would like to know. I assumed no ..but ...in reality, I guess I'm not so sure.

The right sided pain is gone! It got SO bad that night and sort of radiated into my nether regions. I actually got up and got ready to go to the ER and it just suddenly passed. I don't know. I probably had a kidney stone or something which I've had before. My body never ceases to amaze me with all of it's issues.

I'm seriously not looking forward to the first OB appointment just because I know that she's going to do a breast exam and I pretty much feel like they should be protected by a force field right now. The slightest touch or brush against ANYTHING makes me want to cry.

Still worth it. All of the above. :)

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Date Night with Monk

I've been searching for a blog name for my husband ..because I hate typing "my husband" and finally settled on Monk. Umm..like the OCD detective. This is something that I call him in our real life ...because it fits. Not in looks ...but he certainly has his own OCD issues. I never knew how much it fit until after we were married (though we dated for 6 years before we married we never lived together). So ..Monk it is.

Anyway ...Monk and I had a date night tonight. Went out to dinner and to see Role Models. It was tough to be out past my appointed 7:30 pm bedtime ..but I figured that I either had to put forth the effort or committ murder. Heheh. The movie? Very funny. Vulgar ..but very funny. I'm still trying to convince Monk that he needs to be more supportive and that it is not in any way healthy for me when he acts as though this baby is going to die with certainty. I obviously have the same fears ...one of us needs to fake it. And with the tears I'm sensing that I'm the more vulnerable one ...so it's his turn to man up. And that's that. :)

I suppose I should explain a little about where we started since I chose my first ever IComLeavWe to post about him being an un-supportive ass. I would love to pretend to the world that our relationship is perfect ...but it's not ..and so I don't. We first met when he was dating my best friend. Umm...yeah. They ended things on their own ..and he and I picked up a while after that. Even in the very beginning, we both knew that we had literally nothing in common. Like ...nothing. And I'm not kidding. I love travel and the outdoors and school. He'd be content to never leave our house or neighborhood for that matter. Monk literally counts how many glasses the golden child and I drink out of during the day because he thinks it is excessive. I choose a new glass per hour just to irritate him. He frantically cleans the house on an hourly basis. I have a pile of clothes four feet deep in my walk in closet and honest to God don't know how to turn on the vacuum or where we keep the garbage bags. He shops at 3 different grocery stores to save money. I don't even look at the price tags or look for sales when I go. I would love to move to Africa for a couple of years to work in a clinic and bring home adopted babies Angelina style. He says, "Have fun. I probably won't be here when you get back."

A year or so into the relationship, my dad died. And I went more than a little loonie over it. When I looked around - he was the only one standing that was still making sense. He kept me grounded through the most difficult thing in my life. Because of the lack of commonality, I tried and he tried to end things several times in the beginning. On one such incident, I honest to God freaked out and held on to his legs as he was walking away. He still teases me about it today. Embarrassing? More than you know. But it's honest and true and me. I can't live without him. I think that there were things that we both wanted in a relationship that probably aren't here ...but the basics are. So ...just know. He's not a creep the vast majority of the time. He is, in fact, a husband that many, many women would dream of having. Do dream of having. Tell me they dream about it, even. In the last 8 years, we've been through pretty much everything. Three dead babies. In my ideal world ...he would have been equally as heartbroken as me over that. He wasn't. He would have ached for a child the same way that I do. He would have shared in the total bliss that I felt when I first saw this last positive test. But in truth ...he doesn't. It's just one more thing that we don't have in common. He's much more reserved about giving love than I. Much more guarded. I don't expect him to really accept that the pregnancy is really happening and healthy until he sees the ultrasound. I do, however, expect him to shower me with love and respect and kindness. That part? He occasionally needs a little extra nudge in. This week was one of those times. He responded well to the nudge. Eight years later ...we're still learning.

I've had this really incredibly disconcerting pain in my right lower abdomen and can't stop thinking ectopic. It's a pain that I've had before ..but I can't remember when though I've never had an ectopic. I'm going to take some tylenol ...lay down...and try to avoid the emergency room. I'm almost certain I won't make it until Dec 2nd without an ultrasound.


Is a LOT better after 11 hours of sleep :P

Friday, November 21, 2008


Today was not such a great day. For some reason, I only had 3 patients booked in the am and 22 in the afternoon. My energy levels these days seriously peak at like 1:30 p.m., so even with sneaking home to nap at lunch ...I was exhausted by 6 pm when I finally finished dictating. And then my poor family had to suffer when I came home crabby and overly emotional.

I've gotten into at least 12 fights with my husband tonight...and generally feel fairly neglected and unloved. I'm thinking that's a hormonal thing as well, but it's still very difficult to temper my responses appropriately. I feel like I have to remind him 20 times a day that I'm pregnant and taking hormones 4 times a day. He acts like I'm using it as an excuse. In fact, he even managed to say, "That's getting old." when I responded that I was tired because I'm pregnant. Um... yeah. I haven't decided yet if we're ever going to talk again yet after that one.

One of the secretaries at work made me really, really think about the speaking out about infertility thing today. She's older ...I would guess in her 50's or 60's. She, for some reason, asked me out of the blue if I was doing fertility treatments. I hesitated. Thought about yesterday's post, and said, "Yes." It was difficult at best. She then proceeded to tell me her prolonged reproductive history which involved 8 years of failed IUI, IVF, and recurrent loss. I was shocked ...because I guess...I suck...and have a preconceived idea about people that I think would do that kind of thing. I felt like I needed to take a shower after the talk - and not because she upset me. I upset myself with my utter shock that she would have gone through infertility. Anyway. I'm learning. One day at a time.

The family practice doc that still delivers baby listened for a heartbeat today and found one fairly quickly. I'm trying not to be too reassured. As pissy as I'm feeling? My thoughts aren't so much about happy family with new baby as they are about being a single mama again.

I do actually love my husband when my body has somewhat normal levels of hormones in it.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

False sense of security

My progesterone level on Tuesday was 43.6 ..up from 16 ..which was down from 30 whatever. So I'm guessing that snorting progesterone like cocaine works. At least it's in my serum. Only god knows if it's making it to my actual uterus.

Work has been so ...overwhelming for the past two weeks. And that, coupled with multiple progesterone supplements daily is making me exhausted. As in ...I really fight falling asleep with patients by 1:30 in the afternoon ...and though I want to blog and read blogs and comment? I'm usually sound asleep by 7:30 p.m. My bff's baby shower is this weekend - 3 hours away - and I really don't know if I'm going to make it because the idea of driving that far and not falling asleep at the wheel seems impossible.

I think that normal numbers are giving me a false sense of security ..and that terrifies me. I know only too well that good numbers, seeing the heartbeat, etc., don't really mean that you get to bring a baby home ...but I'm suddenly thinking of being hugely pregnant, who I want in the delivery room, and actually trying to fight my husband about parenting decisions like circumcision and stuff.
D a n g e r o u s. Cause umm...I'm seven weeks. Which in my world? Is the same as having sex this morning and claiming pregnancy this afternoon.

Ms. April had an absolutely astounding post about "Screaming on the Inside" and letting the world know about infertility that I've been thinking about all week. Because mostly? I'm really, really bad about that. Even in practice, there are very few of my patients that I know are dealing with infertility and/or recurrent pregnancy loss that I've opened up to at all. One mom, in particular, I feel particularly ashamed about. She's in her 40's ..and I don't even remember what she came in for ...but she mentioned how devastated she was that she didn't have the money to go through another IVF cycle. She was in a shared loss program, got pregnant with twins and lost them both at 22 weeks. She thought that she was going to get to do IVF again, but the clinic felt that she'd been "successful". Her version of success involved a live baby or two. I could sense how much she was hurting and still could not bring myself to open up to her. Every single time I come across a woman struggling on their own, I want to give them Stirrup Queen's blog address ..or Lost and Found ...and make them aware of this very supportive community, but I can't. That bums me out. It's not shame - I'm fairly certain of that. I think it's all still too fresh and painful for me to feel like I can get through it in a respectable manner.

But I'll try. In the end, that's all any of can do, right??

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Quick post

I have SO abandoned the internet and all blogs ...completely not intentional ....work life got crazy crazy.

Just wanted to mention that I gave up and finally had labs drawn this morning. Progesterone isn't back yet ..but beta hcg is 21,119 ...with a doubling time of 1.89 days ...and yes, I breathed a huge sigh of relief when that came off the fax machine today. I was up all night last night mostly sure that there was a dead embryo rotting in my uterus. Ultrasound and first OB appointment on Dec 2nd. If I make it that long ...I'm thinking I might have to order an ultrasound first.

A real post later ...and hopefully some decent blog comments for others ... :)

Saturday, November 15, 2008

This is my brain on progesterone

How my day went:

7:30: Wake up because of a screaming bladder. Can't get back to sleep.
9:00: Jump in the shower. Realize I'm totally out of deodorant. Borrow my husband's. Spend 20 minutes trying to put the burning fire under my arms out. Pee.
9:30: Lay down ..just for a sec while the flat iron is warming up
11:00 Wake up AGAIN ...holy crap I slept half the morning away. Pee.
11:30 Make lunch for everyone
12:30 Umm...nap. After I pee.
1:30 Go for a haircut ...cause it's been like 3 years or something since I've done that. Need to stop at the bank on the way there.
2:00 Haircut. Dammit. Forgot the bank. Pee between the cut and the blow dry cause I can't wait.
3:30 Go Grocery shopping. Avoid the meat aisle. Realize that I forgot to bring the movie with me to return. Forget to buy deodorant. Pee twice in the grocery store.
4:00 Husband calls ...needs some special sauce from a special store. Reminds me to stop on the way home.
4:05 Drive right by the special store and forget to get the special sauce. Forget to stop at the bank. Again. Leave the groceries in the car because I have to pee so bad.
5:00 Make dinner.
5:45 Leave the house for all of the stuff I forgot. Stop at the bank ..deposit checks. Go to the special store for special sauce ..get to the check out ..realize that I don't have my wallet because I took it out of my purse to deposit checks at the bank. Seriously?? Do I have Alzheimer's?
5:55 Realize I forgot the movie AGAIN.
6:00 Buy deodorant.
6:10 Stop at McDonald's and get a chocolate shake. Cause ...you know. Those are GREAT for PCOS pregnant women. Pee AGAIN.
6:20 Home. Pee. Nap.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Progesterone ...like a warm fuzzy blanket

Happy to report that my psychosis seems to have taken a vacation now that I've ingested all sorts of progesterone through various different orifices of my body. Seriously ...I feel like I had a bottle of Merlot or something I'm so chill. It was touchy for a while, though. I swear to God I drove to 4 different pharmacies only to be told at each one that the prescription had not been called in. At one of them? I almost went postal because *I* called the prescription in, dammit. Kind of hard to admit that to the pharmacy tech. I felt vaguely like a crack addict that couldn't find the goods for a good few hours. I finally called the friendly OB and explained my plight. She yelled at me ...which I apparently needed. Told me to relax or I was dooming myself to a colicky crabby stressed out baby. Laughed at me when I told her that if I thought it would help I would crush progesterone tabs and snort the powder like it was cocaine. I laughed and pretended I wasn't serious. The whole day I had Paul Simon singing "Save the life of my child ...cried the desperate mother..." in my head. Rather traumatizing when I realized that ALL of my symptoms including my aversion to meat were disappearing by the hour and there wasn't a progesterone suppository or prometrium capsule to be found. Rather silly now that I'm cuddled on the couch with all of the wretched nausea and sore boobies coming back.

I agreed to not test either my hcg or progesterone levels for a week. You know. For sanity's sake. The friendly OB had me get progesterone suppositories from a compounding pharmacy at a dose of 100 mg twice daily. She claims that it's enough because it's absorbed better than prometrium. She didn't argue when I told her that I needed to add a couple of prometrium caps in for good measure and my sanity. The weird thing? The super special suppositories are $100 for a month's supply and insurance doesn't pay for them. I don't mind paying but when I asked how some women could afford it? The OB said, "They can't. This is kind of an uptown problem." Ummm...that makes me sad. :(

I made a probably bad decision to tell the golden child today that she may or may not be having a sibling. I put myself on bedrest today as a precautionary measure and she couldn't figure out what the heck was going on. She has never known about any of the other pregnancies or losses ...and I cautioned her that this one might not make it. She's ecstatic at the possibility of a sibling ....her innocence is reassuring to me and I need to think all the good thoughts I possibly can. I hope it doesn't end in devastation for us both.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

My ovaries suck

Also entitled "Why you should be able to take xanax during pregnancy".

My progesterone level today plummeted to 16. And my OB/Friend is out of town. So the nurse gave the lab results to her partner whose opinion was that yes, I probably need progesterone supplement ...but felt that because the progesterone level was still normal, it could wait until tomorrow when the friendly OB gets back into town. Beta HCG is still doubling ..but barely..with a doubling time of 2.2 days and a number just over 2000. Totally not impressive for 5 weeks 2 days.

I've been frantically searching the Internet for how to dose progesterone supplement in early pregnancy because I'm totally NOT above calling in the meds for myself. And I'm seriously considering taking orals, progesterone in oil shots AND the vajayjay suppositories.

I've decided that I'll make my millions developing an anxiety med that can be taken during pregnancy ...because although I don't need it otherwise? When I'm pregnant and my stupid ovaries forget to nourish the baby I feel like a paranoid lunatic. I don't know that I'll make it through miscarriage number 4.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Nausea in the Grocery Aisles

Morning sickness, it seems, has hit me. And since I don't actually have the results of the latest beta, I'm assuming it is a good thing.

But if you live in Michigan? Consider this a warning.

I've had some very mild queasiness here and there ...of the "oh that's so cute" kind of variety. Unpleasant ..but not so much that it ruins your day. On Thursday, however, during a lunch proffered by a drug rep that I had never met before, all of that changed. He and the office girls were quipping about gross patient stories and someone mentioned chewing snot that gets coughed up. And I puked. At the table. And ..if you're curious? Jack Daniel's chicken from Fridays is delicious going down the first time and not so much when it makes an unexpected return.

Yesterday, I was intent on making dinner even though I was more than a little nauseated and set to scrambling some ground sirloin. Raw meat? Just as good of a trigger. There's like ...NO warning. I've never smelled anything that resembled dead rotting flesh more. And I've worked in a cemetery. Got an instant headache and went to bed. For the night. At 7:30. Yes. My Saturday nights are all kinds of wild and shexy.

The grand finale, however? I ran to the grocery store tonight for some things that my husband forgot and puked all over the floor in the carnage ..er... meat ...aisle. Holy wall of nastiness that I walked into. I'm sure the people in the aisle with me were equally as thrilled.

As I got back in the car with my waiting husband I must have looked like death warmed over. I retold the story ..and he said, "You begged for this! Prayed! This is what you wanted!"

And it is. Exactly.

Thursday, November 6, 2008


I'm going to pretend that this is right ..and that the women out there posting betas in the 20,000's at the exact same stage of pregnancy are all having septuplets.

What you don't know . . .

Every time I'm pregnant I think about previous pregnancies. When I got my beta and progesterone back today...I almost immediately flashed to the night of the golden child's delivery. Hindsight being what it is, I went through all of the things that went wrong or were missed and how I ended up sitting in Labor & Delivery 3 weeks early with a monster sized child. At the ultrasound earlier in the day, the OB said, "Congratulations! You have a moose!" and estimated her weight at 10 pounds with give or take a pound either way. No warning ...no ..umm..she's on the big side ..maybe we should check your labs. I had passed my glucose tolerance test with flying colors and *never* missed an appointment. Ever. They sent me over to be induced immediately. I know now there is no way that child got that huge without me having gestational diabetes. Undiagnosed. Untreated. Unless you count the milkshakes I was downing on a nearly daily basis ...because yumm. Anyway. I sat there as a barely 20 year old, alone with my mom, when the midwife came in to consent me for the induction. She was 2 weeks behind me in pregnancy. During the consent, she asked if the MD had talked to me about shoulder dystocia, the baby getting stuck, risks of vaginally delivering a monster child. And I was like ..umm..no. He said to come here. So she talked to me about the risks and benefits. The options. Do I want to have a section with no labor? I had dreams of an all natural birth. That's why I saw a certified nurse midwife the whole way through ..but the more she talked, the more scared I got. I eventually said, "What would you do?" And her response seriously angered me. She said, "I'm not the right person to ask. I know EVERYTHING that can go wrong. I can't really give you an unbiased opinion." I ended up having a c-section with no labor and no trials about 2 hours later. The baby was 9 pounds 11 ounces. The C-section was the worst experience of my life. The baby's glucose plummeted into the 20's immediately after birth which got her whisked away to the nursery and away from me. I very nearly bled out. I was on pitocin for 2 days after the birth and miserable. I was livid for years ...felt like the person I was supposed to trust led me astray and robbed me of my ideal birthing experience.

But now? I understand. I get it. I don't know that if I were in the same position that I could have said anything different than what she told me. If I had known of stillbirth, and birth trauma, and all of the possibilities that seemed like they happened to other people? I don't think I would have been able to say, "Hey ..let's give this birth plan a try!"

Knowledge is scary and awful. With that first pregnancy? When I was young and in college and no where near ready? I was never, not for a minute scared. I didn't worry about betas or ultrasounds or a touch of spotting here and there. The pregnancy, for all the stress surrounding it, was my safe place. It was blissful. That's not something that I will ever get back.

Every moment of this and the past 2 pregnancies has been terrifying. I stood up today and felt a ripping pain in my low abdomen. Lasted about 10 seconds but I'm still mostly convinced it was something awful.

My beta yesterday doubled. JUST doubled at 239.

Progesterone dropped a little to 26.6 but still well within normal ...and I got tested at a different time of the day so the variability is somewhat expected.

The 239?? Terrifies me. Grow baby. Please grow. Please don't be growing in a tube.

More blood tomorrow ...ultrasound on Monday.

Seems strange to be happily married ...with a gorgeous family ..in a beautiful house ...surrounded by a white picket fence ...and longing for the days when I was young and alone. And blissfully ignorant.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Beta Beta Bo Beta

I could very nearly be put in jail this week.

I went for my beta and progesterone level yesterday ...and drove to a lab 25 minutes away from the lab in MY OFFICE because they swore that I would get the results on the same day. And yesterday? At 9 pm? When they still weren't back? I could have almost killed someone.

Because ..I didn't make it a week without the crazy paranoia. Dead baby thoughts are driving me crazy. And not slowly, either. Other than breasts that may or not be more sore than normal, I don't have a single symptom. And I'm sort of obsessively looking for them, too.

So anyway ...after I waited an hour and forty minutes to vote this morning - which was awesome, by the way - I called and had my labs faxed to the office and then frantically tried to hide them from the office staff. The flipping RN found it on the fax anyway and had the nerve to say, "Why would you do this? You know you have too many issues to carry to term?" Umm..seriously bitch? Are you looking to get fired today? Or just have a death wish?

Beta ..a not incredibly overwhelming but not heartbreaking 112. Progesterone ...a not too shabby 38. Especially when you consider I'm the girl that this very same month had a level two hundredths of a point higher than menopause. We're talking less than 1.

Did that stop me from peeing on 3 sticks today to try and analyze if they were turning a darker pink faster than the test before? Not so much.

I go in tomorrow for a repeat beta and progesterone and doubling time. I expect I might have to slit my wrist to distract me from the paranoia of waiting an entire day to get results. GAWD. I think I'm going to print some "dead baby mama" stickers to put on all of my labs and charts to alert people to the psychosis they may be causing.

Friday, October 31, 2008

Trick or Treat

The last couple of days, my temp has been crazy high. Like 99.8 high. Basal. So I've been thinking that I either have a triphasic basal temp chart ....or lymphoma. I kind of feel equally convinced of either. I woke up this morning and temp'd. 99.9. Hmm. Woke up ...got in the shower and immediately started gagging. Which made me soooo incredibly happy. But then I thought ...well. I guess that could be a lymphoma thing too.

I went to work at the second job today ..and felt sooo blessed. Because I only had 8 patients scheduled instead of the normal 27 - and they had blocked my schedule to get me out early to get ready for Halloween. Very nice treat that I wasn't even close to expecting! All day at work I had sort of a low crampy/cervical pain type thing going on and what I was sure was going to be AF showing up. So. That sucked pretty much all day. Clearly lymphoma or something else to give me a long lasting low grade fever.

I came home to a very excited teenager that was dressing up like a gothic girl. Complete with spray painted black hair, black nails, black lipstick, and about 25 fake piercings in her nose, lips, ears, eyebrows, etc. I helped her get started and decided to POAS. Just as the test started running, she knocked on the door to ask for help. So ..I threw the test in a drawer and started helping her with her hair and make-up ..thinking how grateful I was that this is a costume for her and not her life. So not her life that she thinks it's an outrageous costume, even. I laughed to myself at how goofy it is to be getting a teenager ready for Halloween at the same time I'm eagerly testing for pregnancy. She ran out to get her skeleton tights ...and I opened the drawer.

Apparently? I only need to call a reproductive endocrinologist to get knocked up. Well ...theres the clomid and OPKs and the crazy amounts of sex that happened, but I'm still convinced it was the call that did it. I might call him (the RE) and pay him the $14,000 anyway.

Positive. 10 days post ovulation. Really, really positive. Don't have to squint to see it positive. I was so immediately shocked and giddy that I slammed the door back shut when she walked in and couldn't stop laughing. She, of course, thinks I'm crazy. And she's mostly right.

But today? Today I am happy. Really honest to God happy. I'm not going to think about the babies that we have lost. I'm not going to think about the ones that haven't made it. I'm going to feel hopeful and wonderful and excited about the life inside me right now. Tonight I'm going to hand out candy to incredibly cute monsters and let myself think about next Halloween.

We'll save crazy paranoia for next week.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Sticks and stones

To add to my list of issues? Peeing on sticks obsessively and being absolutely thrilled and crushed on a 2 or 3 times daily basis as I watch lines appear and then evaporate.

Why do we torture ourselves with this craziness?? Admittedly, I'm worst than most. Because umm...it's cheap for me. I purchased 100 pregnancy tests for like ...$15 through the office. I know that will make a lot of you hate me ...but it's truly an awful thing. I'm thinking that I'm not pregnant - although temperature, OPK, and timing wise it's probably still too early to test. My breasts hurt and ache and feel soooo incredibly painful like they haven't in years. I've been slightly nauseated here and there but nothing I'd write home about. I do have a fairly persistent ache in my right lower quadrant which I'm diagnosing as cyst or endo or something and not entertaining the idea of ectopic. But anyway.

I've literally tested for pregnancy 3 times a day for the last several days.

Because ..as stated earlier? I'm full on crazy people. But not if you're one of my patients. Then I'm totally sane. I swear. Totally. Sane.

I would laugh my ass off at a patient if they did this stuff because seriously ...how can I be that stupid and still have a fairly respectable job? I *know* how this crap works ..but I still test. And still feel soooooo incredibly amazing for the 30 seconds or so that the test looks like it might be positive. And then so incredibly sad and lost and hopeless when it's not. And then I repeat the process in 4 or 5 hours just for the fun of it.

I shouldn't officially test until Halloween. But obviously? I enjoy torture.

Thursday, October 23, 2008


How do you know if you're crazy? When you have complete conversations with yourself?

My favorite thoughts today:

1. "My nips are definitely sore ....ovulation and the presence of the long missing progesterone?? Could it possibly be from pregnancy ???? How exciting would that be??"

2. "Maybe your nips are sore from you checking to see if they're sore every 15 1/2 seconds."

Monday, October 20, 2008

Cycle Day 23

I went for my Day 21 Progesterone level even though I knew that I did not ovulate. Because I knew that I did not ovulate, I was only about 80% completely devastated when the progesterone level came back two hundredths of a point higher than a level that would classify me as being in menopause. Seriously. Two hundredths of a single point.

My body is goofy so I continued to OPK thinking that for some reason maybe I would ovulate later than I was supposed to. And today? I had the most ridiculously positive OPK that I've ever seen. So if I wake up in the morning and my temperature is up, I might schedule myself a stroke. Because we actually did have fairly well timed sex.

What makes me sad in all this? The utter relief that I feel at even the very slightest chance of leaving infertility behind. I could literally feel the tension roll of my shoulders at the idea that I may possibly have ovulated. I think I'm going to take a deep breath and relax with that feeling for a while. I'm not even going to entertain the idea of recurrent miscarriage for like ...two weeks even.

And ...just for my record ...and in case it works (hope will kill me yet)....my regimen this month:

Metformin 1 gram twice daily
Cinnamon 2 grams twice daily
Vitex twice daily
Clomid 100 mg cycle days 5-9
Aspirin 81 mg daily
Mucinex 600 mg twice daily

Monday, October 13, 2008


I am fortunate enough to have established a wonderful relationship with my mentor. She taught me what it meant to be a nurse practitioner. Taught me how to embrace being a *nurse* when I felt like I was functioning like a physician ...and how to combine the rolls. She retired after a recurrence of ovarian cancer, and I took over her job. She's doing well now - but besides the job, she also left me the vast majority of her books that remain in what is now my office. She was a very earthy not quite granola crunchy kind of health care provider and I loved it. A couple of months ago, I had a rare break between patients, and picked up a book to help pass the time: Womens Bodies, Women's Wisdom. I nearly immediately flipped to the chapter on infertility, and got pissed. Like ...raving lunatic MAD. The line that set me off:

"On a personal level, many women do not get pregnant because in their hearts they really do not want to - they are afraid of the demands a child will make on them."

Also? This:

"In one study, women who were unsuccessful with fertility treatments were found to be more successful in the outer world than those who conceived....Many infertile women are working sixty to eighty hours per week and are exhausted; then they pursue having a child as though they were writing a Ph.D. dissertation."

Most of the chapter speaks to the causes of infertility. The author is fairly adamant that a big part of infertility is the infertile's indecision regarding whether or not she is ready for and truly wants a child. That much of infertility is somehow resolved when the individual figures out the conflict. She also talks about a lot of other psychological factors. My initial thought was to rip the pages of the book out and have a book burning party. But after stewing on the subject for ...I don't know ..a couple of months, I'm kind of perplexed.

Because maybe ...I am ambiguous about it.

I do wonder how I will manage a very busy career and a newborn. When I had the golden child, I was fortunate enough to work for my dad in a family owned business. I was essentially a stay at home single mom for 2 very blissful years. I don't know how to do it any other way. I don't know if I could drop a newborn off at daycare, pump all day, and be okay with the role conflict at the end of the day. I also worry about my relationship with my husband. Because of his medical issues, he's not entirely gung-ho about the baby thing. He's worried that he won't be around long enough. I'm also terrified of that ...but not in the same way. I tend to worry more about random accidents and sudden death that I do his particular health issue ...but he's the one that spent the day in the ER with a near death experience yesterday. I worry about finances. I worry about going back to sleeplessness. I worry about the total selflessness that occurs with a newborn when my 13 year old is pretty much on auto-pilot now. My soul aches for the overwhelming love you feel for a child that is moving inside you. I ache to share the experience with my husband because I did it all by myself the first time. I need for him to know the type of love that a parent feels for their child. I wonder if some of my behaviors aren't self-destructive. You know...like ...threatening divorce every time I take Clomid. And not exercising enough. And not eating the right foods and not avoiding the wrong foods.

I am ambiguous. I am infertile. But ....am I infertile because I feel ambiguous?? I hope not.

I hate ambiguity.

Cycle Day 16 .....and Luck

Or the lack thereof.

Can I just say something? I think God hates me. Personally. Like ...on a really serious level.

I'm still OPK negative which pisses me off all by itself what with the swollen ovaries and pain and such. Except that yesterday, while I was 180 miles away at my sister's for a nephew's birthday party, my husband, while grocery shopping, was suddenly carted off by ambulance to the emergency room nearly in a coma. When I found out? My first thought ..please let him be okay. My second thought? When I knew he was okay? Damn it. This is totally going to throw off the every other day sex that is required in this baby making process.

And that ....is why God hates me.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Where's Darwin when you need him?

I stayed home from work today. I have a yucky nasty cold and my right ovary feels like it might be approaching the size of a small cantaloupe. Yay for me. The thing is ...I wouldn't normally cancel a days worth of patients for a cold but I'm crabby and somewhat sad. So ...I stayed home and curled up on the floor with a heating pad, comforter, a cuddly puppy and some pillows. The bad decision I made? Watching reruns of maternity ward on Discovery Health Channel. What the hell happened to survival of the fittest? The first episode was filmed at a hospital that I worked at in my former life. Mom #1 ....a crack/marijuana addict who smoked until the day of delivery and delivered a crack addicted baby. Mom #2...obviously cognitively challenged and homeless delivered a baby with a massive skull deformity that will need a lifetime of special care and someone that knows how to handle him. At age 48, people. 48. I can't even wrap my mind around how a 48 year old not incredibly sexy looking homeless woman has SEX much less conceives unassisted.

People laugh at me when I say that my daughter is as perfect as I could hope for. They think I'm bragging - but I swear I'm not. Even at 13, she is wonderful and caring and doesn't step a toe out of line. She was the ideal infant (if you minus the fact that she didn't sleep through the night until she was 3. Years.). I guess I always figured that God gave me what he felt like I was able to handle. Because as a 20 year old single mom, it would have taken something just slightly less than perfection for me to lose it. But then, if that's true? What about these women? And their children? My heart breaks for them just as it does for the hundreds of women that write blogs to ease the pain of infertility and loss. It just seems so out of balance to me. How can a crack addicted mother care for a crack addicted infant with a good outcome for either of them? If Darwin is right, and survival of the species depends on natural selection - something has gone horribly wrong in our civilized world.

Monday, October 6, 2008

Holy Hot Flashes

Otherwise titled .....I decided to clomid this cycle.

Which ...realistically, was probably not a great idea timing-wise. I chose a week that I had hospital call (translated: an 80 hour work week) to intentionally make myself psychotic. And by chose I mean that my completely unpredictable cycle decided to start itself during the worst week of the month possible. So ...most of my weekend went something like this:

At the hospital:

Me: Tell me about what brought you to the hospital?

Unsuspecting patient: I blah blah blah life threatening symptom.

Me: Did you ever have anything that felt like blah? (I'm fairly certain that the hospital may have just turned the heat on. It was supposed to be cold this weekend. I think they might have misjudged it a little).

Unsuspecting patient: Why yes! I did have that symptom that means I need to head directly to the angiography suite to have a clot removed from my brain before I become a vegetable!

Me: Fantastic! Let me go (get completely naked and bathe in ice water and then) arrange that for you (because clearly we are both very near to death as I have developed a fever of approximately 112 degrees in the last five minutes!)

At home after working 80 hours and perhaps not in the most relaxed state of mind:

Husband: What do you want for dinner?
Daughter: I'm starving!
Me: I seriously would have thought that the two of you could have figured SOMETHING out without me this weekend because I am obviously the most important person in the household and have been slaving all weekend and you both pretty much just suck for not kissing my feet and greeting me with roses.

So yeah ...Clomid. Aside from a touch of irritability, hotflashes that literally feel like they may have come from hell, and a visit from the long missing libido - Clomid has gone fairly well so far. Heheh....I haven't even threatened divorce. Yet. I still have those two pills to swallow tonight though ...give me some time. And then my life will be ruled by the scheduled peeing on sticks (of the OPK variety). I'm also contemplating calling the friend OB/Gyn to schedule myself a date with the dildo cam ovary check ultrasound and then possibly blackmailing her for an HCG trigger shot which I have never done before! Baby by blackmail? Does that sound healthy for the intended new life?

Sunday, September 28, 2008


I have issues. Seriously? More than Cosmo.

Today is Cycle Day 1 ....and the real question is ...to Clomid or not to Clomid. I've come to the conclusion that a huge part of my infertility issue is likely that I've almost entirely self-managed it. Medically and otherwise. Yes, I have an OB/Gyn. But she is my friend and I think perhaps gives me too much independence in what I'm doing. Because I literally diagnosed myself ...ordered the ultrasound ...called her and gave her the results. Told her I wanted met ...then clomid. Called her when I was pregnant. Curled up in her office when there was no longer a heartbeat. So ...she knows...but I think she's not as strict with me because we are friends. As in ...I very strongly suspect that I have endometriosis that is likely intertwined with my right ovary ..but umm...I haven't told her about that. And I think that I probably need an exploratory lap, and she would likely do it ..but umm...I feel weird asking. Hey....did you want to go get some coffee later?? No? How about cutting up my insides and having a look around?

SOOOOOOOOO ....I finally called and made an appointment with an RE. Which I HATE. I hate the idea of an RE because I know that we really cannot afford IVF. And IUI with controlled hyperstimulation makes me think of Jon & Kate. And I am NOT Kate. I also hate it because I live in a relatively small town ...and I don't want everyone in town to know whether or not I shave. But time is tick tick tick ticking away. And ...because of my issues ...I've hidden from the problem. So ...I have an appointment next month to get things officially looked at. And I'm totally going to lie about what I do for a living ...cause I want to pretend that I'm clueless and totally NOT direct any of my care for once. I'm taking opinions on what I should pretend I do for a living. I need time to build the character.

See?? I told you!! I have issues!! I'm already trying to figure out how to lie to my next doctor.

But still. I have this prescription for Clomid ...which would be round 4 of the lifetime allowable 6. And today is cycle day 1. So do I chew em up like they're sweet tarts? Or do I wait until I know that anything that needs to be fixed is fixed?

I swear I hate Clomid. Like ...really seriously hate it. I hate it so much I probably need to have IUI with Clomid because it turns me into a raging psycho woman that threatens to divorce her otherwise fairly normal and lovable husband. Because seriously?? It's really hard to have a lot of sex when you're feeling hateful and acting like a psycho. And I have seriously ovulated on Clomid before and not even attempted to have sex because I hated him so much that day.

Issues, I tell you!

tick. tick. tick. tick. tick. tick. tick.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008


I have two jobs. Well ...two jobs that actually pay me. In the first, I work primarily with patients that have multiple sclerosis. Heartbreaking. Terrifying. Challenging. Incredibly Rewarding. Stressful. The second job is mostly primary care regular doctor office stuff. Except that I work with probably one of the very few remaining family physicians that still delivers babies. And so ...I also do prenatal visits and "how do I get preggers" visits and newborn visits and lactation consulting. And what I'm finding? I'm getting bitter. I usually feel like I'm pretty good at what I do. I remember not so long ago that a woman would come in desperately sad that she hadn't gotten pregnant in the previous year and within a couple of weeks she'd have a diagnosis and a few weeks after that a BFP pee stick and beta. My heart would soar ...I would be so thrilled. And then ..in the last two weeks I've had two patients call to say that the medicine worked and they were going to be moms. I felt ....well ....jealous. And mean. And awful. Cause ummm? That's not how your health care provider should feel about your good news. And then when they come in and all day long I hear perfect fluttering fetal tones? I'm awful. It should still fill me with awe and wonder and hope and joy. But I feel like I should buy contacts to hide the green in my eyes.

What I know is this: I soon need to make a decision. I either push for IVF with a husband that doesn't really want it or decide that there will be no other baby. I don't want the kind of karma I'm putting out now.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

A long time ago

In the beginning, I was an almost 18 year old freshman at an Ivy League University. I was full of naivety, hope, and ready to change the world. And ...I had been admitted to med school as a freshman in undergrad. It was kind of a big deal. I felt like I was kind of a big deal. I certainly had big plans for the future which involved third world countries and the peace corps. A couple of years later, I found myself unexpectedly pregnant and unwilling to be a mom and a medical student at the same time. And then suddenly, the force of my naivety hit me when I discovered the awful secret about the baby's father and I was alone. I have vivid memories of rocking and nursing her in those first few months - promising to us both that someday we would have everything that we were supposed to. The beautiful home, the outrageously big back yard full of play equipment. Everything made safe by a white picket fence. Siblings to keep her company when she was old and I was gone. A dad for her that would love her as his own. A husband that I would somehow be able to trust after being traumatized. I spent hours planning our future, somehow feeling that if I did everything right she would be alright without a dad. She would thrive with my decision to exclude him from her life. I made lists. And more lists. Crossed off tasks one by one, week by week, sometimes year by year. I finished my undergraduate degree and started saving money. I started and finished a Master's degree. I thought and planned and planned some more.

And now ....I am here. Thirteen years later, I am finally here. Career? Check. The beautiful house? Check. The dad for my amazing daughter? Check. The husband that I love? Check. The trust that I didn't think could ever come back? Check. The backyard? Check. The most amazing maintenance free white picket fence I've ever seen? Check. The so-far perfect and apparently perfectly unscathed teenager? Check. The siblings to keep her company? Not so much. Self-diagnosed PCOS and three miscarriages? Umm....wait. That wasn't on my list.

Guess that white picket fence doesn't protect us from everything.

Monday, September 1, 2008

alternative lives ...

I thought of you you this week ...up north. I thought of what our lives could have been if we had stayed together. Although I never brought you to this place, your ghost enveloped me while I was there. The lake ....perfect for fishing. The lack of cell phone access...dreamlike in your world. The mountain bike trails ...the waterfalls ...the hiking ...all things that I shared with you in our time together. And here I am ...with your ghost ...and my 13 year old daughter who remembers the first time you took her fishing. My husband more than 200 miles away at home alone - because he hates this outdoor world. Wondering how....in all of my planning I missed....this. I am here alone with my daughter ..desperate to shape her life into someone who loves the outdoors and isn't desolate without the ability to send 400 text messages a day. How did I miss that marrying someone else would mean that he would shape her life so much. That he would become not only part of me ....but part of her. I wonder ...for a few seconds ....did I make the right choice? Is this life for her right? Would she have been happier in this other, alternate life? Would I?

We drive 25 minutes into town ...mostly for cell phone access... and call home. He answers ...everything is fine ..the dog is here ...i miss you ...wish you were here ...and the pull that I feel? Overwhelming. No way I can live a second longer without being with you and I've only been gone 3 days and what am I 16? cancel the rest of the vacation and drive home to be with you kind of pull. And then I know ....there was never another alternative.