Lightning Strikes Twice

For some reason, I recently have kept running into Ben Franklin's definition of insanity. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome. Oh, Ben (or Albert Einstein, depending upon which website you reference) how right you were.
image: Shivayanamahohm
If by trying to get pregnant, over and over again, and then getting pregnant and miscarrying over and over again we can be said to be insane, then today's karyotype result for this second miscarriage seals the deal: it was yet another monosomy. Two random chromosomal miscarriages in a row. If I had this luck in the lottery, I would be a rich woman.

We have an appointment with Dr. Uterus to discuss the results next Tuesday. I am particularly annoyed that he had told us numerous times before that it was highly unlikely that we would have another monosomy. I think he needs to just stop giving us predictions because each of them have not turned out in our favor. Sweetie will be with me, so he can keep me from being a harpie while trying to get answers out of our very nice RE who's optimism keeps smacking me upside the head.

I'm just afraid that I know the answer that Dr. Uterus will give us: it was completely random, there's nothing we can do about it and nothing we can do to prevent it in the future. I don't know how many more times I can stand having a miscarriage, let alone one for a random chromosomal event that isn't supposed to happen every time I get pregnant. How does lightening strike in the same place over and over again. Is it insane or are we for standing in the same location?

I haven't been able to find any real statistics on how common (or uncommon) it is to have it twice in a row. I know that it is the most common of all chromosomal abnormalities, but that alone is no longer particularly helpful. Has anyone had two monosomy miscarriages in a row or know someone who has?

Raising the Stakes

Oh, my friends, thanks for continuing to follow the week-by-week saga that is my life. Thank you for all of your good thoughts, encouragement and general love. And, thanks for indulging me in the wild mood swings that accompany this particular rollercoaster. As you can tell, I'm pretty focused on one topic so I apologize in advance for the monotony that has become this blog. But, then again, like many of you, I started this blog to have an outlet for my feelings about one subject, so I guess this is completely in keeping with the MO of this blog. And, the rest of my life is extremely boring compared to this, so you probably wouldn't really want to hear about it anyway.

We go back on Thursday to get the latest look at how this pregnancy is progressing. It's been much harder this week to expect the worst given that last week had relatively encouraging news. I wasn't even expecting there to be a heart beat and we got that and a week's worth of growth.

An unintended consequence of this has been that now the stakes have been raised. Not only did we get another week, but hearing the heartbeat again gives (possibly false) hope that we might make it further. And what if there still is a heartbeat, but the growth has slowed this week? For as agonizing as last week was, I had the luxury of assuming that there were only two paths forward. It has now become more complex.

It's also hard not to begin to stop thinking of it as a pregnancy and start thinking of a little being. I had such a hard time when I learned that I was having a miscarriage last year in part because we had thought of the pregnancy as a baby. We had our special name for it and I indulged in reading the week-by-week updates from various pregnancy sites about its development. I've avoided this - I think that by thinking about it as a pregnancy, not as a baby, it may be easier if things go south (as we are still anticipating). Whether this will work is a totally different story.

Each week that we get development and relatively encouraging news, it gets harder and harder to make our negative assumptions about the outcome. In the end, I just try not to think about it, but inevitably, it sneaks and creeps in.
image: tadekk

You've Come A Long Way, Baby

I woke up this morning as I do every morning to the classical music station here in town. This morning's selection with which I was destined to wake up was rather inauspicious - a variation on Taps.

I headed to the shower, half-listening to the news on NPR, trying to prepare myself for what was to come. I shaved my legs and didn't give much thought to the loofah swipes over my stomach. I put on a favorite skirt, heels and a pretty green top. I always feel better when I look good, no matter what happens, and I was determined to do it right today.

Sweetie arrived around 8:45am to squire me to the appointment and we were kept waiting about 30 minutes after our appointed time to see Dr. Uterus. I skimmed through the new O magazine and could barely focus.

Finally, we got back to the room - the same room where almost a year ago he told me the terrible news of our first pregnancy - and in came Dr. Uterus. We dispensed with the pleasantries and (literally) got down to business.

The magical dildocam did its thing and there, right where we had left it, was our little phoenix.

Bigger. Growing. Little heart still beating away.

It is still measuring small for the time of the transfer. But, it has grown the appropriate amount since the last scan. It is now measuring 7w5d and I'm supposed to be around 8w1d. Phrases like "late implantation" were bandied about, but we still don't have a clue. It could also still be an abnormal pregnancy, which we are still accutely aware.

No celebrations yet, no partying in the streets. For now, we are looking at it this way: we've bought another week. I go back on Thursday, March 20.

Thanks to everyone for their wonderful thoughts - each one has touched me and brought me great comfort. No matter what happens in the end, I have been very much buoyed by all of you.

And, my, what an incredible story.

Which End is Up?

image: dominocat
I seriously still don't know if I'm coming or going. All of this, "you're pregnant, you're not pregnant, you're pregnant" business is just so confusing at a very basic level. What was good last week - booze, baths and brie - has once again become verboten this week. What was a sign of progress - spotting and cramping - has once again become a sign of terror (today's thrill was dark reddish brown. Whee!)

I also have to keep track of who knows of the latest development - and who still thinks that we miscarried. My parents - yes. His parents - no. My boss and most co-workers - yes. Semi-new employee - no. Friends - yes. Aunt and uncle - no. I almost have to start a list. We are waiting to tell some of these outlying people until next week's scan. No reason to get everyone worked up in a tizzy. Although, it certainly would be par for the course these days if I'm lying to at least one person about the state of my uterus.

There has been some good news, if you can call it that. The nausea that last week felt like just really bad indigestion has come roaring on like gangbusters. Although, I'm not treating this as the Sign of Signs since I had nasty nausea right up until Dr. Utuerus pronounced that the pregnancy had ended about 10 days earlier during our first miscarriage.

I feel like I've been spun around a few hundred times and I don't know where the sky ends and land begins.

What. The. F*ck.

image: JPhilipson
The parable of the phoenix is pretty straightforward. The phoenix dies in flames and is reborn out of the ashes. What does this have to do with me? Well, it would seem we have a little phoenix.

Where to start. I was just about to head out the door to catch my flight when the phone rang. I had blood drawn this morning to see how much my HCG had gone down since last Thursday (which was 10480). Rather than going down, the nurse told me it had actually gone up to about 28,000. That was the first WTF moment. She said that Dr. Uterus wanted to see me for an ultrasound as that was the protocol when the HCG goes up rather than down. I explained that I was just about to head out of town until the middle of next week. She put me on the line with Dr. Uterus and he started talking "ectopic." Well, he had me at ectopic. I so did not want to have some ectopic rupture away from home.

So, I called the boss, mentioned the word "ectopic", cancelled the first leg of the trip and headed in to Dr. Uterus' office fully desiring some type of answer to this very strange question. But, it just got weirder.

He starts wielding the dildocam and makes confused noises. I can't see anything since the monitor was turned away (and hey, I wasn't that eager to see). I asked him what was going on and he said:

"You're sac has gotten bigger, and you have a fetal pole and a heartbeat." WTF Moment #2.

I asked him if was kidding. And then he showed me. Sure as shit, there it was. He turned on the sound thing-y and there was a heartbeat, at about 124bpm. The fetus is measuring small for this time frame - 6w5d rather than 7w1d, but it was there and beating away.

I go back for another scan on Thursday, March 13. I'm also once again off booze, caffeine, etc. One small blessing is that I do not have to re-start the progesterone shots since my ovaries are apparently progesterone machines (the lab was still diluting the sample as of the call, so it was above 80 at least).

My main emotion is disbelief, followed by a close second of confusion and bewilderment. I'm also not getting excited either since we heard a heartbeat last time and it didn't work out.

Needless to say, given my history of travel and pregnancy, I cancelled the rest of my trip.