This has honestly been the hardest 18 months (WOW, 18 months, now!?...) of my life, but I do have things to be thankful for.
1. My rock, partner, and number one fan (and I am his), my husband, BJ. I love you, BJ, and I would never have gotten this far without you! Thank you for choosing me!
2. My family which has been such an amazing support. Never doubting, never questioning and always just asking, "What can we do?"
3. Friends that have texted, called, commented just to say they were thinking about us. I cannot emphasize to you enough how much that helps us, especially me. I've cherished every single one.
4. Emma Grace our awful, terrible, no good, but completely lovable golden retriever puppy. She is everything I could ever ask for in a companion. She snuggles, she kisses, she doesn't chew on us as much anymore and she loves us to the point of pain. It's amazing.
5. Fuzzy socks for giving me some sense of security during all these compromising procedures. They're awesome for bed rest days, too.
6. Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup...My comfort food and easy on tummies that are upset due to emotional trauma, hormonal surges and what have you.
7. Leggings which are great for wearing when your tummy is sore and bloated from stimulation medication. Please stay in style at least until after I have a baby!!!
8. Parlodel - the medicine that at least gave us a fighting chance.
9. The Fertility Center - for being the most amazing medical practitioners I've ever met. The caring, compassion, empathy and hope you've shown me is above and beyond any I've experienced in a medical practice.
10. Hope, it's always there as long as I have breath. I am thankful that I have hope.
So, it's with this post that I tell you our news...
Until today, I thought that nothing could be worse than a negative pregnancy test. It turns out there is. I am pregnant, but my numbers are miserably low, and I should expect to miscarry at any time. Right now, though, there is a baby inside me that has implanted. I'm supposed to be happy that I know I can conceive, but it's sure a bitter pill to swallow.
There are three possibilities. One, I am pregnant with a miracle of modern medicine, and that I make it until Monday and my HCG levels have sky-rocketed. Back in reality-world the best case scenario is this is an ectopic pregnancy which means it implanted somewhere outside of my uterus, usually in a Fallopian tube. If this is the case, it means that we had a healthy embryo that just wound up in the wrong place. All I have to hope for is that I don't bleed to death if it ruptures. Not likely to occur since we are monitoring it so early and it takes weeks for the embryo to become big enough to do damage. (Still, helluva best-case scenario, huh?) Or, and most likely, I'm having what they call a chemical pregnancy. Due to whatever factor, be it my body rejecting the embryo, or a congenital abnormality, it's a doomed pregnancy.
What is this doomed beta level you ask? Well, anything over 5 is considered positive, but they are wanting to see it over 50 at this point in my...well, it is what it is...pregnancy. Mine is:
...
...
...
...
8.67
That is eight point six seven. Not eight hundred and sixty-seven. It is abysmal. It is nature playing a cruel joke. It's beyond unfair.
It's rather uninspiring to think that there is something genetically wrong with this embryo considering it's the best we've ever had. It's frustrating beyond all get-out to know I won't know anymore until after Monday. I don't know when I'll be able to discuss anything with Dr. Donesky due to the holiday. So basically I'm just waiting for my baby to die. I hope that sounds as awful as it feels. It hurts like Hell. The only thing I can say this time, is that at least I can honestly and legitimately say I have had a miscarriage. This is a lot easier for other people to sympathize with. I was told by someone that I should not be upset about my failed cycle because, "It wasn't like I'd lost anything." Clearly the money, time, hope, angst, and 17 embryos that started out the same way you and I did, don't count for anything. Sigh...
As one IVF expert says, chemical pregnancies are the dark cloud with a silver lining. I'll be the first to admit that I've always said, 'At least I would know it could happen.' Well, check, that's out of the way. I can officially say I've been pregnant. It's the best result we've gotten so far. Not near as comforting as I thought it would be.
There was a fleeting moment this morning when I was over the moon. I thought I was going to be somebody's mama. I thought that I had a viable little one that I would be holding in my arms in August. I AM thankful that I had a taste of it. I'm going to need that feeling to get me through the next while, I guess.
So despite my tragedy, I'm planning on being thankful for what I do have. I still have options. I'm thankful that my friends don't have to suffer through this Hell. I'm thankful that Dr. Donesky will be there for me next week to come up with a plan. I'm thankful for my parents who'll let me come home and cry without telling me to, "move on." In spite of it all, I'm thankful for the baby I have inside me now. Thanks for giving me a chance. I'll love you forever.
Peace, Love and Thanks to my little one,
Mary Katherine
1. My rock, partner, and number one fan (and I am his), my husband, BJ. I love you, BJ, and I would never have gotten this far without you! Thank you for choosing me!
2. My family which has been such an amazing support. Never doubting, never questioning and always just asking, "What can we do?"
3. Friends that have texted, called, commented just to say they were thinking about us. I cannot emphasize to you enough how much that helps us, especially me. I've cherished every single one.
4. Emma Grace our awful, terrible, no good, but completely lovable golden retriever puppy. She is everything I could ever ask for in a companion. She snuggles, she kisses, she doesn't chew on us as much anymore and she loves us to the point of pain. It's amazing.
5. Fuzzy socks for giving me some sense of security during all these compromising procedures. They're awesome for bed rest days, too.
6. Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup...My comfort food and easy on tummies that are upset due to emotional trauma, hormonal surges and what have you.
7. Leggings which are great for wearing when your tummy is sore and bloated from stimulation medication. Please stay in style at least until after I have a baby!!!
8. Parlodel - the medicine that at least gave us a fighting chance.
9. The Fertility Center - for being the most amazing medical practitioners I've ever met. The caring, compassion, empathy and hope you've shown me is above and beyond any I've experienced in a medical practice.
10. Hope, it's always there as long as I have breath. I am thankful that I have hope.
So, it's with this post that I tell you our news...
Until today, I thought that nothing could be worse than a negative pregnancy test. It turns out there is. I am pregnant, but my numbers are miserably low, and I should expect to miscarry at any time. Right now, though, there is a baby inside me that has implanted. I'm supposed to be happy that I know I can conceive, but it's sure a bitter pill to swallow.
There are three possibilities. One, I am pregnant with a miracle of modern medicine, and that I make it until Monday and my HCG levels have sky-rocketed. Back in reality-world the best case scenario is this is an ectopic pregnancy which means it implanted somewhere outside of my uterus, usually in a Fallopian tube. If this is the case, it means that we had a healthy embryo that just wound up in the wrong place. All I have to hope for is that I don't bleed to death if it ruptures. Not likely to occur since we are monitoring it so early and it takes weeks for the embryo to become big enough to do damage. (Still, helluva best-case scenario, huh?) Or, and most likely, I'm having what they call a chemical pregnancy. Due to whatever factor, be it my body rejecting the embryo, or a congenital abnormality, it's a doomed pregnancy.
What is this doomed beta level you ask? Well, anything over 5 is considered positive, but they are wanting to see it over 50 at this point in my...well, it is what it is...pregnancy. Mine is:
...
...
...
...
8.67
That is eight point six seven. Not eight hundred and sixty-seven. It is abysmal. It is nature playing a cruel joke. It's beyond unfair.
It's rather uninspiring to think that there is something genetically wrong with this embryo considering it's the best we've ever had. It's frustrating beyond all get-out to know I won't know anymore until after Monday. I don't know when I'll be able to discuss anything with Dr. Donesky due to the holiday. So basically I'm just waiting for my baby to die. I hope that sounds as awful as it feels. It hurts like Hell. The only thing I can say this time, is that at least I can honestly and legitimately say I have had a miscarriage. This is a lot easier for other people to sympathize with. I was told by someone that I should not be upset about my failed cycle because, "It wasn't like I'd lost anything." Clearly the money, time, hope, angst, and 17 embryos that started out the same way you and I did, don't count for anything. Sigh...
As one IVF expert says, chemical pregnancies are the dark cloud with a silver lining. I'll be the first to admit that I've always said, 'At least I would know it could happen.' Well, check, that's out of the way. I can officially say I've been pregnant. It's the best result we've gotten so far. Not near as comforting as I thought it would be.
There was a fleeting moment this morning when I was over the moon. I thought I was going to be somebody's mama. I thought that I had a viable little one that I would be holding in my arms in August. I AM thankful that I had a taste of it. I'm going to need that feeling to get me through the next while, I guess.
So despite my tragedy, I'm planning on being thankful for what I do have. I still have options. I'm thankful that my friends don't have to suffer through this Hell. I'm thankful that Dr. Donesky will be there for me next week to come up with a plan. I'm thankful for my parents who'll let me come home and cry without telling me to, "move on." In spite of it all, I'm thankful for the baby I have inside me now. Thanks for giving me a chance. I'll love you forever.
Peace, Love and Thanks to my little one,
Mary Katherine
"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow."
~Melody Beattie
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