Well I haven't updated in awhile. Mainly because I was keeping a secret. On Mother's Day I found out we were pregnant. Our last treatment cycle worked! The best thing is my due date was 1/18/12. The same due date as my first baby, just 2 days later. That had to be a sign that things were going to be ok.
I had an US at 6w6d and there was indeed a wonderful baby growing inside of me with a HB of 133. I was so excited. I felt like this was it for us and all the pain and heartache of this journey would be cured by this baby growing inside of me.
Last Wednesday we made the trip back to my RE's office in San Francisco, I was 9 weeks pregnant. I was nervous of course, but hoping this would be my last trip to the RE. Everything was going to be fine and then I could be released to my OB.
As I lay down on the table for the ultrasound, I could feel my heart beating all over my body, just nerves I tell myself, I felt the same 2 weeks earlier and everything was fine. The NP begins the US. She doesnt say anything for a few seconds, then she says "I'm just looking for a heartbeat". Here is where I start to get worried. See at 9 weeks pregnant, the baby should be moving all over. I know this from my first pregnancy. So after a couple minutes that felt like hours, she says the words I have heard all too many times before "I'm sorry I can't find a heartbeat". At first I didn't even cry, I've heard these words 2 other times before. Then I look at my husband standing in the corner, he was so excited for this baby, he was much more attached than the other 2 because he also thought this time was for real, there is no way we would be forced to go through the same punishment of losing a baby again. I just lost it.
After I composed myself it dawned on me, what are we going to do next. Of course most people who just found out they lost a baby wouldn't immediately be thinking about trying again. But for someone who has spent the last 31 months suffering through losses and infertility, it is the first thing you think about. This time was especially urgent for me. I have had every test to determine the causes of my miscarriages. Everything is normal. Apparently for some reason we have such bad luck that every baby has some freak genetic problem. How much bad luck can one person have? I want an answer, I want a cure, a treatment. But there is none.
The NP says, some people this just happens to. Some people have 10 or 12 losses before they have a healthy baby. Well there has to be an alternative. There is no fucking way I can go through this again. 4 is enough. Much more than one person should have to experience.
I had my D&C on last Thursday. It was sad that I knew everyone at the hospital. The same nurses I had during my last D&C were there and got me ready for surgery. I mean honestly, who the fuck has to do this procedure 3 times in 2 years?
So as of now the only option is likely in vitro fertilization (IVF) and they can genetically test each embryo and only transfer the genetically normal embryo's to my uterus. Ok great. Unfortunately it is sooo expensive. A single round of IVF is around $10-12K. It's not a 100% guarantee. Average is a 45-50% pregnancy rate. And there is no guarantee any of the embryo's would be genetically normal. I could pump myself full of hormones. Stimulate my ovaries to produce 20-30 eggs. Go under anesthesia to harvest the eggs, only to have no normal embryo's grow. There is no way to predict the outcome.
So for now we are waiting for the chromosomal karotyping of the baby to see if there was a genetic issue and what it was. From there I am sure we will be seeing the geneticist at my RE's office and likely will do some testing on Brandon.
My emotions are different this time. I am so incredibly angry. The anger I feel is like nothing I have felt in my life. I feel like I am being punished for something, but can't figure out what I have done for this punishment. People keep telling me I am so strong. But I'm not. I may seem like it on the outside but I am dying inside. I can't walk around everyday crying and depressed. It makes people uncomfortable. They don't understand. So I suck it up and go to work and hang out with friends, all the while inside I can guarantee you there isn't an hour that goes by that I am not thinking of my babies I lost or my struggle to have a healthy baby. Everything reminds me of it. Every where I go I see pregnant women, or women with babies in tow. Constant reminders that they are mothers and I am not and may never be one. I may never give my husband the joy of being a father, or my parent's the joy of another grandchild. Even being wheeled out of the hospital after my D&C a hugely pregnant woman steps in the elevator with me. I'm sitting there in my wheelchair, trying to hold in my tears and thinking "is this a fucking cruel joke?" I mean honestly, what are the odds? That after having my dead baby scraped and sucked out of my body that I would have to sit in an elevator at eye level with a huge pregnant belly. That is just my luck apparently. Call me bitter, call me a pregnant woman hater, I don't care. That's what I am. I know people that have had 2 babies in the time I have been trying for one.
I feel so depressed about the uncertainty of our infertility journey. I think that is the hardest for me this time. I don't know how we are going to overcome this "bad luck" as they tell us it is. Infertility treatments can handle almost anything. But there is no defying genetics. We could very well pay all that money for IVF and end up with no genetically normal embryos.
So what do we do. For now I guess we have to wait for our formal appointment with my RE to discuss what he feels is our best option. I don't think that will happen until after the karotyping of the baby comes back (which I think took about 3 weeks last time). We also put off buying a new car, since our quest to have a baby is likely to get more expensive. Our potential baby will be our car payment. I also have to go and get yet another date added to my angel baby tattoo. And I have to put on my happy face and go back to work in 5 days and pretend that I am ok and my life is wonderful, when in reality my life really sucks.