Squee and grr: Post #2-GRRR!
Isn’t it life's way? Good stuff happens, and then the crap rears up and tries to suck the joy from life. Then something good breaks through and shines some light, banishing the crap for a while. Rather than mix my squee and woe in one post, I choose to celebrate/gripe about them separately.
So, yeah. In many ways, I'm at the happiest spot of my life. And yet I'm also sad, stressed, and angry much of the time. Married life is wonderful. I don't want to downplay that. Being with Marc makes me profoundly happy. And yet this trying-to-have-a-baby thing we're doing, and all the shit we appear to have to wade through to make that happen? SUCK.
…In which my period is two weeks late, but six home pregnancy tests and one blood-serum test say I am not actually pregnant, except maybe I am (or maybe I was) or who the hell knows what all except something's wrong because why the hell is my body not working anymore?
That's the lead. Here's the TMI-filled backstory.
So there's this pattern I've been going through since the miscarriage.
1. Identify when I'm going to ovulate. My cycles are very regular, classic 28-day affairs. That means I generally ovulate on day 15.
2. Have sex on my most fertile days. On my doctor's advice, we have at it every other day during the widest space of potentially fertile time-days 8-16. Because sperm can live for 4-6 days and eggs can live for 24 hours, this plan pretty much guarantees that those two elements are in the same place at the right time. It's also very clear to me from the biological clues my body gives when I'm actually ovulating, and we're careful to make sure we have sex within that 24 hours. I haven't been using ovulation kits because my biological signals have been so clear and we're covering our bases pretty thoroughly, and because I already fixate on this stuff quite a lot and have been trying hard to keep myself from going totally OCD. I will probably have to add peeing on sticks and more strictly scheduling our sex life, but up to now we've been skipping this part.
3. Wait. This is the part I hate. The first week after ovulation is okay, but the week before my period is stupid. I understand this is pretty much the case for anyone who's trying to get pregnant. It's this week-long head-game between my brain and my body, with my brain scrutinizing every single signal my body throws out and trying to determine whereit places me along the pregnant/not pregnant scale.
An extra blast of fun for this process: Since the miscarriage, my PMS symptoms have changed (my doctor says this is very common) and now include the vague nausea/carsickness feeling that I had when I was pregnant. I've finally gotten to the point where I no longer put this feeling in the "signs you're pregnant" column.
4. Get my period. Be a bit sad about this, but relieved to be out of the uncertainty phase, and then buck up and start counting and thinking positively again.
So. Back in February when I first saw my new doctor, she said that because I'm screeching in toward 40 and I've already miscarried once, she didn't want me to wait the standard 12 months of trying before we start looking for problems and/or ways to move things along. She said if I wasn't pregnant by May, I should come back and we'd talk about doing further testing on me and start some on Marc to make sure there isn't a problem, and then to address any problems we might find. I've already had the follicle stimulating hormone test that gives an idea of how close to menopause a woman is, and I came up normal, meaning I've still got a good reserve of eggs.
I didn't get pregnant in April, so I scheduled an annual exam appointment for May. All appeared normal. She said to see whether I got my period, and if I didn't, we'd do a Day 12 ultrasound that determines whether I'm ovulating normally (apparently you can have all the hormonal signs of ovulation without actually expelling an egg).
And here's where things got all bungled. About five days after I ovulated, my boobs went hyper swollen and painful. Then nine days after ovulation, I had some spotting. When I got pregnant in November, I had implantation bleeding, so having isolated bleeding during that window of time when a fertilized egg is implanting made me go, "Ooh! Maybe I'm pregnant again!" And then I waited. Took a pregnancy test the day my period was due, and it was negative, which didn't distress me because it took eight days before I triggered a urine test last time. So I waited more, and my period didn't come. My boobs went back to their normal size, and I still didn't get my period. When I hit five days late, I called my doctor's office and had blood drawn for a more sensitive test.
So there I am last week, a week late, pretty sure I'm pregnant again, and the lab calls and tells me I'm definitely not-there's "less than zero" units of the pregnancy hormone in my blood. The nurse tells me there's any number of reasons I'm late (which I've never been in my life except the one time I was actually pregnant) and that I should just give a call when my period shows up. Which, you know, could be tomorrow or could be… we don't even know when.
None of this sat well with me. First, there's the extreme version of the "Crap, I'm not pregnant" thing, then the general uncertainty, then the anger at the universe and my body for not working the way it's supposed to and the way it always has, and then the fear that I'm doing something radical like going into menopause, and all the other shit that comes up when something unexplained is between you and something you really want.
I talked to my doctor yesterday (I'd called her last week, but she called back while I was on boarding a plane to Philadelphia [to visit Marc's 8-months-pregnant sister, which was really bad timing yet again, really emotionally difficult yet again, but yet again really not her fault] so I couldn't talk). She's having me in for a repeat pregnancy test tomorrow, and then when we get the (presumably negative) results on Monday, she'll give me progesterone to force my period to come, and then we'll continue with the Day 12 ultrasound as planned and take the opportunity to get a closer look at my parts and see whether there's something wonky going on there.
I also talked to my good friend Holly last night. She's an acupuncturist and doctor of traditional Chinese medicine. She agrees with the doctor's plans, but says she thinks that, given the breast tenderness and spotting and the obvious mix-up going on with my hormones, it's quite likely that I was pregnant, that it went south very early on, and that my body and hormones are all out of whack, so my body hasn't managed to move to the stage of expelling things. She suggests acupuncture to help unblock things, one way or the other, so I've got an appointment for that tomorrow, too.
Oh, and she added that she had a patient who was 45 days late, had multiple negative pregnancy tests, and turned out to be pregnant after all. And both my sister and mother have gotten negative results from blood tests while pregnant. So there's a very minor chance that I'm pregnant. Except I really don't feel pregnant.
In sum: Aggravating.
I will say that while I was a weeping mess over all of this in my counseling session yesterday (and as I've been on and off since I got that initial not-pregnant call), I feel a lot better for having a plan. I really don't tolerate uncertainty at all, and it helps enormously to have steps in place to move things out of limbo and back into the "every other day during the fertile week" plan.
So, yeah. In many ways, I'm at the happiest spot of my life. And yet I'm also sad, stressed, and angry much of the time. Married life is wonderful. I don't want to downplay that. Being with Marc makes me profoundly happy. And yet this trying-to-have-a-baby thing we're doing, and all the shit we appear to have to wade through to make that happen? SUCK.
…In which my period is two weeks late, but six home pregnancy tests and one blood-serum test say I am not actually pregnant, except maybe I am (or maybe I was) or who the hell knows what all except something's wrong because why the hell is my body not working anymore?
That's the lead. Here's the TMI-filled backstory.
So there's this pattern I've been going through since the miscarriage.
1. Identify when I'm going to ovulate. My cycles are very regular, classic 28-day affairs. That means I generally ovulate on day 15.
2. Have sex on my most fertile days. On my doctor's advice, we have at it every other day during the widest space of potentially fertile time-days 8-16. Because sperm can live for 4-6 days and eggs can live for 24 hours, this plan pretty much guarantees that those two elements are in the same place at the right time. It's also very clear to me from the biological clues my body gives when I'm actually ovulating, and we're careful to make sure we have sex within that 24 hours. I haven't been using ovulation kits because my biological signals have been so clear and we're covering our bases pretty thoroughly, and because I already fixate on this stuff quite a lot and have been trying hard to keep myself from going totally OCD. I will probably have to add peeing on sticks and more strictly scheduling our sex life, but up to now we've been skipping this part.
3. Wait. This is the part I hate. The first week after ovulation is okay, but the week before my period is stupid. I understand this is pretty much the case for anyone who's trying to get pregnant. It's this week-long head-game between my brain and my body, with my brain scrutinizing every single signal my body throws out and trying to determine whereit places me along the pregnant/not pregnant scale.
An extra blast of fun for this process: Since the miscarriage, my PMS symptoms have changed (my doctor says this is very common) and now include the vague nausea/carsickness feeling that I had when I was pregnant. I've finally gotten to the point where I no longer put this feeling in the "signs you're pregnant" column.
4. Get my period. Be a bit sad about this, but relieved to be out of the uncertainty phase, and then buck up and start counting and thinking positively again.
So. Back in February when I first saw my new doctor, she said that because I'm screeching in toward 40 and I've already miscarried once, she didn't want me to wait the standard 12 months of trying before we start looking for problems and/or ways to move things along. She said if I wasn't pregnant by May, I should come back and we'd talk about doing further testing on me and start some on Marc to make sure there isn't a problem, and then to address any problems we might find. I've already had the follicle stimulating hormone test that gives an idea of how close to menopause a woman is, and I came up normal, meaning I've still got a good reserve of eggs.
I didn't get pregnant in April, so I scheduled an annual exam appointment for May. All appeared normal. She said to see whether I got my period, and if I didn't, we'd do a Day 12 ultrasound that determines whether I'm ovulating normally (apparently you can have all the hormonal signs of ovulation without actually expelling an egg).
And here's where things got all bungled. About five days after I ovulated, my boobs went hyper swollen and painful. Then nine days after ovulation, I had some spotting. When I got pregnant in November, I had implantation bleeding, so having isolated bleeding during that window of time when a fertilized egg is implanting made me go, "Ooh! Maybe I'm pregnant again!" And then I waited. Took a pregnancy test the day my period was due, and it was negative, which didn't distress me because it took eight days before I triggered a urine test last time. So I waited more, and my period didn't come. My boobs went back to their normal size, and I still didn't get my period. When I hit five days late, I called my doctor's office and had blood drawn for a more sensitive test.
So there I am last week, a week late, pretty sure I'm pregnant again, and the lab calls and tells me I'm definitely not-there's "less than zero" units of the pregnancy hormone in my blood. The nurse tells me there's any number of reasons I'm late (which I've never been in my life except the one time I was actually pregnant) and that I should just give a call when my period shows up. Which, you know, could be tomorrow or could be… we don't even know when.
None of this sat well with me. First, there's the extreme version of the "Crap, I'm not pregnant" thing, then the general uncertainty, then the anger at the universe and my body for not working the way it's supposed to and the way it always has, and then the fear that I'm doing something radical like going into menopause, and all the other shit that comes up when something unexplained is between you and something you really want.
I talked to my doctor yesterday (I'd called her last week, but she called back while I was on boarding a plane to Philadelphia [to visit Marc's 8-months-pregnant sister, which was really bad timing yet again, really emotionally difficult yet again, but yet again really not her fault] so I couldn't talk). She's having me in for a repeat pregnancy test tomorrow, and then when we get the (presumably negative) results on Monday, she'll give me progesterone to force my period to come, and then we'll continue with the Day 12 ultrasound as planned and take the opportunity to get a closer look at my parts and see whether there's something wonky going on there.
I also talked to my good friend Holly last night. She's an acupuncturist and doctor of traditional Chinese medicine. She agrees with the doctor's plans, but says she thinks that, given the breast tenderness and spotting and the obvious mix-up going on with my hormones, it's quite likely that I was pregnant, that it went south very early on, and that my body and hormones are all out of whack, so my body hasn't managed to move to the stage of expelling things. She suggests acupuncture to help unblock things, one way or the other, so I've got an appointment for that tomorrow, too.
Oh, and she added that she had a patient who was 45 days late, had multiple negative pregnancy tests, and turned out to be pregnant after all. And both my sister and mother have gotten negative results from blood tests while pregnant. So there's a very minor chance that I'm pregnant. Except I really don't feel pregnant.
In sum: Aggravating.
I will say that while I was a weeping mess over all of this in my counseling session yesterday (and as I've been on and off since I got that initial not-pregnant call), I feel a lot better for having a plan. I really don't tolerate uncertainty at all, and it helps enormously to have steps in place to move things out of limbo and back into the "every other day during the fertile week" plan.