Are you still here?

I have a feeling my readership will drop now that I don’t have much to say!

But here’s a big announcement (which will probably surprise exactly NONE of you): Last night, I picked up my 30-day Lovenox supply. After this cycle, we’ll try this again. One more time. We really want a baby, and if this is what it takes, then this is what it takes.

I’m looking forward to the next 40-some days, before I have to start checking for signs of ovulation again. I’m looking forward to spending time with Tim and Maddie without thinking about being pregnant, getting pregnant, or staying pregnant. Tim is back at work, so we’ll finally have some money and we’ll be able to get out of the house more and do fun things as a family. I really think these next few weeks will be a good recharging point for me. I need to regroup. I need to take a step back. I need to breathe. (Can I just mention, though, that after a week, my stomach is just now starting to bruise from the Lovenox injections? It’s pretty maddening – battle scars from a lost battle. Ugh.)

So, I’m going to try to bring some cheer to this little blog. Here are some pictures of the little girl that makes my life worth living.

Don’t you love the marker on her face? Note to self: no more markers.

She put all these books in a square and said, “Maddie’s house!”

Cheese!

And here’s my wonderful, supportive, understanding husband.

And finally, my new hair.

There. Now that post was MUCH better than my recent ones.

Do you make house calls?

My OB called me yesterday afternoon. I missed the call, and I have to say that I was kind of surprised to hear from her. For all I know, she didn’t even know I had been pregnant again, but apparently she’s been keeping better tabs on me than I thought. Anyway, I called her back this morning and left a message, then waited all day for her to call back. I was pretty curious to see what she wanted, so I was excited when the phone finally rang at 4:00.

First, she asked how I was doing.  I told her I’d gone through a bad day, where I wanted to kill everyone, but that now I was pretty much at peace with it. I said, “I’m kind of used to it now. Isn’t that sad?” She agreed that yes, it sucks. She told me that yesterday, the blood order from my hematologist and my dropping HCG levels had come across her desk at the same time. She said, “All I could think was, SHIT, not again.” How sweet is she? Then, she told me we have a new game plan. It starts with “don’t give up!” Then, wait a full cycle. Then, on day 12, start the Lovenox injections. She thinks we were just a little too late with this one (SEE?! Told you.) and that this will help jump-start things. She also wants me to stay on the baby aspirin while on the Lovenox. And the progesterone.  She said, “We’re going to pull out all the stops. We’re going to make it happen.”

So.

I don’t know. You are all going to start thinking of me as that crazy girl who swears of TTC and then a minute later changes her mind, aren’t you?

Crumbling.

Today, I am not doing very well.

Yesterday, I was ok. I was laughing with people at work, I was keeping busy, I got my hair chopped off in an effort to lift my spirits (the jury is still out on whether it worked or not. And while I was getting the cut, there were THREE PREGNANT WOMEN THERE. One working, two getting cuts. And one woman who was very loudly recalling the recent birth of her son. SHUT UP.)

Today, I am falling apart.  For one thing, these cramps are KILLING ME. Seriously, if I wasn’t sitting down, I’d be doubled over. OWWWWW.  And I really, really did not want to go to the OB’s office for my blood draw today. I don’t know why I had to. What was the point? It’s not like the numbers were going to miraculously quadruple or something. 

When the nurse called, I really lost it. “Hi Amanda, this is Sue from the doctor’s office.” Her voice was so…ugh. I don’t know know the word I’m looking for me. Like she was trying to prepare me for what I already knew. “We got your numbers back, and they dropped to 10.” Well, DUH. You don’t need to coddle me, I”m a big girl and I knew this was coming.

Then she said, “I made an appointment for you to sit down with Dr. A on March 15th at 11.” I was pretty taken aback. When I asked her why, she said, “So you can have all your questions answered.” I think I might have made an annoyed sound, and I KNOW that I rolled my eyes. I said, “I don’t have any questions, that won’t be necessary.” And then. THEN. She said, “Oh, honey.” And for some reason, something inside me snapped and I just wanted to strangle her through the phone.

She said that in the next few weeks I should call the clinic so I can go in for another blood draw, “just to be sure” that my hcg is below 2. Uh, yeah. No. I won’t be doing that. How pointless. Are they trying to torture me? Really? Nope. Not going to do it.

I’m trying my damndest not to cry. I really am. I’m at work, and I cannot DO THIS RIGHT NOW. Part of me just wants to go home, take some Advil PM, crawl under the covers, and sleep for the next 3 days. The other part wants to scream and cry and hit things and demand that someone give me a reason why this is happening to me.

And then there’s the guilt. Let me tell you about the guilt. Because at this point, I am blaming myself that this happened again. I didn’t know I was pregnant. Like an idiot, I thought I had my period. I went off the progsterone. I didn’t start the shots. I doomed my little one before I even had the chance to know I could save it.  It’s my fault.

And do you know what I really wish? I wish I never would have taken that fucking pregnancy test. I wish I would have just gone on like I had gotten my period, or like it hadn’t really come yet. I wouldn’t be going through this right now. I would be able to try again in two weeks without even knowing that this had happened again.

AGAIN.

Fuck. I just.

I hate this.

Broken.

I won’t lie. Even though I was spotting, even though the tests were getting lighter, even though all the signs pointed to the obvious, I was still hoping. Hoping that the nurse would call me today and tell me that my numbers were great. That the Lovenox was working. That things would be fine.

Then she called to tell me that my HCG was at 20.

5 weeks, 2 days pregnant.

She said they want me to come in on Wednesday again for another blood draw, and I was pretty snotty when I asked, “Why, what’s the point?” I didn’t mean to be rude to her. It’s not her fault my body doesn’t work.

I am just so broken right now. I can’t stop crying. I can’t stop asking “why”. I did everything they told me to do. But maybe it was too late. Maybe I was an idiot thinking my period had started and it’s my own fault this is happening. Maybe I could have saved it if I had known sooner.

What if. What if. What if.

I’m so sorry, to my tiny little babies that I let down, that my body betrayed, that I’ll never be able to bring into the world. I’m sorry to my beautiful daughter for losing sibling after sibling, for leaving her as an only child, something I never wanted for her.

This is the end of the line. This is all my heart can take.

5w1d. Holding on.

You’ll be happy to know that I did NOT take another pregnancy test today. I’m just going to let be what’s going to be.

I went over to my mom’s house yesterday to get my mind off of  everything. I needed to get out of my house and stop dwelling on the things that could go wrong. When I got there, she came up and put a pendant around my neck.  St. William, the patron saint of children. She told me that when I’m feeling scared, I should kiss the pendant and pray. It can’t hurt, right? It helps the the pendant was a gift to my mom from my cousin George, who’s dad, my uncle Bill, was the best man I’ve ever known. He died 6 or 7 years ago after complications from a car accident, and I really do miss him every day. If I have a boy, I want to name him William. (Oddly enough, Uncle Bill had to do Lovenox injections too. Somehow it’s comforting to me knowing that.)

I had myself pretty psyched up about the shot last night. I don’t know why, but I was more nervous than I had been the night before. Again, the needle didn’t hurt, but the Lovenox burned like crazy. It was not as easy as the one the night before had been. But I don’t have a bruise this morning, so I guess that’s saying something.

Sleep didn’t come easily last night. I was restless, and I had many disturbing dreams. The worst was the I woke up with blood everywhere. When I really did wake up, I told Tim I was afraid to go to the bathroom. Luckily, the dream wasn’t a reality and things are clear down there.

First HCG draw tomorrow. Trying not to panic.

ETA: Had a little bit of red spotting. Specks, really, nothing major. Freaking out, of course. I’m not ashamed to admit that I cried. So then, of course, I had Tim go get me a dollar tree test. It’s positive, but faintly so. (Although I will say that with the past 3 losses, I never once got a positive on the dollar tree. Maybe it’s a good sign?) Just praying at this point. Praying praying praying.

Surprise! 5 weeks today!

Today, I am 5 weeks pregnant. This is further than I made it with the past 3 pregnancies (except the first one, but I knew at 4w4d that my levels were dropping. The bleeding didn’t start until 5w2d.) I had cramps all night, but I think they might have been digestive. I thought they were gone, but as I’m sitting here typing this, they’re back. Of course I took another test this morning, just to assure myself that I wasn’t crazy, that I am in fact pregnant, and of course the test line is fading. Of course it is.  At 5 weeks pregnant, that line should be pretty dark, but not mine. Nope. (Not that yesterday’s test was very dark either, but it’s not a good sign.)

You don’t need to tell me, “Tests are all different! Stop testing!” I know that tests are all different, but in my experience, fading lines have not been a good sign. I won’t be testing again, as I don’t have any tests in the house and don’t plan on leaving the house to buy any, so now I just have to wait until my beta on Monday and pray that these cramps aren’t the sign of something bad.

It’s really hard to think positive. I want with all my heart to be overjoyed about this, to be thrilled at the thought of a growing belly and another baby. But I’m too scared to even go there right now.

As for the shot? Not a big deal at all. It really didn’t even hurt, which surprised me. I do have a bruise already, but if it saves this baby, then I’ll take it.

Holy shit.

I’m pregnant.

I’M FUCKING PREGNANT.

Please pray for me.  I am so terrified.

Starting Lovenox tonight. Want to cry because I stopped the progesterone thinking AF was here. Don’t know if it’s safe to start taking it again. I’m assuming yes?

OMG.

ETA: Talked to the nurse at my OB’s office. She told me to go back on the progesterone and it would be fine. HCG draw next MWF. Hate those, but it had to be done. Then if everything goes well (please please please) we’ll do an u/s between 6 and 7 weeks.