Posts Tagged ‘womb of death’

Busy day…

…and it’s not even half-way done yet.

Early morning HCG test, to see if we get any definitive answers out of my stupid blood today.  Maybe last night’s unaccountably painful PIO was the last of the injections I’ll have to take for a while. I’m dreaming big, you see…

Then it was off to the vet for Nellie’s fertility-related bloodwork, though she’s on the other end of the spectrum.  Going in to be spayed in a couple of weeks, and her vet requires pre-surgery bloodwork to test for all sorts of stuff.  She was not thrilled that her morning walk turned into an expedition into the scariest place ever that smells like antiseptic and stale biscuits, where people put things in her bottom and expect her to hold still for that kind of indignity.

Sweetie, I know just how you feel…

But the good news is that the techs promised to have my results in by 3:00, so I did not have to cancel our consultation with the doctor.  Much to his sorrow, I’m sure.  I’m sure he’d much rather I just sit here and patiently await his invitation to schedule a consultation, but fuck it.  I want real information, and I want it now, not two weeks (or two months) from now.  I want an objective opinion about

a) what we’re looking at right now, and
b) what we’re potentially looking at the next time around.  

If there is a next time around.  Regarding which option I’d also like some input.

Going to do some writing, and some cooking, and maybe even a bit of pumpkin-pie baking.  The day aint long enough for the kitchen zen I feel myself to be in need of.  

More later…

Read Full Post »

Doing a bit better this morning.  Aided by the fact that since I’m working late tonight, I got to sleep in as late as I wanted (which was pretty late), PLUS the dog has figured out how to use her dog-door in the middle of the night, so I can safely ignore her when she wakes up and walks around nervously.

Lots of sleep is a good thing, and right now?  I’m making note of every single good thing I can find to dwell upon.

One thing I’m going to dwell upon right now is the support you all are giving me through this.  Knowing there are women out there feeling just as helpless and rageful as I do is comforting.  (Not in a misery-loves-company way, because I find myself sincerely rejoicing with fellow-bloggers who are enjoying a pregnancy, but in an “I am not alone” way.  As much as my husband loves me, he does not understand this.  As much as my face-to-face friends love me, they do not truly understand how much this process affects every breath I take every single day.  Having a network of women and men who know what it is like to want something so basic, so everyday, so maddeningly out-of-reach, is helping me to deal with my own reactions to being thwarted by biology.  It helps.  Thank you.  I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Another good thing is that my husband is wonderful.  He really is.  And I’m damned lucky.  And I wouldn’t trade my life with him for all the goat-farms in the world. (Though I fully intend to campaign hard for a change of living venue once his youngest daughter is in college next year.)  And he’s supportive of this sprog-quest of mine – which he wouldn’t have to be – and I’m fortunate in that, as well.  He truly wants to do whatever it takes to make me happy.  I’m blessed, and I feel like a bit of a schmuck for having given in to self-pity on the “my whole life sucks” front last week.  

Yet another good thing is that I’m really enjoying my morning coffee again, now that fear-of-miscarriage is not, really, an issue.  

I suppose I should be documenting “signs & symptoms” until we find out what my beta-numbers are tomorrow.  If it’s an ectopic, it’s still a pregnancy, just a very slow-moving one, so I suppose it’ll help me in the future to be able to remember what it felt like when…  God knows I looked back on my May/June entries these last few weeks.  Ok, then.  A couple of things I’ve noticed in the last few days:

  • Boobs are finally getting really sore – especially on the outsides.  This probably IS an HCG thing, rather than PIO general-tenderness, since this is the same odd feeling I remember from last spring.
  • Hair isn’t shedding (from the DHEA) anywhere near as much.  I’ve noticed this for about a week, and just put it down to the estrogens in the PIO & prometriums finally balancing out the androgens or something.  (what I don’t know about endocrinology would fill volumes, I’m totally talking out of my ass here.)  But it’s a nice change to NOT stop up the shower every time I bathe, and it’s nice to not be wondering if I’m going to start flashing scalp when the wind blows.  Last pregnancy, I noticed a definite cessation of hair shedding entirely.  Clean hairbrush, no stray hairs on black clothing, etc.  So this just might be related, or it might be the results of the aforementioned battle of the hormones.
  • I’ve also been seriously craving protein.  In any form whatsoever.  As a carbs/sugar kind of gal, this is noticeable enough for me to comment on.  Last pregnancy it was salt & crunchy, this time it seems to be eggs.  Or milk/cheese/yogurt.  Or meat (still sort of nasty for this previously-vegetarian-for-almost-20-years to get used to.)
  • Skin’s clear again.  Again, about a week ago, and I put it down to the DHEA finally losing its battle to turn me into a teenaged boy.  

Ok, a confession: I spent most of last night online looking for any miracle stories.  Stories where the initial HCG levels were so low, and they rose up high enough and turned into viable pregnancies!  A miracle!  


Those stories really aren’t out there.  I found many many stories of women with “low” numbers in the 100s & 200s “becoming” viable, but nothing like a 7.9 beta-level turning into a real-live baby.  And part of my squirrel-brain is shrieking, “But Mom & all her sisters & all their kids had morning-sickness-free pregnancies, which likely means naturally low HCG levels, (which, long-time readers will remember was my private rationale for why I shouldn’t worry about my low HCG levels last time.)  And part of my squirrel-brain is still rambling on about “maybe proto-sprog just implanted really really late, and is only, actually, like 2 days old!”

Sigh.  Yes, I do know better.

So then I try to gently steer myself back toward reality, where the best possible scenario is that this was just a chemical pregnancy that is being easily reabsorbed by the womb of death.  I really don’t want to live through an ectopic.  A high-school friend hemorrhaged to death at age 22 from an tubal rupture, and I’ve read far too many blogs of women who’ve had to deal with inducing an abortion via drugs.  I really don’t want to go there.  Everything else aside (pain, fear, hopeless rage), I don’t want to have to wait months for the chemo-like drugs to leave my system before trying again.  The clock is fucking ticking here!

And that’s this morning.  A long day ahead of me at work, and a long and crappy day scheduled for tomorrow.  Four hours on the subway – oi!  But at least I should have a bit more information one way or the other.  

And right now, info is another good thing that I want more of in my life.  That, and coffee.  And can I say that I’m really looking forward to a heavy drinking session one of these days?

Read Full Post »

My beta-test came back, and in the immortal words of the tech, “well, you’re not not-pregnant.”

Yeah, that’s right, folks.  I have an HCG-level of 7.9.  No, this is not cause to celebrate.  This likely means I’m dealing with an ectopic pregnancy.  I guess molar pregnancies have abnormally high levels & ectopic have abnormally low?  I always was an underachiever.  Hell, maybe all three implanted, only one of them turned molar, and two went ectopic & they’re just battling it out in the womb of death to see which major complication would be the most fun to live through this winter.


So, not only do I get no comfort-sex tonight.  I also get to keep on keeping on with the injections.  I go back in on Friday for beta #2, where the BEST I get to hope for is that my body’s just in the process of absorbing proto-sprog #2, and those numbers will have dropped to “not pregnant” levels.  Because all of a sudden, not-pregnant-at-all is my very bestest option.

I hate my life.

Read Full Post »