November 24th:
Reflections Upon Reaching My Very First 2ww (forum argot for "two week wait" between all the fertility treatment excitement and the test that says whether it's time to plunge back into the thick of cycle two).
It's a little weird to reach this point of interstitial wait and see. A mix of relief for my very tired body, some emotional hangover, and the beginnings of my perpetually plotting brain's need to chart out the next cycle in better detail. But here we are. No shots. No ultrasounds. No blood tests. Just radio silence as things run their course or don't.
Going through my brain:
(1) there's nothing really left to do if our "cunning gonads on the prowl" didn't meet up in some torrid tango during that last window. And probably, they didn't. Given the odds. BUT there are all kinds of factors impacting implantation of any embryo that maybe popped up, so technically you should be laying low, keeping minimal social interactions, meditating, resting, cutting up pineapples and giving them accupuncture while dunking brazil nuts in rooibos tea etc. just in case!!
(2) all of the hormones you've just flushed into your body are the same ones that would be released if you'd managed to knock yourself up. That means all the same symptoms in full force! And you could pretty much get a screaming positive on any test requiring strips and urine for at least the next ten days until all that crap clears your system. Which is tempting. Sometimes just having the illusion of success is, no doubt, gratifying.
(3) if you had your way, you would jump on that California "zen camp" a family friend cited as her December plans. Because all you want to do is sit somewhere quietly and try to clear your brain of the backed up emotional and physiological baggage of an a first time out and all the weird fear and exhaustion that uncertainty brings about with a first try.
(4) but you also want to be absolutely ready for the next cycle in two weeks. You desperately want a chance to evaluate the final tally and - having been a little thrown off by the twists and turns of an unpredictable first go - you really want to get back into a second cycle to do it right this time now that you know what to expect and every one has a better read on your idiosyncratic physiology. The longer you wait, the more anxious you'll get.
(5) waiting for two weeks to see if anything stuck is actually far more humane than that horrific wait between taking the bar exam and finding out if that stuck. Except that you had probably an 85% chance of a positive letter on that one and this time you have probably an 85% chance of a negative result. Which may or may not be easier or harder. I'm actually not sure.
(6) you're pretty sure that your husband is still actually pretty terrified of having children, making this particular interim far easier for him than for you. But possibly making that one week where he's actually on-call after the surrounding ones of powerlessly observing that much more of a head trip. And as much as you're in this together, it's still your body going through most of the stuff and there's still going to be this slip into it being your thing. And that's hard sometimes, but that's why it's good to have friends too.
(7) but even if you're relieved to be through to the chilling part, you did realize that when you both actively work on keeping things romantic and taking time for each other and prioritizing all that canoodling of early dating, it is really nice. Maybe a bit wearing for several days in a row, but that relationships always are a bit of work and slipping out of comfortable yields positive results.
(8) this could just be the medically induced raging PMS/early-pregnancy (pretty much all those hormones are doing a jump and jive in my system so I'm running the gamut), but I cannot get enough chocolate. Forget three pieces, I need three bars. For breakfast. Please!
December 5th
Live Blogging The Pee-Stick Friday Follies Fun
4:45 a.m. - stagger out of bed. Don't need to pee. Good. Will not test before work. Do not want that pall cast over our morning. Don't want to get mad at Andrew for not being inadequately empathetic about the ombre shades of complex girl-emotions about to explode upon seeing that little minus. Pack up HPTs. Pack up progesterone "just in case." Carry on. Ooops synthroid. Take the synthroid! Ok. We're good
5:00 a.m. - 5:15 a.m. - start breakfast, turn on my phone, pop on some music. Wait wait wait until it's been at least a half hour before eating a bite of that banana for Andrew's oatmeal or it'll mess up the synthroid absorption.
5:15 - 5:20 a.m. - sneak upstairs, plug in the Christmas lights, leap onto the sleeping loris, and start poking him until he stirs. Make a funny face as he puts on his glasses. Hand him his not-too-hot-to-accidentally-land-in-his-lap coffee mug with the cute monkey. Back downstairs.
5:20-5:37 a.m. - finish breakfast, run upstairs to announce "breakfast is ready." Change the lights up for "mood lighting." Close the cabinet doors and sit down to a crossword while the loris stumbles downstairs.
5:40 a.m. - 5:55 a.m. - as the caffeine reserves increase in the man's system, experience an increasing amount of edification on engineering type topics, bike parts and similar topics before leaving mid-sentence.
5:55 a.m. - oh yeah, bring the HPT. Oh yeah. Have to do that. Ugh.
6:15 a.m. - get into work, set up, start the usual.
6:20 a.m. - hmmmm have to pee. Earlier than I'd wanted. I have this theory that if I dehydrate myself severely, my urine will be more concentrated and that in turn will make me ... I don't know... more pregnant?
6:30 a.m. - Ok, I'm going to do it. Wait wait wait. Distract myself. Start to think what that little negative is going to do. Remember previous ways it hits.Wonder if it will impact me or if I'm already ready to move..
6:33 a.m - "Pregnant"...
4:45 a.m. - stagger out of bed. Don't need to pee. Good. Will not test before work. Do not want that pall cast over our morning. Don't want to get mad at Andrew for not being inadequately empathetic about the ombre shades of complex girl-emotions about to explode upon seeing that little minus. Pack up HPTs. Pack up progesterone "just in case." Carry on. Ooops synthroid. Take the synthroid! Ok. We're good
5:00 a.m. - 5:15 a.m. - start breakfast, turn on my phone, pop on some music. Wait wait wait until it's been at least a half hour before eating a bite of that banana for Andrew's oatmeal or it'll mess up the synthroid absorption.
5:15 - 5:20 a.m. - sneak upstairs, plug in the Christmas lights, leap onto the sleeping loris, and start poking him until he stirs. Make a funny face as he puts on his glasses. Hand him his not-too-hot-to-accidentally-land-in-his-lap coffee mug with the cute monkey. Back downstairs.
5:20-5:37 a.m. - finish breakfast, run upstairs to announce "breakfast is ready." Change the lights up for "mood lighting." Close the cabinet doors and sit down to a crossword while the loris stumbles downstairs.
5:40 a.m. - 5:55 a.m. - as the caffeine reserves increase in the man's system, experience an increasing amount of edification on engineering type topics, bike parts and similar topics before leaving mid-sentence.
5:55 a.m. - oh yeah, bring the HPT. Oh yeah. Have to do that. Ugh.
6:15 a.m. - get into work, set up, start the usual.
6:20 a.m. - hmmmm have to pee. Earlier than I'd wanted. I have this theory that if I dehydrate myself severely, my urine will be more concentrated and that in turn will make me ... I don't know... more pregnant?
6:30 a.m. - Ok, I'm going to do it. Wait wait wait. Distract myself. Start to think what that little negative is going to do. Remember previous ways it hits.Wonder if it will impact me or if I'm already ready to move..
6:33 a.m - "Pregnant"...
wait. Um. Is there a "not" there?
What?
Huh. How do I feel about this.
Am I going to cry?
Am I excited.
What??
6:34 a.m. - Ok, little test you'd better not be a liar. I'll be ... I don't even know what. Darn it, I'm going to have to retest. Later. When I have to pee again. Which means it will be less of that morning concentrate so it might be less likely to show up which means it might be negative and I might have to buy yet another test! Oh god this is totally going to tie up my morning..
6:35 a.m. - but, I should take that progesterone suppository then, huh. Ok. Only half a day off if that test is messing with me.
6:36 a.m. - could be false positive. Not getting excited. Not getting suckered into that. Still dazed. A lot to go. This early on... But hell, wow, if it is that would be so much easier. In some ways. Unless I'm full with a small litter. But I can handle that. Just make this real. Make this stick.
6:37 a.m. - Got to distract myself. Ok, I'm going to write about bike parts and my day yesterday. Not sharing. Not talking about it. Not letting it get me involved and hopeful.
6:50 a.m. - Ok, want to test again but don't want to drink too much and dilute everything.
6:55 a.m. - Oh crap, the IRB meeting. Phone in.
7:00 a.m. - warily eye the positive pregnancy test on my desk. Still the same. Still pregnant. Classy little paperweight.
8:08 a.m. - oh my god, you wordsmiths are worse than lawyers. The original sentence that we have been parsing for the last fifty minutes made perfect sense!! You are being an idiot! But whatever, stop explaining why you want to change it. I will do whatever you want. We can write the new consent form in crayon if you like. With glitter. Whatever.
8:15 a.m. - seriously we're shelving it because you have a problem with the wording? Ok, whatever. I'll say "aye."
8:16 a.m. - Test still says "pregnant." Does not suddenly say "psych!" Ok
8:21 a.m. - hmmm so I need to call a nurse regardless. If I have two contradictory tests will we just assume the negative or do the blood test. And with the risk of multiples, they'll want to follow up on that before that 10 week ultrasound. What happens if I am positive?
8:22 a.m. - what the heck are we talking about? Heavy water? Informed consent? Whatever. Pace pace pace. Don't pace too much. Imaginary embryo might fall out. Hold very very still...
8:37 a.m. - Leslie's in. She's going to the bathroom. Oh shit, did I put things away in there? Is there a big urine cup just sitting in the sink. Oh god. NOOOOOOOO!
8:39: a.m. - she's back. Does she look disgusted? Is she carrying a glass? Should I go look? Maybe I should test again?
8:40 a.m. - Ah hell. I'll just try it. Yes, yes, I'm going to pee on a stick while participating in an IRB. So sue me. I have no idea what they're talking about and they can't hear me anyways.
8:41 a.m. - Waiting waiting waiting. Don't look at it. If you look at it before 3 minutes, you'll jinx it. Or it'll turn into a dead cat in a box or something. Just...
8:43 a.m. - Pregnant!!! Holy crap. Ok, still could be some HCG lingering in my system from the ovidrel. Don't get excited. Still could miscarry. But... ok. Got to call the nurse. Which nurse? Sarah vanished. Lindsay? Does she work on Mondays? Wait, it's Friday.
8:44 a.m. - Now I am walking back into a fully populated office holding a pregnancy test so that I can place a second one on my desk. This is probably not super professional.
8:45 a.m. - What the heck is going on in this meeting? Is it time to say "aye" yet?
9:00 a.m. - Meeting goes from 7-9. I don't care if you're still talking, I'm hanging up.
9:01 a.m. - Message for nurse. "Um, so I was supposed to take a pregnancy test and call you. I did. It's pregnant. Er I took two and they both are positive. So, calling..."
9:05 a.m. - tea. Haven't had much to drink all day. And chocolate.
9:10 a.m. - return call from nurse. Time for a blood test.
9:13 a.m. - ok, time to tell a few people. Andrew says "are they even supposed to work this early" while I remind him that I've been talking about taking this test on this morning for the entirety of the two week wait. He then says "cool" and credits his "famous" Wright virility (which was super fucking fun to hear about all the way through fertility treatments, thanks). Given the number of eggs released (I believe they estimated about 8 would be release, 3 fully mature for sure), he'd better hope that's a myth or we're in trouble.
9:40 a.m. - arrive at the lab. Wait for my number.
10:10 a.m. - number called. Vein is a little rolly but mostly just slow. Apparently I'm dehydrated.
10: 30 a.m. - return to the office, drink a lot of tea, and wait with my legs crossed lest something fall out!
What??
6:34 a.m. - Ok, little test you'd better not be a liar. I'll be ... I don't even know what. Darn it, I'm going to have to retest. Later. When I have to pee again. Which means it will be less of that morning concentrate so it might be less likely to show up which means it might be negative and I might have to buy yet another test! Oh god this is totally going to tie up my morning..
6:35 a.m. - but, I should take that progesterone suppository then, huh. Ok. Only half a day off if that test is messing with me.
6:36 a.m. - could be false positive. Not getting excited. Not getting suckered into that. Still dazed. A lot to go. This early on... But hell, wow, if it is that would be so much easier. In some ways. Unless I'm full with a small litter. But I can handle that. Just make this real. Make this stick.
6:37 a.m. - Got to distract myself. Ok, I'm going to write about bike parts and my day yesterday. Not sharing. Not talking about it. Not letting it get me involved and hopeful.
6:50 a.m. - Ok, want to test again but don't want to drink too much and dilute everything.
6:55 a.m. - Oh crap, the IRB meeting. Phone in.
7:00 a.m. - warily eye the positive pregnancy test on my desk. Still the same. Still pregnant. Classy little paperweight.
8:08 a.m. - oh my god, you wordsmiths are worse than lawyers. The original sentence that we have been parsing for the last fifty minutes made perfect sense!! You are being an idiot! But whatever, stop explaining why you want to change it. I will do whatever you want. We can write the new consent form in crayon if you like. With glitter. Whatever.
8:15 a.m. - seriously we're shelving it because you have a problem with the wording? Ok, whatever. I'll say "aye."
8:16 a.m. - Test still says "pregnant." Does not suddenly say "psych!" Ok
8:21 a.m. - hmmm so I need to call a nurse regardless. If I have two contradictory tests will we just assume the negative or do the blood test. And with the risk of multiples, they'll want to follow up on that before that 10 week ultrasound. What happens if I am positive?
8:22 a.m. - what the heck are we talking about? Heavy water? Informed consent? Whatever. Pace pace pace. Don't pace too much. Imaginary embryo might fall out. Hold very very still...
8:37 a.m. - Leslie's in. She's going to the bathroom. Oh shit, did I put things away in there? Is there a big urine cup just sitting in the sink. Oh god. NOOOOOOOO!
8:39: a.m. - she's back. Does she look disgusted? Is she carrying a glass? Should I go look? Maybe I should test again?
8:40 a.m. - Ah hell. I'll just try it. Yes, yes, I'm going to pee on a stick while participating in an IRB. So sue me. I have no idea what they're talking about and they can't hear me anyways.
8:41 a.m. - Waiting waiting waiting. Don't look at it. If you look at it before 3 minutes, you'll jinx it. Or it'll turn into a dead cat in a box or something. Just...
8:43 a.m. - Pregnant!!! Holy crap. Ok, still could be some HCG lingering in my system from the ovidrel. Don't get excited. Still could miscarry. But... ok. Got to call the nurse. Which nurse? Sarah vanished. Lindsay? Does she work on Mondays? Wait, it's Friday.
8:44 a.m. - Now I am walking back into a fully populated office holding a pregnancy test so that I can place a second one on my desk. This is probably not super professional.
8:45 a.m. - What the heck is going on in this meeting? Is it time to say "aye" yet?
9:00 a.m. - Meeting goes from 7-9. I don't care if you're still talking, I'm hanging up.
9:01 a.m. - Message for nurse. "Um, so I was supposed to take a pregnancy test and call you. I did. It's pregnant. Er I took two and they both are positive. So, calling..."
9:05 a.m. - tea. Haven't had much to drink all day. And chocolate.
9:10 a.m. - return call from nurse. Time for a blood test.
9:13 a.m. - ok, time to tell a few people. Andrew says "are they even supposed to work this early" while I remind him that I've been talking about taking this test on this morning for the entirety of the two week wait. He then says "cool" and credits his "famous" Wright virility (which was super fucking fun to hear about all the way through fertility treatments, thanks). Given the number of eggs released (I believe they estimated about 8 would be release, 3 fully mature for sure), he'd better hope that's a myth or we're in trouble.
9:40 a.m. - arrive at the lab. Wait for my number.
10:10 a.m. - number called. Vein is a little rolly but mostly just slow. Apparently I'm dehydrated.
10: 30 a.m. - return to the office, drink a lot of tea, and wait with my legs crossed lest something fall out!
What happens if??
Really??
11:45: Blood test says yes. Ultrasound on the 26th? Oh god that's an eternity from now. I think I'll go crazy. But ... wow. They both still say yes!!
Oh my god, they say yes!!!
The Agonizing Wait Between December 5th and December 26th
Random thoughts in my next two week wait.
Two beta tests down. HcG doubling at a high normal clip. I *am* chemically pregnant. Sounds like some kind of euphemism for being drugged out on something wild. "Gravid with hormones." "Mother of the periodic table." "Sire of argon, neon, and uranium."
Yes, yes, the HCG in my system shows up on ovulation tests again. That's maybe meaningless since they got high enough that it will take a long time to clear the system, but it's oddly reassuring, and I have 20 strips that have to be used this month.
I feel sick. No I don't. Wait, do I? Ooop, that's heartburn. But not reall... Ugh, if I eat any more of this... I think my esophogus is just clogged. Man that onion smell is strong!... (two seconds pass) MUST EAT ALL THE CHOCOLATE!! Wow that smells really minty. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or... crap I don't feel nauseous at all; can't possibly still be pregna- (burp)
If I had "morning sickness," then I'd feel like this was all sticking and real. Except progesterone supplements probably what's making me a little nauseous now. It's what, five weeks? Doesn't real morning sickness usually start around the 6th week. But I'm a little nauseous. But not very. But it's early. But if I were really pregnant, I'd feel worse! Ugh, wow, room spinning... need to sit/lay down. Yikes. What was I saying, oh yeah if I were really... This isn't nausea. This is like when I drink too much tea on an empty stomach. Which makes me nauseous. And I'm not drinking tea on an empty stomach. But it's still not...
Mood swings? I've been moody on some form of hormonal supplement or other for years, and this is nothing compared to when I was taking those shots... except when it is. Suddenly reading the word "placenta" makes me tear up and in between wanting to write my friends cryptic text messages about how much I love them and have always loved them so damned much, I'm muttering wanions under my breath that would make Satan blanch.
Middle of the night... who lit the bed on fire and why is my husband wearing several sweaters and shivering??
Cramping? Abdominal pain. These are insufficiently descriptive for the full palette of not-quite-the-cramping-I-think-of-when-I-think-cramps new experiences my body is going through. Soreness like a pulled muscle. Hmmm gassy reflux type something. Ok, now it feels like my stomach is just bruised.
Can't tell. Can't get excited. The more excited I get, the more upset I'll be if it doesn't work. I was ready for another cycle of the shots and the tests and the driving and the grueling emotional roller coaster ride, but every day I go, the harder coming back to that would be. The harder losing this sense of something inside of me. The more discouraged I'd feel.
The more people who know and don't know the keywords of "if it sticks..." and other gentle avoidance until all qualifiers are off, the higher the risk that it just won't stick. At least in my brain. But I have to tell some people. I have to make appointments. My massage therapist needs to know. I should probably check with my pilates instructor. But oh god if I act pregnant, then... oh wait nausea, one sec... mulling to resume in a minute.
Things that currently make me nauseous:
1. that really delicious pine scent from the wreath outside, but only if I put my face close to it. Before that, it smells ooooh so good and just lures me right int.
2. Licorice. Except it might calm the nausea. It depends.
3. The smell of green tea. Oh my god!
4. Eating.
5. Not eating. Especially the absence of eating salty foods.
Just throw up already! Stop with this constant unending nagging queasiness... ok don't really. I don't really want to go there, but god I kind of do.
Basically, being 6 weeks pregnant is like being hungover while also PMS-ing. Nauseous, lightheaded, tired, achy, sensitive to smells, craving salty and possibly greasy foods (except the grease makes your stomach seize just thinking about it)... "sick" but not actually sick.
Things that currently make me nauseous:
1. that really delicious pine scent from the wreath outside, but only if I put my face close to it. Before that, it smells ooooh so good and just lures me right int.
2. Licorice. Except it might calm the nausea. It depends.
3. The smell of green tea. Oh my god!
4. Eating.
5. Not eating. Especially the absence of eating salty foods.
Just throw up already! Stop with this constant unending nagging queasiness... ok don't really. I don't really want to go there, but god I kind of do.
Basically, being 6 weeks pregnant is like being hungover while also PMS-ing. Nauseous, lightheaded, tired, achy, sensitive to smells, craving salty and possibly greasy foods (except the grease makes your stomach seize just thinking about it)... "sick" but not actually sick.
If I don't smell the food while I'm making it... it's ok. Naw, I'm fine. I don't feel... ugh.
Can I take a nap now?? It's been two hours.
But if there's something in there... then that is oh so a-ok with me. Please let there be something in there...
I'm going to enjoy this Christmas no matter what. This could be - if we're lucky and if everything goes ok, but I don't want to say it might because if I do and it doesn't then I don't know what I'll do - our last Christmas with just the two of us. And my parents. And all that stuff. But us as the kids.
And if it's not. There's nothing I can do so I should just enjoy... But keep those legs crossed just in case. And that pain in my side... stop feeling it. If you just go lalalalala, it'll stop existing and everything will be fine.
No emergency room type pain, no blood... then it's probably normal. Probably. Don't panic. It's probably "normal" Deep breaths. Oh wait, that made me nauseous again... ONE MORE DAY!
December 30th:
**Houston we have a (single, normal seven week little cherry of a) heartbeat!**
Q. What do you get when you mix a bicycling ex-ballerina engineer with a sassy sock-fiend lawyer?
A. I don't know, but it's due around around August 14th.
If ever a December has fully embodied the spirit of Advent - of waiting in hope for light through the darkness - this December would be it. After a tough first cycle of treatment and a close scrape with scrapping it all, I found ourselves staring at a positive pregnancy test at the beginning of the month.
Blood tests confirmed, but that early on there is so much fear, doubt and uncertainty. As if moving too quickly or hoping too lucidly would cause the illusion to crumple and fade. Each twinge and each strange feeling (a perpetual event in the first weeks of pregnancy) a moment for unparalleled nerves: experiencing hypochondria for too now!
Would it stick? Was there anything to stick? Had it stuck in the right place or dare I murmur the banes of all hopes: ectopic, molar, blighted? Were those tests a statistical fluke, or a trick of chemistry run rampant? Would the family lore of profligate Wright fertility paired with a bout of super ovulation ensure a full on reality tv show of little creatures in utero? And if so, would the little embryos turn Adella's tender innards into the battle ground for a Machiavellian game of embryonic thrones until all were lost?
But finally - as of the 26th of December - we can say that we've seen a tiny blob that we are assured is a single healthy embryo of seven weeks. There was a heartbeat. There was a blob our doctor assured us was, in fact, a teeny human embryo. It was - blessed word - normal.
It's early yet in the scheme of pregnancy announcements, and there are a billion more things to be paranoid about before we even reach the even more terrifying realization some hapless little life will be stuck with us as parents, and our lives are about to change forever.
But that heartbeat was perhaps the best Christmas gift I can imagine.
Now if you'd excuse me for a minute while I collapse by a nearby toilet (just in case) with a jar of peanut butter and some of these ridiculously huge pickles that my aunts sent me!
No comments:
Post a Comment