Originally posted on 1/9/11.  Reviving some of my earliest posts that I wrote when I had 5 followers and one was me.  I will be mixing in some new posts in the coming days so it won't all be re-runs.  :)   

I struggle with writing about my Recurrent Pregnancy Losses. Not because it is too hard to re-live but because it really seems like writing the same story over and over again, six different times. Sometimes I would start bleeding after a few days. Sometimes I would make it a couple of weeks. Inevitably they all had the same ending. Some were a bit more dramatic like starting to bleed on Christmas Day a mere hour or two after announcing the pregnancy to family. Aside from my first miscarriage, my most mind blowing loss was the result of a doctors awful bedside manner.

I had been seeing a new doctor, a Reproductive Endocrinologist, named Dr. Mooney. My first appointment with Dr. Mooney was a memorable one. It was my first ever appointment with a doctor of any kind where I wasn't in a cold sterile room dressed in a flimsy paper sheet and an embarrassed smile since every time I would move it sounded like I was opening a Snickers bar. I was taken to an office. A real office with a desk, chairs, diplomas, and family pictures. I had always spent my time before an appointment wondering if my but crack was visible since I could never sufficiently cover both my front and my backside with the paper sheet. This time, I sat in a comfortable chair looking at pictures of my doctor with his family rather than a poster about menopause or how the uterus works. Dr. Mooney was a young guy, friendly, with a dry sense of humor. Just my kind of guy. I really had all my money riding on this guy. After a lot of talk I left with no answers but I did have hope. We had a plan for my next pregnancy.

A few weeks later, another positive test. I called the doctor and came in right away for the blood tests. I started twice daily injections of Lovenox as well as daily progesterone suppositories. I was thoroughly convinced that the Lovenox was my golden ticket to a take home baby. My HCG was rising. It wasn't doubling at quite the rate that would make most women convinced but it was adequate enough that the office scheduled my first ultrasound for 6.5 weeks. I was happy.

About a week later I noticed that I was losing my symptoms of pregnancy. Against better judgment, I took a pregnancy test and the pink line, while still there, was much lighter than it should have been at that point of pregnancy. In tears, I called the office and told them what was going on and they wanted me to come in right away for an ultrasound so they could see what was going on. Dr. Mooney was at their office in Columbus so I was going to have to see another doctor in the practice. I didn't mind. I just wanted to be, hopefully, reassured that my home pregnancy test was a fluke and that all was well.

I had to take Gavin with me all the way to the Akron office but the nurses told me ahead of time that it would be no problem to have him with me. They even, on the phone, offered to watch him while I was scanned. Once I arrived I was sent to a nicely decorated ultrasound room but no one was around or offered to take Gavin so I figured he could just sit with me in the room. I undressed and waited. After what seemed like an eternity, a man walked into the room. He grabbed the wand for the internal ultrasound and had it halfway inside of me before he introduced himself and shook my hand. That was likely the most awkward handshake I have ever had. Up until he told me who he was, I could have been being prodded by a janitor for all I knew. After about 45 seconds of looking around he removed the wand, stood up, walked to the door, and placed his hand on the knob. Looking in my general direction he said, "There is no sac in the uterus. Follow up with Dr. Mooney tomorrow to rule out ectopic pregnancy." He then made another movement as if to open the door to leave. I tried as hard as I could to contain my emotions. It was mostly for Gavin's sake who was sitting in his stroller in the corner of the room clueless, but also because I was so angry at this man I didn't want him to see me lose it. I tried to choke down the tears but as I took a deep breath I made that shaky inhale sound that clearly tells everyone within earshot that I was about to sob. He looked back over his shoulder and paused long enough to grab a tissue box, hand it to me, and pat me on the shoulder twice. Then he walked out of the room. Gee, thanks.

I sat in the room for a few minutes regaining what composure I could then walked out of the room down the hall to where they do the blood tests. The nurse there was very nice and gave Gavin a sticker (which he actually didn't want anything to do with) then to schedule with a another woman for a follow up appointment with Dr. Mooney. Whatever that horrible doctor's name was, Dr. Maybeajanitor perhaps, ought to be thankful for his very kind staff. Otherwise, I may never have set foot in that office again.

The pregnancy wasn't ectopic and Dr. Mooney was so much kinder and gentler with me. I did miscarry and the bleeding started moments after this appointment. I went home very seriously contemplating if I could even travel this road again. I was really at a turning point where I had to chose if I could handle another miscarriage or if maybe God's plan had Gavin as my only biological child.

I hadn't made up my mind but I started collecting information on adoption agencies.

Since I have been having a really hard time coming up with much to share, I am going to be reviving some of my earliest posts.  These may be some of my more emotional posts as I relive my journey to hopefully help someone else who sadly has traveled, is traveling or will travel a similar journey.  As always, I love comments, thoughts, and questions.   
        Originally posted on 1/7/11
Having Gavin around was a true joy. He was a dream baby who slept like an angel at night, napped well during the day and was generally a content baby whenever he was awake. Doug and I had decided that after a few short months that we were totally ready for another baby to join our family. It took a while for my cycles to get back to normal but as soon as they did we started trying.

A couple of weeks later I was running errands with Gavin and starting realizing that I was feeling...well... different. Could it be? Really? Already? It took us 8 months total to get pregnant with Gavin so... It couldn't be. Could it? I decided to pick up some pregnancy tests. Just in case. When I got home, I couldn't help but test. It was negative.

The next morning I tried again. This time it was undeniably positive. It was faint but it was definitely two pink lines staring back at me. I had tears of utter excitement welling up in my eyes. I was thrilled that I was going to get to enjoy pregnancy all over again. I picked up Gavin who was just 6 months old at the time and spun in circles. We both smiled and giggled. Granted it was for very different reasons but we we two very happy kids at that moment.

Now, to tell Doug! I decided that I was going to make a Big Brother sign for Gavin to hold. I would take a picture and then put it somewhere for Doug to see. I took about 10 pictures and picked my favorite one. I put it in a frame that was in our living room and waited patiently for Doug to come home from work. That was the longest afternoon ever! It is amazing how slow time passes when you have an exciting secret.

When he came home, I waited for him to see the frame. I waited and waited. Finally I started gesturing in that direction. Nothing. Then I decided to sit between him and the picture so that he would have to notice it. I watched his eyes as he talked to me and then I saw them lock on the wall behind me. He walked up to it, read it, and looked at me as shocked as I had been to see the two lines staring back at me. Hugs and a few tears on my part and thus began the journey all over again. We were having a baby!

A couple of weeks later I started spotting. I scoured the internet for stories of hope of spotting during pregnancy and read over and over again that it could be a miscarriage but spotting is quite common in pregnancy. Every site and resource agreed that as long as there wasn't any cramping and it wasn't a heavy flow then it was probably okay. I tried to stay calm and positive. A day or two later the spotting was turning into light bleeding. I decided it was time to call the doctor. The nurse told me that if I was bleeding then I was to go to the ER. So, off we went. I was taken back almost immediately and they ran some blood tests, gave me a urinary catheter so that they could do an ultrasound and check on baby. A little while later they took me to the ultrasound room. I was nervous but hopeful. I should have been just about 6 weeks pregnant at the time. As the technician started the scan she warned me that she would be unable to tell me anything about what she saw. I was so frustrated but I understood why. I watched her face intently hoping to catch a glimpse of her smile or purse her lips in a restrained frown. I saw nothing. It was as if she was reading a page out of the dictionary. After 20 minutes or so of being poked and prodded I was taken back to my room where Doug and I waited for the results.

After close to an hour a male nurse walked in and said, "I bet you are ready to go home!"

"Uh. Yeah. But I would like to know if I am miscarrying before we go."

"What?! The doctor hasn't talked to you yet?" he asked puzzled.

The doctor was then sent in to talk to us. "Congratulations! You are 6 weeks pregnant!" he said with a smile. He went on to explain what I already knew about spotting being common in pregnancy. They did hand me a piece of paper with big bold letter across the top that said "THREATENED MISCARRIAGE". My mouth dropped open and asked the nurse immediately what this was about. He explained that they always give that to anyone who is spotting or bleeding during pregnancy. I was relieved to hear this and was eager to get home to eat some lunch.

Over the next couple of days the bleeding didn't go away. In fact, it was picking up. I called my OB again as I was starting to lose hope. She was not as reassuring as the doctor at the ER was. She, very matter-of-factly, explained to me over the phone that I may be miscarrying. There was nothing we could do but wait. She did schedule me for an appointment a few days later though. I sobbed uncontrollably. I knew it was over but didn't want to let go. I had already envisioned what my life was going to be like with 2 kids. I had imagined this baby growing inside me and kicking me in a few months. I clung to an unrealistic hope that I was going to be one of those very rare success stories where everyone told them they were going to lose the baby but then discover a heartbeat. I would vacillate between thinking that I was still pregnant and utter heartbreaking realization that it was over.

That night I sat on the couch feeling very different. I wasn't sure what it felt like to be bloated but I thought maybe that is what I felt. I decided to go to the computer to google bloating but before I could go there I instantly had to go to the bathroom. I was undeniably losing the baby. I spent the majority of that night in and out of the bathroom. More in than out. I went to the doctor for my appointment and it was confirmed that I had miscarried but had retained some tissue and the sac was still in my uterus. I opted against the D&C and decided to take a series of pills that would make my uterus contract to hopefully expel the remaining tissue.

I went to the grocery store with a tear stained face. I decided that if I was going to take medicine to help me to deliver the tissue, which I had read could be quite uncomfortable, I was going to do what I could to make me feel better. I bought a bottle of red wine, hot dogs (since I wasn't pregnant anymore and could eat them again), dark chocolate, ice cream, and a big package on feminine pads. I think I actually chuckled as I put the items on the conveyor belt. What I sight I must have been.

By the next morning I had passed the tissue and what I presumed to be the sac. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to flush what should have been my second baby down the toilet so I put it in a plastic bag. Doug and I walked to the top of the hill near our house and dug a hole. We said a prayer and I cried. Again.

We walked back to the house to resume our lives. I knew that we would never be the same after that experience. There was something missing from my heart. There still is.

I have been having a really hard time coming up with anything to write about.  I am not feeling overly hopeful.  I'm not feeling incredibly inspired by much.  I have random thoughts that I think may one day be worthy of being shared but when I try to put words to them, I write a sentence or two and then my mind wanders to something else. 

I don't know if it is because I just really thought that I would be pregnant by now.  I don't know if maybe I feel unjustified in being down about infertility when others are still waiting for their first baby.  It might even have something to do with the fact that to treat my back pain the doctor prescribed steroids that made me so sick that I spent the last 72 hours either throwing up or sleeping.  I guess that can really take the creative, positive edge out of the best of us.  So, instead of subjecting you to my continued ramblings of a neither here nor there blogger, I'll share with you this guest post I wrote for Arpita @ Up, Down, & Natural back in July.

I really enjoyed writing that post.  Now, five months later, I am pretty sure that I am at that same singles bar as a polygamist in search of my third spouse.  I am getting used to the funny looks and the eye rolls from those who don't understand me.  In fact, my own doctor scolded me.  She asked, "What's wrong?  Aren't you happy with the two you've got?"

I am so happy with the two I have!  But, if you had the worlds best ... oh... let's say... doughnut.  Would you say, "Wow that doughnut was so good that I will have one more but never again will I want to enjoy a doughnut that good again.  Two is enough for me."  I don't know.  Maybe some people's tastes change and they crave something different but for me, I want another of those doughnuts!  Maybe with a cup of coffee... Mmmmmm

I hope you all are having a great weekend! 

Today I went for my baseline ultrasound to make sure I didn't have any cysts from last round of clomid and to get started on the new cycle.  Today, I didn't have my classmate doctor.  I didn't have Dr. Eminem either.  Today I had a tall, nondescript, soft spoken fella.  A half a step behind was the non-muppet version of Bert (from Bert and Ernie) as his med student side kick.

As Bert furrowed his uni-brow, I managed to contort myself just enough to see the ultrasound screen.  Dr Bert didn't really use words as much as making his uni-brow into a peak in the general direction of the tall fella.  That is when I spoke up and said, "Let me guess.  That is a cyst."  And... I was right.

I was given the decision to use birth control pills to make the cyst go away and take a cycle off from the Clomid or just take a cycle off from the Clomid and let the cyst take care of itself.  I opted to just let nature take care of the cyst.  I am actually okay with this since I wasn't looking forward to another cycle of appointments, hormones, and hopes.  This way, if God intends us to get pregnant, it can still happen and I can just... wait for it.... wait for it.... relax.  Yep I said it.  This infertile girl is just going to relax and see what happens.

Plus, I have a little something else on my plate right now.  Starting Tuesday night I starting having some pretty uncomfortable back pain.  While it didn't feel good, I was confident that after a hot shower and some Icy Hot, I would be fine.  Yesterday I had to call Doug at work and ask him to come home.  Lifting Joey (who is a healthy 31+ pounds) several times a day was proving to be painful.  I was trying to be a tough girl but when Doug appeared at the door, I cried.  I was in so much pain and seeing him there was like going from survival mode to being rescued.  All of the sudden I gave myself permission to admit how much pain I was in.  It hasn't gotten any better.  In fact, each day is more pain than the last so after my ultrasound, I stopped into my General Practitioner (and family friend) to see if she could squeeze me in.  Thankfully she could, and I am now in a back brace, taking steroids, muscle relaxers and pain meds.  I am feeling artificially better but Doug is going to stay home and be Mr. Mom for the next couple of days so I can rest and hopefully be back in working order by Monday.

So, after further thought... I'm wondering if my ability to utter the words, "Just relax."  is a direct result of my medications.  I think I'm ready for a nap.

Do you have any idea where I am?

Why do I feel like you can see me?

It's like you are looking right AT me!

Seriously.  You can see me can't you?

This isn't fun anymore.  I get it.  You smile because you can still see me.

Peek-a-boo! There! Are you satisfied?!

Maria asked me to share my experiences with pregnancy loss and how Welcome Womb has helped me.

We welcomed our daughter Lily into our family in August of 2006. We knew we wanted to have more children, and had hoped to space them a few years apart. Life always has other plans for you though, and our 2 year spacing quickly turned into 4 before we were ready to try for our second child. We had such an easy time getting pregnant the first time, that we thought the second time would be just as simple.

We started our journey in January this year. By the end of February, our second cycle of trying, we had that longed for two lines on the stick. I was stunned and heartbroken to lose that baby at 5 weeks and 2 days.

We were determined to try again, and again had success on our second cycle after the miscarriage. In June, at 9 weeks and 2 days, I lost that baby as well. It was explained to me that most of the time, we never really know why an early miscarriage happens. Testing can only offer so many answers. I went through a battery of blood tests, only to have them come back “Normal”. How can anyone feel normal again, after losing a baby?

After some time spent grieving, I hit the internet for support. I chart my cycles, following the method from Taking Charge of Your Fertility. I knew from reading about the experiences of other women that charting for fertility is something doctors are not always familiar with. It’s something that is usually suggested to women who are experiencing infertility.

I knew I wasn’t infertile. I had normal cycles; I ovulated without fail every month. We had no problem getting pregnant. It was the staying pregnant that was the issue. There had to be something I could do. Vitamins, minerals, herbs – anything was worth a try.

On the TCOYF site, I found a post talking about an herbal product called Welcome Womb. I was already drinking Red Raspberry Leaf tea daily, as a uterine tonic. It was in this thread that I read Maria’s story, and learned that after 6 losses she used Welcome Womb during her pregnancy with her youngest son.

I was intrigued, and did some more reading. I had read enough about the individual herbs in Welcome Womb to know that they have been used for centuries to help women maintain a pregnancy. I ordered it and waited for my charts to line up. I started the WW the same day as ovulation. I have never had a positive pregnancy test earlier than 16 days past ovulation. On a whim, I tested at 11 days and was stunned to see those two lines. My doctor had already prescribed progesterone supplements, so I started taking them immediately after getting the positive result.

My first two beta tests came back with fantastic numbers, and an early ultrasound showed a good strong heartbeat. I am now 12 weeks along, and doing well. My Obstetrician was pleased to hear that I was experiencing morning sickness, only because it meant I had strong HCG levels. I’m not sure I share her enthusiasm for the morning sickness, but I know it means that I AM pregnant and that my body is doing what it needs to do. To me, the Welcome Womb was the difference.

It was a leap of faith to try the Welcome Womb, but when you have lost a baby or two or more, anything is worth a try. I am so glad I did.