She's here!

Oh happy day!  O happy day!  Yes, that is the chant I was singing this morning.  I woke a bit earlier than normal, took my temp and noticed a drop from 97.7 to 97.3.  Dramatic, seriously.  And then, there she was that elusive period!  Sorry if this is too much information, but I honestly am so excited and relieved.  

I'll admit it, I cried. 

Since the miscarriage and the waiting, I did assume the worst. My mind quickly and easily went to that place.  I imagined the worst.  In many ways, it is easier to imagine the worst so when you get the good news, you truly are relieved.  Certainly it must be better than assuming the best to find out the worst?  Brett, in many ways, is a quiet optimist.  He just doesn’t let his mind go to those dark places that mine can go.  Maybe it is because I have quite literally already been there.  I’ve seen the landscape, know the terrain.  

To be honest, I have a hard time trusting that my body can do what it's supposed to do.  I blame that on cancer.  When I was 29, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and in hindsight, I had never felt so betrayed by the universe and my body.   When I came out, not unscathed (a mastectomy, 6 months of chemotherapy, and 5 weeks of radiation) but at least free and clear of cancer, I did not know how to feel about my body.  I still don’t.  It is truly a mystery and despite what most doctors would have us believe, it is a mystery to them, too.   I haven’t called my doctor to give her the good news yet, but I know she will be relieved and excited.  She was my 2^nd opinion when I thought that perhaps there was something going on before I had cancer.  She had pushed me to have a biopsy.  She has said, it is her mission to get me knocked up and I believe her.  She and I have been through a lot together, as far as patients and doctors go.

When I was diagnosed with cancer, my friend and colleague Barb gave me a Saint Peregrine coin.  I carry it with me to this day.  When I was married and moved to China, she gave me a Saint Christopher painting.  When I posted this blog for the first time, she told me about St. Gerard, patron saint of Motherhood.  I’m not a religious person, but most of my family is Catholic.  I didn’t grow up in the religion, but I do feel a connection to it in the sense that it is part of my family’s story.  And with that, comes a fascination with saints.  I find comfort thinking that there is someone looking out for us, willing to advocate for us, helping to see our dreams come true.  People who lived good lives, devoted themselves to others and even in the ‘afterlife’ still have duties.  There is something sweet and selfless in that and it is comforting, especially when we find ourselves in dark places.  I have thought about St. Gerard since Barb mentioned him. 

Today, I finally feel a sense of closure and for the first time in a long while, hope and joy about where we go from here. 

Where are you spring?

Spring is attempting to break through the last few weeks, as winter desperately hangs on.  The daffodils are in full bloom, the crocus are out, and yet the past few mornings snow showers were falling.  Temperatures remain in the 30s at night, rising nearly 20 degrees during the day.  But still, it is chilly. It is nice to know that in less than a week, we will be warming our bodies on the sands of Mexico.  A much needed relief.  

I am a weather junky, so it comes as no surprise to me (or those who know me) that when I heard about charting your own temperatures to keep track of your monthly cycle - I was all over it.  It is the aspiring forecaster in me.

I have become an expert on temperatures.  I take mine every morning at 6 a.m.  I purchased a special Basal temperature months ago and went through many phases of diligence.  However, since February, I have been a die-hard temperature taker.  In some ways, it helps me feel like I have a little insight into my body.  I took my temperature chart with me to my latest acupuncture appointments to seek a 2^nd opinion.  It appears that I might have ovulated this month.  And for the first time since December, my chart looks ‘normal.’  

Things you learn…Apparently, your basal body temperature is your lowest temperature of the day.  Women can actually chart their monthly cycle by looking at their waking temperature.  The temp readings are to the tenth degree, so it is quite subtle, but noticeable when you are desperate for some glimmer into your body’s inner workings.  Because I don't have a previous cycle to base my temperatures on, it is a bit difficult.  The only point I can go with is ovulation.  The short dip in temp and rise right after.  That is there.  Then, you hope the temps stay up for at least 10 days.  If you see this you know that 1) you have indeed ovulated, which means your body is producing enough estrogen to produce a follicle and 2) when the temperature rises right after, your body has released the egg and the follicle continues to produce enough progesterone to keep the uterus in prime condition to support a fertilized egg.  These are all things you want your body to do naturally and can see through your temperature - it's amazing to me.

Like the past 4 months, I am waiting to see what happens.  If all is well in my body, based on my temperature readings (another drop after the progesterone high), I should start my period any day.  What will be confirmed if I don’t is that there is most likely scarring.  I have heard it diagnosed as Asherman’s syndrome on the web and it looks like the hysteroscopy I will have in April is the procedure that will both diagnosis and treat it.  The odds are good that it will be successful and we will be successful in our hopes. 

I am hopeful and optimistic that this blasted period will come this month, but I am also trying to prepare myself for nothing.  I have the appointment scheduled; I know that if not this month, then in the coming months, blah, blah, blah.  But it would be so, so, so very nice if it did.   It would all at once give us a sense of closure and beginnings.  

I will continue to chant my affirmation - I am healthy.  

Where do we go from here...

The weekend after the D & C, we went to the coast with a group of friends and their kids.  I felt like I was in a daze, the fog had never cleared for me.  And truly, I felt empty.  It was like I had been on an adrenaline high since October and now I was crashing hard.  The future seemed bleak.

It wasn't easy for us as a couple either.  I was insistent on our next steps.  Sounding like Obama talking about his jobs bill - WE MUST GET PREGNANT...RIGHT AWAY.  Brett was less than enthusiastic.  We found ourselves at an impasse - I felt certain of the future I wanted, while he felt this was an opportunity to be circumspect about it and went back to a place of ambivalence.  In my head, it made sense, but in my heart, it sucked.  I knew that our experiences with the pregnancy were drastically different.  I had felt the hormonal and physical changes and they were interwoven with my emotions - tightly woven.  For him, the baby was merely an idea, a possibility that was yet to be a reality.  They say women become mother's the moment they are pregnant, men become father's when they hold the baby for the first time.

The first month was rough.  We got through Thanksgiving with a barrage of family and friends.  I had previously imagined this would have been the moment we told everyone that we were having a baby.  And now, we weren't only not telling folks we were having a baby, we weren't telling them we lost one either.  We were as quiet about that fact, too.  I'm not sure the reason, except to say that at that time, I couldn't talk about it without crying.  In fact, that is often true even some four months after the fact.

December 2nd rolled around, a month since the miscarriage.  I'd marked on my calendar that we would start trying again this month, as soon as my period returned.  But it didn't.  I called my doctor frantically, "Why hasn't it started? How long should it take?"  She advised me to wait 6 weeks before calling back.  I did and it didn't come back.  I called again, "It really could take up to 8 weeks. Give it some more time and call back."

I started to see an acupuncturist in the hopes that I could feel like I was doing something besides waiting around.  I kept taking pregnancy tests, thinking that maybe we would be the lucky ones who get pregnant right away after a miscarriage; but no such luck.  Jo, my acupuncturist, is a god-send.  She started me on herbal supplements - false unicorn root (hopefully it is as magical as it sounds) and vitex.  Two herbs known to help regulate your cycle and prepare your body for pregnancy.  But still no period.

After 10 weeks, we went in for blood work.  No thyroid problems, no hormone issues - all signs pointed towards a healthy body.  But still, no period.  She put me on 10 days of progesterone - lovingly called "The Progesterone Challenge." I failed - no period.  I went in for an ultrasound and a saline histogram.  There was the slight possibility that I had scarring in my uterine lining that was preventing regular cycles or any cycle at all.  Unfortunately, she couldn't maneuver the catheter the way she needed and so couldn't do the procedure.  She did notice, however, on ultrasound that my lining was about 1mm - very, very, very thin. 

So, she put me on a month of birth control pills to see if the estrogen would help boost my lining and bring on a period.  I failed this challenge, too.  Nothing.  We had another failed saline histogram, but she did notice that my lining had increased thickening - up to 5 mm, but still, very thin.

It is now, quite possible, that the problem is a scarred uterine lining that is preventing my cycle from returning and ultimately prevent us from getting pregnant as it currently is.  I continue to take supplements, downing raspberry tea like you can't imagine, boosting my herbal supplements, and hoping that it isn't scarring and that my cycle will regulate itself here soon enough.  I am losing hope of that solution each day.

Due to the failed histograms and the lack of cycles, Dr. Johnson has scheduled me for a hysteroscopy.  Not to be confused with a hysterectomy!  I will have to go under anesthesia while she uses a camera to visually look inside my uterus for scarring or other issues that may be at work.  During the procedure she will be able to remove any scarring and hopefully get us back on the train to babytown.

We had originally scheduled for March 23rd, the day before spring break and two days before we head off to Sayulita, Mexico, but we have decided to reschedule.  Although we want to get things going soon, we don't want to potentially ruin our vacation to do it.  So we will wait, something we are getting pretty good at.

And just like that...it was gone

We kept mum for for most of the first month we knew we were having a baby.  We did tell a few close friends and our moms.  But for the most part, we kept it pretty close to our chest.  In hindsight, I guess maybe there was this part of us that knew not to expect that all things would go perfectly.  We are, after all, on the older end of the having baby spectrum.

Our first appointment was set for Tuesday, November 2nd.  Only about a month after we found out.  It was a foggy morning and although I was excited, there was a sense of apprehension or holding back.  Two days prior, I had bent over to get something out of the oven and my back spasmed.  At the time, I thought it was just my back acting up.  It had happened before.  But knowing now what I do, it is often a sign that you've lost the baby.

I was laying on the exam table staring at the ceiling and wondering what the hell was happening.  I refuse to look at the screen projecting the ultrasound, afraid the amateur doctor in me will come to crazy conclusions that will throw me into a panic.  The ultra sound nurse did her thing and Brett held my hand.  When she finished, she said she didn't want us to wait there until the doctor came in wondering or thinking things were okay.  She told us that she couldn't hear the heartbeat - we'd lost the baby.  It was there, all 6.5 weeks of her or him, but no heartbeat.  We were deflated, to say the least.  

Options...ones we wish we didn't have. We could let it happen naturally, which could happen right away or in weeks.  We could bring it on with pills.  I decided to go in the following day for a D & C in Dr. Johnson's office.  I just wanted to put this behind us.  I didn't want to wait around and relive the moment she told us we weren't having a baby.  We cried and she assured us that the good news was that we could get pregnant. 

It was reassuring to know that, especially since the experience taught me something about myself that I didn't really know before.  I now knew that I wanted to have a baby.  We had gone into this thing ambivalent; we could go either way.  But now I knew that I couldn't go back to that.  I wanted us to have a baby.