Good news, terrible news and what are we going to do news

I was hesitant to take this blog back up when I discovered my husband shared the link with a real life friend. I had used this as an outlet to be a headcase, to whine and mope and ask the what ifs. I was worried to let the infertile me be exposed to the real world. This has always been my place to compartmentalize my problems, but I know how helpful it is to hear real life success stories, from behind a curtain or not.

So, let me catch you up to speed (real-life friend and otherwise). We had our transfer the end of March of two BB frozen blastocysts. The first two thawed perfectly and we had two left for later. The transfer was smooth and the valium knocked me out this time. I spent the two-week wait caring for a toddler, doing chores, going to acupuncture and drinking pomegranate juice. Basically, I broke the rules and tried to over-compensate. It worked.

Our first betas was just below ideal at 92 11dp5dt. I was a headcase and overly sad because the nurse emphasized the below ideal. But they went up nicely from there, over two hundred then over five hundred at 15dp5dt. I had minimal symptoms, fatigue and vein-y breasts. But I also was surprised by the cramping. I didn't remember a whole lot of that the last time.

I was very stressed about the minimal symptoms. My acupuncturist said that it was because my qi was so in balance. My mom said it was because my body was used to it. The internet said it was still early.  The ultrasound said it was because my baby stopped growing at 5 weeks.

Our doctor said she was shocked that we had this outcome with our strong numbers. Our little baby was measuring 11 days behind and didn't have a fetal pole at 6 weeks and 4 days. I wanted to pass out or throw up. I had a feeling something was wrong, but had hope that it was my infertility paranoia. I had to make the decision to keep taking my meds and come back in a few days for a re-check and a miracle, or believe the facts and say goodbye.

I was numb. I cried, but was still holding our hope. My husband was shaken but accepted the news with heartbreaking understanding. I've since vacillated between sadness, despair and crippling fear. Last time, we went straight to ivf and had immediate success. All of the hiccups in my pregnancy could be attributed to my infertility brain, believing something terrible was going to happen for little logical reason. But my pregnancy went well and I had a healthy, beautiful baby boy.

The problem was never mine. My body responded to medicine perfectly. When I got pregnant, I stayed pregnant. Here I am, three years later wondering if something is wrong with our embryos, wondering if something is wrong with my body. Will we be able to have another? Can we afford to pursue treatment again and again if we continue to have losses? Can I handle it emotionally? I feel like I have tumbled down an entirely new path of infertility that it terrifying.

If I could look into the future and see my family with another child, I wouldn't stress about the money or the toll treatments would take on my mind, body and pocketbook. Knowing that we could go down that road and come out with nothing to show for it is terrifying.

In the meantime, I will hug my boy. I will kiss my husband. I will thank God for the family he has made for me. But I will always wish to be pregnant again, hope to make my son a brother, and pray for a second healthy baby.

4dp5dt

Since our successful IVF in February 2010, we have moved to a new state. This of course meant we had to ship our totsicles, and even in a landlocked state, we were affected by Sandy. Thanks to the miracles of science, they arrived in our new hometown safe and sound.

You see, I am a very superstitious person. It worked the first time with a dedicated and skilled set of professionals, a doctor and nurse that I saw each visit, an acupuncturist who was my biggest cheerleader, and a no b.s. obgyn. I loved them all. Now, we're working with a wannabe baby factory and rarely see the same doctors or nurses. My acupuncturist would rather talk about our toddlers that are the same age, and I haven't seen my ob in months.

But, despite hurricanes and moves and a clown-car of health professionals, we transferred 2 grade B blasts last Thursday. The valium knocked me out this time and I felt hazy all day. My new clinic only requires 24 hours of bedrest, so I was back to my mothering routine the next day.

This time I'm on pio rather than the crinone and my rear hurts like b*tch. It also means my symptoms are already ramping up. I feel crampy off and on, and from what I've read, with a progesterone dose as high as mine, this means nothing.

I felt really positive and optimistic for the first 48 hours and now I'm back to my old infertile panic-prone self. I hate it. I'm praying, acupuncturing, and pleading. Anyone have any other tips?