Post- (Almost) Everything Update

My most sincere thank-you's to all of y'all sweet gals who left birthday (and Earth Day) wishes for me. It brought me to near tears - all of those wonderful well wishes. I sure needed them. And they did my heart so much good.

The CVS went as well as such a thing can go. I wasn't nervous. Just stoic. There is still a fetus. I don't know if it is measuring on schedule because I just plain forgot to ask. It has all appendages. And apparently likes to wave its left arm around a lot.

Or maybe it was just trying to shoot me the finger for some days giving it more drugs than nutrition. Safely, doctor-perscribed drugs that is. I haven't resorted to medical marijuana (legal here) to quell the nausea. Not really thinking my OB will consider mary jane such a good idea.

The preliminary results will be in on Monday morning. Which - I think - is the third anniversary of That Was The Plan.

I am not an overly religious person but I do converse with God, Buddha and a small cadre of my favorite saints when the going gets tough. I've been praying a lot that this unrelenting nausea and near constant urge to vomit depart soon. My family can only take so much of it. And I want the old me back. So very badly.

My protocol is 8 mg of Z0fran 2x per day. I've developed evil headaches from it - a side effect. Some days I try to get by on one dose. I take 1 Un1som at night, which is about the only thing that works. Though it knocks me clear out so taking it during the day with Missy is a no-go.

They tried Phenegran(sp?) but it didn't work. The Z0fran prevents me - for the most part - from vomiting but it does not help the nausea one bit. Have you ever felt so nervous or scared that you were on the verge of throwing up? That's the feeling I walk around with from about the moment I sit upright in bed until I lay down at night or during Missy's nap.

Hence, I have a lot of trouble eating. I have lost 3 pounds this month. It concerns me because I'm three months pregnant and nearly at what I consider my "fighting weight" for my not-pregnant body.

Nothing glamorous for myself post-CVS or on my birthday. I don't have the energy to plan anything. And surprising the wife with a spa gift certificate is, apparently, in Cowboy's estimation, sooo first pregnancy. (Well, I mean, so first non-miscarried pregnancy).

As for Earth Day, my goal this year was to begin baking our own bread. But since the only thing my oven has seen in the past three months is frozen pizza for Missy and Cowboy, I've failed mightily at that goal.

Stay tuned for Monday. I will post the results as soon as I process them. If all is well, we will find out the gender, too.

Thank you again for your love, support and bearing with me through yet another post about nausea.

Day by day

Sometimes hour by hour. That's how roll these days.

And this week, in particular.

It is week 11. CVS week. On Thursday. I should have the results by this time next Monday.

I am so not connected to this pregnancy. (I know this is a horrible sentence to put on an infertility and miscarriage blog so I write this with much gravity). Perhaps I am staying unconnected so I can control myself through the spectrum of outcomes - one of which is certain to happen - both good or bad - that the CVS will bring.

The sad thing is that I will not even feel relief with a positive outcome. Because it means I will still be so sick for who knows how long. God, what another horrible thing to write. Even to think.

I try to keep the big picture in view. I really do. But it only lasts for about 15 minutes as I lay in bed before Missy wakes up. Then I get up, the nausea kick starts and I try to make it through another day.

The only thing I look forward to is when I take a Un1som tablet and drift to sleep at the end of the day - sleep being my only refuge from the extreme fatigue and nausea.

Which is a third horrible thing to write when I have a life full of things in which to bestowe much gratitude.

Gratitude but precious little joy. Is there such a thing?

Your Feedback Solicited Here

We have a CVS scheduled for April 22 during week 11.

The CVS was originally scheduled for April 19 (Monday) but then my lovely husband asked me to please change it because he has to prepare for his company's annual shareholder meeting also that week. I need him to take the day off to care for Missy post-procedure as I am supposed to rest and not lift anything for 24 hours following.

Changing the CVS by a few days is no big deal. Unless you count my nerves. And that I will now have to wait through an entire weekend to get the early results, instead of getting them a mere 48 hours later. And that April 22 is the day before my birthday.

So what do you think that kind of trade-off warrants?

It is so not like me, but a posh hotel room by my lonesom, room service and in-room facial spring to mind.

Sorry to sound like such a whiner. But I'm sick of feeling sick and so very tired. I just needed to vent.

Several IV Bags Later

Good Lord. I just spent a good spate of time in the L&D ward where I delivered Missy. Hooked up to an IV dripping several bags of delicious hydration into my body. The Z0fran wasn't bad either. Took the edge off.

Nausea hit hard and fast late last week. I managed well for a few days but then it just accelerated. I couldn't keep anything down. Which put me in a downward spiral, dehydrating me further. No energy. Dry heaving the nothingness in my gut. Lying awake at night with gnawing hunger, dry mouth and so much nausea I could barely leave the bed. It was a very desperate feeling.

My OB admitted me right away. And the kind nurses pumped me with fluids. I feel almost human again.

I also had an ultrasound, which showed a measuring-spot-on embryo with a heartbeat of 124 at 6.5 weeks.

The daily Z0fran and the nightly Un1som tablets keep the harshest nausea away. I still have a constant low-grade nausea that hangs about me like a robe but I now I can manage it.

The whole experience has left me feeling like such a hypocrite. Here I try to be all natural-like but when push comes to shove I'm the one begging for the extra 2 ounces of Z0fran and am popping my nightly Un1som like it's Pez.

At least the wee one has cleared another hurdle.

Not so sure about momma.

First Hurdle Cleared

Second beta = 783

Up 139% from 48 hours earlier. Well over doubling.

They didn't test my progesterone again. Damn. Sometimes I want my RE back. I begged the nurse for another progesterone test. Told them it dropped with Missy the first few weeks of her gestation. So I am waiting to hear what they say.

They want me to schedule an ultrasound in the next few weeks. I LOVE my OB, but - again - am missing Dr. Stretch, my old RE. With him, I had a very set protocol: (1) initial beta, (2) second beta, (3) beta, (4) u/sound at 6.5 weeks to look for a heart beat, (5) follow-up ultrasound at 9.5 weeks to look for heart beta and fetal movement.

And you know how much I love a good plan.

Now I just feel left to wing it. So I am wondering: should I schedule an u/sound for 2 weeks out, which would put me at 7.5 weeks, where we may see a heart beat (please, please, please!)? Or should I wait (can I wait it out?) another week and hope to see a heart beat and maybe some movement at 8.5 weeks?

Thoughts and suggestions gladly accepted.

I know this all sounds a little bit desperate. Especially in light of my misgivings just a few days ago. Bottom line: I'll take another baby any day over another miscarriage, even though I have very little say in either matter at this point.

On a related night, I finally told Cowboy last night. That man's optimism never fails to inspire me.

"C'mon...aren't you just a little bit excited?" he asked after digesting the news.

"You know, honey, it just doesn't work for me like that anymore," I replied, "I have to take it one day at a time."

We read in silence for a few minutes.

"Okay, but what about some more girl names?"

That man. He never fails to make me smile.

But of course...

So the story goes: Last Sunday it was a gorgeous spring day skiing. Missy was in "ski school" and for the past two weekends has not even cried when I dropped her off. She's like, "See ya, Momma. Gotta go play at the snow table." (Well, she doesn't talk in sentences yet. But if she did, the look on her face indicates that this is what she would most likely say.)

Cowboy and I are taking a break in the deck chairs, facing the late winter sunshine. I think I'm cool with this one kid thing, I thought. My child is in day care. Date day with my husband.

Which means of course that on Monday I get a BFP.

Beta for 12 (?) dpo is 327. Which seems kind of high.

Well, it might be 12 dpo. I wasn't even using CBEFM this month because I ran out of pee sticks and somehow couldn't muster the time or energy to go to the pharmacy across town that carries them.

Progesterone is 37 without prometrium. Bagged that the back half of this cycle, too.

Trying not to be freaked out.
Trying to play it cool.
Trying not to get any hopes up, despite my post from yesterday.

No one knows except for my OB and the few of you still reading this blog. I haven't even told Cowboy yet.