I am normal. Damn.

Well, normal when it comes to my reproductive capacity.

Just to recap, after m/c #2 we conducted the following 3 of 4 tests typically given as part of Recurrent Miscarriage Panel:

(1) HSG – to check for abnormalities in the female reproductive organs.
(2) Clomid Challenge Test – to check ovarian reserve
(3) Immunulogical Work-up (on me) – to check for about 12 disorders that are believe to contribute to miscarriage.

I checked out normal on all of them.

Diagnosis: a case of bad luck.

Fuck.

On one hand, I am grateful and relieved that there is nothing wrong. On the other, it is just so frustrating that there is nothing, absolutely nothing I can do or not do that will prevent another miscarriage. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

Talk to women who have suffered miscarriages and they’ll tell you that they rack their brains to come up with a reason why it happened. Was it that long run? Maybe I caused the miscarriage because I wasn’t sure we could manage another baby? Maybe I worked too many hours?

If you can pinpoint a reason for your loss, you rationalize that you can control it in future pregnancies.

But in most cases – and it seems, in mine – it is just a matter of letting go and embracing that a lot of the whole thing with miscarriage is chance. It is weird to think that women who have something diagnosed are the lucky ones. They can manage the issue. The rest of us just have to hope and pray that one good egg meets one good sperm and everything goes okay. While I am becoming used to this sort of acceptance of fate and timing, I still have trouble fully embracing it. But I guess I have to start.

So, here’s the plan:

DIY cycles through September. If I am not pregnant by September, Dr. Stretch wants us to come back in and talk about next steps.

Use OPKs each month (as if) and start a regimen of twice daily prometrium 200 mg two days after ovulation. After reviewing blood work from both pregnancies and my BBT charts, Dr. Stretch thinks I may have a progesterone deficiency. He suspects that the first pregnancy may have been complicated by low progesterone. The second one looks like a classic abnormal chromosome issue based on the timing and how quickly the beta dropped.

I asked about using Clomid in the front half of my cycle to boost the progesterone in the back half. Dr. Stretch noted that the complementary relationship between Clomid and progesterone is not always the case and that Clomid can be a detriment in DIY cycles when you are relying on optimal cervical fluid to make things happen.

If I get pregnant and miscarry again, we will have the his-&-hers DNA karotype tests done.

So that’s the plan.

Oh and he also wanted me to take a beta since I was at CD 26.

Yeah so I took a freakin’ official doctor pregnancy test yesterday. Wasn’t expecting that one. But it did save me from buying some HPTs. Screw you, Blue Cross Blue Shield.

It was too late in the afternoon to get the results back so I’ll hear today.

I really don’t think I am pregnant since I don’t have any symptoms except really high temperatures, which – I think – are directly correlated to my Prometrium use. Does anyone have experience with seeing higher temps in the back half of your cycle while using progesterone? I was nauseous last night. But I think that was just nerves.

I have tried to prepare myself for the following in advance of this afternoon's phone call:

(a) I am not pregnant. Even though I think I am not, hearing someone confirming it or having one line stare back at you always brings on a bout of disappointment.

(b) I am pregnant, but the beta is low and the pregnancy is not viable. I try not to dwell on this too much but wanted to plan for this scenario.

(c) I am…okay let’s not even go there.

So, that’s my day. What are you up to?

That and I have an interview for a new job. Perfect timing.

Our trip home to Texas was really great. My parents are so terrific. I will write about it later this week, as I wanted to get the RE stuff out of the way.

Clean Slate

That is what yesterday felt like. It was CD 1 so I called Dr. Stretch, my RE, to schedule my Clomid Citrate Challenge Test and HSG. We also elected to have an immunological work-up done.

After some quick math from a couple different resources, we surmised that these 3 tests will cover between 90-93% of all the known and most frequently occuring physiological reasons that can cause recurrent miscarriage. We are saving the his-&-hers DNA karotype analysis, which affects between 7-10% of couples who have recurrent miscarriage and cost $800 a pop, for later.

"Are you available to come in today?"

And with that, we were officially whisked into the world of assisted reproductive therapy.

14 vials of blood, 2 perscriptions (one for mothers-little-helper Clomid & one for a pre-and post-HSG antibiotic) and one dildocam later, we were on our way.

Actually, I was on my way.

While Cowboy's been SUPER through this whole RE thing, he's nicknamed Cowboy for a reason. Sensitivity is not in his bag of tricks. Neither is talking about "lady" things. The poor guy already had a full scale drawing of a uterus and fallopian tubes shoved in his face during our initial consult with Dr. Stretch. So I wanted to spare him the dildocam experience.

Puh-lease. It's not like we have to share everything.

Although he would have been right proud because apparently I've got a "great looking uterus." What a random thing to announce. But, then again, I was proud of my ute and ovaries, which are housing 14 follicles at the moment. I don't do all that yoga, acupuncture and nasty Chinese herb swilling for nothing, you know.

Oh gosh, what's this?

Why, Ms. Planner, it sounds like something called, "hope." You know Hope. I believe you referred to her as a cruel, fucking evil mistress a few months back.

Oh, yes. Her.

Of course, there was Hope peering her head around the corner. She made me feel pleasant and bouncy on what is normally a lousy CD1. Like all of our baby problems would be solved by this RE's office.

The obviously despondent patient scanning her calendar in the reception area as I checked out brought me crashing back to earth.

You see, I was starting to expect that this might be easy street: Have a few tests; take a few drugs; do it on Day 12,13 & 14; and presto! pregnancy that makes it all 9 months.

But I MUST remember that this will be a much longer path to mom-hood. I'll need the endurance and positive outlook to make it in one piece.

The low down:
Day 1 FSH & Estradiol report back on 5/21.
Clomid taking commences 5/22 - 5/26.
HSG scheduled for 5/25.
CCCT part 2 on 5/27 - right in the middle of Memorial Day weekend.
Immunological results back on 5/30.

What a month May has turned out to be.

P.S. I have been tagged by a couple of my blog friends for the 8 Things and I AM memes. I promise I will work on them this weekend.

I just learned how to post images to That Was the Plan. How nifty is that!

This one seems appropriate enough to start with, eh?

Cowboy wanted to use this photo as our annual holiday postcard. See, since we have no human baby, our fur baby adorns the card each year.

Lest you think we are sickos, we didn't try to get Gus to do this. Seriously, he does exactly THIS whenever we are around snow (which is a lot). It only happens when it is snowing. And only to Cowboy. I should point out that Gus has been neutered for more than a decade. Super random.

Notice how Cowboy is shielding his eyes to protect the not-so-innocent. Tee hee.

Here he is for real. Awwww!

Anyone else out there treat their pets like the children they don't have yet? Yeah, I thought so. At least you can keep them in the garage when you have a dinner party. (Actually, now that he is so old, Gus sleeps through our dinner parties).

CD 1 - FINALLY! Scheduling Clomid Challenge Test, HSG & Immunological work-up today.

Well, that was the plan, wasn't it?

Hello everyone. I am a late-thirty something who lives in the Pacific Northwest. We have been married for 2 years and started getting it on sans birth control last summer.

The first four months that we were officially off birth control, we missed the good times due to one of us being out of town for work. Our fifth cycle – the one where the mister and I were miraculously in the same zip code when the OPK turned the-exact-same-color-as-the-control-line-blue – we managed to get knocked up.

Holy frickin damn! Look at how awesome we are, I thought. Yeah, we nailed that b*tch. I gave away my copy of TCOYF and How to Get Pregnant Naturally (snicker). I now want to do something really mean to the smarmy UVA doctor who wrote that one and got me addicted to OPKs. Anyway, I digress.

WE were the champions of conception. WE didn’t have to worry about any of this IF shite. Ha! It didn’t even matter that I am in my late 30’s and the mister (aka Cowboy, seriously that’s my nickname for him) is early 40’s. WE were the cat’s ass.

Au contraire, mon frair.

Apparently while we were great about getting pg, we weren’t so great at staying pg. We m/c’ed a few weeks later. 3 days after my first pregnant lady appointment. How embarrassing is that? Yep, we went from hero to zero. More stories about Junior #1 in another post.

That was 6 months ago. And like I said: hero to zero.

Actually hero to below zero. We’re talking negative integers here, people. Because 14 days ago I just received my second BFP. Yay! And 7 days ago I miscarried. Again. Boo!

If I sound like I am trying to be funny, it’s really just a slightly maniacal side of myself that I’m starting to get to know.

Losing Junior #2 (it sucks being the middle child doesn’t it) also means we are in another recovery period. During which time we’ll have our first meeting with an RE because apparently now I’m in the SUPER FUN recurrent fetal loss club. Do you at least get a letterman-style sweatshirt with RFL on it?

OK, OK. I can hear those of who have been on this crazy IF and sub-IF roller coaster for waaay tooooo long sayin’ “Sister, you don’t even know… eight months? A freakin’ jog around the block compared to what I’ve been through.” And I hear you. I really do. And I so get it.

But women like The Oneliner, Pregnancy Envy, Sticky Bun and My Dear Watson have become my daily staples. And I just started feeling creepy lurking on the IF blog sidelines. Some IF voyeur if you will. Since I love the written word, I thought maybe, just maybe I might have something to contribute here. To give myself an outlet and to make others, perhaps future others, not feel so alone and, um, misunderstood by husbands, lovers, parents, siblings, friends and co-workers who don’t get how having a baby could become such an obsession (cue the movie trailer music).

Because having a baby. Well, that was the plan. Wasn’t it?