Just Easin' the Tension, Baby.

Telling people that I’m pregnant has been a strange experience. Not only because it feels like I’m lying, but also because I concurrently battle a voice in my head that says telling people means certain doom for our baby. Totally irrational, I know.

We’ve gotten a lot of love and support from family, mixed reactions from friends – some more than thrilled, some congratulated us like we told them we bought a house then followed their respects with how much work we were in for (and yes, they knew what we’d been through)… That was a little disheartening. But none of that matters when I think about my second home here. Even with all the praise we’ve received from our families, none of it compares to the support we’ve gotten from all of you. It’s just breathtaking to think about.

Telling people at work has also been interesting. I was so filled with anxiety about how and when I should say something that I more less ended up blurting it out. (My bosses already knew)

Nice lady from Bookkeeping: Well Good Morning Melissa, how are you today?

Me: Pregnant, and you?

(Squeals from two other ladies ensue)

There were only a few of us in the office at the time, I figured I’d let them gab about it and everyone else would catch on rather than me making one giant announcement during an Operations Meeting and risk being the center of attention. I’ve also gotten a few “It’s about time!” comments from older male coworkers. Which makes me wish I could live out this clip:

In addition I’ve started coming out about our Infertility. It’s scary to be honest about it, but it makes me feel proud at the same time, because we've come so far. Scary also since I’m the sort of “leave your home-life at home” type of employee. But coming out about in now also makes me glad that I was so secretive about our IVF cycle while we were going through it. I don’t think I could have responded quite as tactfully to the ignorant responses I’ve gotten regarding fertility treatments. None were made with ill intent, they just came about by being severely misinformed. I’m doing my best to diplomatically educate people without sounding too technical/condescending/know-it-all-ish. No easy feat for me.

I’ve made some progress in my head without the help of my therapist – yay me! I stopped therapy temporarily because I was too damn tired in the evenings to even try to complete a coherent sentence, so I’d rather not waste my deductible or my therapists time. Plus I’d prefer to spend that time eating and falling asleep sitting up in bed. Where was I going with this. Progress, right. I’ve decided to use my blog as aversion therapy. You may remember me telling you all that I had been feeling unsettled about talking about my pregnancy here specifically because I wasn’t sure I wanted this place to be about pregnancy as opposed to just IF. The other side of that is just feeling plain unsettled about this pregnancy in general. It’s not just hard to talk about it here, it’s hard to talk about it period. I feel… Guilty. Unworthy. Self-conscious. Conceited. Phony. Terrified. Which has no doubt made me a pleasure to be around, I probably sounded like I was telling people I had Cholera, instead of just being pregnant.

So. I’'m going to power through it.

I’ve decided that documenting this pregnancy is more important to me than my baggage. I worked really fucking hard to get here and I don’t know if I’ll ever be here again. Plus I have the memorization capacity of a gnat, so somebody needs to chronicle all this crap.  And I’m going to do it right here. In the place and with the people I feel most comfortable spilling my guts too: Complete strangers living in different states most likely under assumed names.

I love you’s guy’s. More to come.

12 Weeks, But Don't Get Too Comfy

I’m twelve weeks and four days, deep breath now, yes? Well, “BWAHAHA!!!” says the universe. Not so fast Melissa, here’s a little curve ball just in case you were getting a little too comfortable shopping for maternity clothes and thinking about colors for the potential nursery. Oh and don’t pick out any names just yet either!


I got a phone call today. My Natural Killer Cells are elevated again. Not to an exceedingly dangerous level mind you, but elevated nonetheless. And yes, aside from them being normal last time I had a blood draw, I was very aware that this could be an issue. But my friend Denial and I had made up our minds that this problem would just go away, and we were quite content with that. Let me just say, that I’ve planned to do, and will do everything within my power to keep this baby safe, but sweet Jesus am I so overwhelmed with the constant stream of having things to fear in regards to this pregnancy. Please know that I’m so grateful to have gotten this far, and for the fact that I have access to such specialized care. But oh my gawd I am just exhausted from all of this –  all the ups and downs, and feeling pushed and pulled by being so aware that having gone through four years of infertility has changed me, mostly for the good. And I’ll never be the same, I’m not a regular pregnant person - and for so many reasons,  I am proud of that. But now, in this regard, I want so badly to be a regular pregnant person.  I’ve read so many blog posts about the women who hate graduating from the their clinics (save the fact that it usually means they are pregnant)  because they are sad to leave the safety net of their RE’s monitoring and guidance. Which makes plenty of sense. But for me, I am just so fucking over the constant monitoring. I can’t wait to wrap things up over there. Don’t get me wrong. I love Dr.3 and the fact that he made our biggest dream come true (so far). But DAMMAT am I ready to be done with them. I don’t want to see another alcohol pad, or syringe of any type, or a fucking cotton ball covered by paper tape on my arm... I’m tired of weekly blood draws and hoping I get my favorite phlebotomist – I DON’T WANT TO HAVE  A FAVORITE FUCKING PHLEMBOTOMIST! It’s been six months now of regular monitoring and I’m starting to feel more like an inmate that a fucking patient. 


But back to the NK issue. All I have to do is have another Intralipid infusion. Piece of cake, right? Sure, except that my clinic and the satellite office for the Beers Center totally screw you on the cost. My clinic charges $700.00 per infusion, it takes about 90 minutes and they are 7 miles away from my office. The Beers Office charges $550.00, takes about 3.5 hours (including travel time) and is 30 miles away from my office. The kicker? A bag of the Intralipid mixture, cost roughly $50.00 US dollars. Which basically means I'm taking it in the tuckus to pay for their overhead, because they basically have me and everyone else, over a barrel. They might as well say “Take this, or your baby will die. Cash, Check or Charge? ” 


I just want to scream ENOUGH ALREADY!!! 


After I caught my breath a bit I sent an email to Dr. 3 with a few questions. 


Hello Dr.3, 


I was wondering if you would be able to explain a little bit about what the recent increase in my NK cells could mean. I understand that the level is fairly low, does that still mean the Intralipid infusion absolutely necessary? Also, how likely is this to be an ongoing issue during the rest of my pregnancy? 
Thank you in advance for your time 


Sincerely, ProbablynotgoingtobeabletorelaxuntilI’mwritingacheckforthiskidswedding


His response:


Hi Melissa, 


90% of the patients who require immunology treatment are done by twelve weeks. You fall into the 10% where your NK is still a little elevated and the reason to treat is because of the possibility that the Natural Killer Cells could attack the developing placenta. 


As the placenta gets bigger it is better able to defend itself and that is why most people are usually done by twelve weeks. In patients with severe elevations, it is sometimes necessary to treat them up to 20 weeks, but not beyond. I think it is very likely that your levels will be normal after one more treatment, but the body is not a machine, so one cannot say with certainty until we test again. 


Warm regards, 
Dr. 3 


And my progesterone levels are still stupid – in my opinion. This week came in at 15. I have another 11 days of the suppositories that melt and drip out shortly after I go to bed, mostly because I’m up peeing every two hours. So I have to wonder if I am even getting the benefit of them. Sorry for the rant. And sorry if this sounded like my complaining is unreasonable. Deep down I am grateful to have problems like these, because I am all too aware of the alternative. Thanks for listening. 


Reading. 


Whatever.

The Inbetween

So I haven’t been a total slacker since last week. Blogger has been doing some wacky shit, and I am still not able to comment at all. It just keeps asking me to “Select A Profile” and no matter how many times I enter my username and password it won’t let me get anywhere… So if you haven’t heard from me, it’s not because I stopped loving you!

Things are still going well with me, as far as I know. I’m 11 weeks, 4 days today. My progesterone level is only at 17 even after starting the suppositories back up, so they want me to stay on them until 14 weeks as opposed to 12. Which blows, but I am more than happy to do it. Supposedly my last Heparin shot is this weekend, I say that with trepidation because of how things went with my P4. But holy crow will it be nice not to take any more shots. I’ve been giving myself shots in my stomach daily since JANUARY. I’ve racked up over 290 injections in that time, from Humira, to Lupron, Follistim, Menopur, Novarell, to Progesterone in Oil, and finally Heparin. And I’m on my sixth Sharps container. Good times.

As for the pregnancy, I’m starting to feel a leetle more at ease. Especially thanks to the Doppler that was loaned to me by the too fabulous for words Shelby, over at The Great Big IF. I know a few of you had suggested getting one after my last post. I had it then but was too chicken-shit to use it. I was just afraid to try it too early and not find anything,  thereby inducing an aneurysm. Though I did finally get brave enough to give it a whirl a few days ago. I found the heartbeat within about five minutes. I could seriously listen to that All. Day. Long.

I’m starting to have a day here and there where I’m not exhausted and can eat semi normally. Still can’t really do any desserts or spicy foods. I bought a few pairs of Maternity bottoms, I LOVE THEM, except for one pair which I stupidly did not try on before I left the store. They just happened to be my size and I figured great – they’ll be fine. For some reason they are really snug in the legs, but seem to sag and slide in the butt region. So I’m constantly having to hike up the waist. They are the same style as the other pair I bought, which fit fantastically, just a different color… Go Figure. So, I have a small bump, which is more predominant at night time. Right now, my regular shirts are starting to get pretty snug, but I just look like I’ve let myself go a little. And any of the maternity shirts that I’ve tried on look like I’m trying too hard to seem pregnant. Which is still not a label I’m entirely comfortable with. It’s been unseasonably cool here in Northern California, enabling me to wear lots of layers and cardigans, so I’m pretty sure my co-workers are still in the dark. But as soon as the summer actually hits, I know I’m screwed.  What else… I have my Nuchal Translucency Test scheduled but I’m starting to question whether or not it’s something I want to do. Whatever the test results show isn’t going to change our minds about keeping this pregnancy.  And I’m a little concerned about the percentage of accuracy in the test results. But then part of me is like “A two hour ultrasound??? Sign me up, bitches!” … I have another OB appointment before the NT test so I guess I’ll chat with the NP a little more about it – unless you folks care to share your experiences/input. That is, if you can comment. Hopefully blogger will clear things up SOON.