I guess I’m going to break all the norms here on this one.
Most people don’t say anything till they are 12 weeks. And here I am at 4.
But before you squeal, or get excited, or even think about a congratulations … You should know that I likely won’t keep this one.
My hcg is low. In spite of progesterone, baby aspirin, eating gluten-free and being as healthy as I can be … I will still likely miscarry.
I met with my nurse from the fertility clinic today. I happened to be in Seattle visiting my sister already, so the timing was perfect.
My first positive test was on Tuesday, CD 29, 3 days after my period was due. It was a faint line, but positive nonetheless.
The next day I had a blood draw to confirm the pregnancy. Instead of just confirming the pregnancy, they did a quantitative test to determine my hcg levels. It was 35.
My last miscarriage with Elliott I was at 152 at this point, and then with Caleb, I was at 16.
My heart sunk when I heard the news. I guess once I knew the number I gave up a fair amount of hope.
Over the last 3 days, I’ve had fewer symptoms. My assumption is that my hcg is dropping, but we won’t know for sure until I get another hcg test.
Of course, ectopic is ALWAYS on the table as a concern. So there is that.
My reproductive endocrinologist did not feel that the lab work for clotting was complete, and I have a consultation with a hematologist on Wednesday. I had a blood-clotting test done today, and they are checking to see if adding Lovenox (a blood thinner) to my “pregnancy regimen” is called for.
I’m not really sure how to feel. At times I am numb, sometimes broken, sometimes angry, and on it goes. How I am depends on the minute.
It’s painfully obvious that the plan to “just try again, and we’ll hope for the best” is not working out so well.
A few people have asked what we need, and the only thing I can think of is prayer.
Of course, I want a miracle. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t want this baby to pull through. So yes, by all means, pray for a miracle!
But I know that God’s miracle is not always the one I ask for. I know that even if we miscarry again, or even 10 more times, God is still good and He hasn’t abandoned me.
You can also pray for comfort. For Ryan and I to help each other and not allow more grief/stress come between us. You could also pray that if we lose this one, somehow we will be able to find what’s causing the losses.
I know many of you want to fix me. I’ve gotten lots of recommendations from many people about what could be wrong. As much as I understand wanting to find what’s wrong (trust me, I WANT TO FIGURE THIS OUT!!!), I’m in the hands of some really smart specialists and we are working on it. Emotionally, I just can’t follow every trail head right now on the “what-ifs.” I also don’t feel up for explaining every single test/scenario the doctors and I have gone through over the last two years.
So, what is our plan?
Currently, Ryan and I need to decide if we are going to continue testing our hcg. It’s an expensive process at $100 out-of-pocket per blood draw.
We’ll continue the progesterone, etc, until we know for certain what is going on with this pregnancy.
I’ll emotionally take it one day at a time, or maye one minute at a time. The miscarriage could start tomorrow — it could start weeks and weeks from now — it might not start at all.
You can understand, I’m sure, that the not-knowing and all the waiting are very hard to go through.
Since I blog through loss, I wanted to blog through this period of potential loss/potential live-baby. Below is the post that I wrote the day I found out we were pregnant again.
One more thing… If you are a close friend or family, and you found out on FB today about what’s going on, I’m sorry. I made several calls today to the share the news, and it’s just too hard. I’ll just be keeping updates here.
Thanks for all the prayers and support for our family,
I’m Pregnant, written March 4
But am I really pregnant??
Something like this has been playing in my head for the entire day. Terror. Excitement. Questioning. Guarding. Loving. Breathing. Beautiful. Terrifying.
Who knew two lines could mean so much, and yet communicate so little.
I don’t know for how long I’ll carry this baby. Today has felt like a 24-hour eternity.
Either it will be a long couple of days or weeks before we lose this one. (And, then looking back, I’ll say it wasn’t nearly long enough) … Or it will be a long, scary 9-months until mid-November when this one is “due.”
I know well enough to not REALLY expect a live baby anywhere even close to a due date. I know most of my due dates are empty, forgotten by most the day I miscarried.
And yet there’s a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe this time is different.
Then again, maybe it’s not.
If you are of the praying sort, pray pray pray that God’s will be done, and that He gives me the strength to walk through whatever lies before me.
And pray my uterus won’t be empty again, but there will be a live baby with a blinking little heart if we make it to ultrasound day.