Fertility Drill Sergeant

When my husband and I started ttcing back in July we weren't so formal about it. I'd had an iphone app that "guessed" at my most fertile days based around my period start date and duration. We did it when we felt like it and tried to get it in during those potentially fertile days.

This cycle, everything changed.

I became a drill sergeant. I had a non-negotiable schedule for "doing the deed" and by now I had figured out how to tell if I was at my peak fertility, plus which day I'd most likely ovulated. We were definitely not ttc-ing in the dark anymore. Quite literally. I decided that mornings were our best bet. Sometimes after a rough day at the office the last thing you have energy for is baby-making. I hadn't fully factored in how much work my husband was going to have to put into these attempts. It's not like your typical nookie when you're both in the mood so you go for it. This is different. You may not be in the mood at all, but you better get in the mood and fast. Fertility drill sergeant says, "Drop your pants!"

This round of trying was definitely lacking spontaneity and romance, but it didn't lack in intimacy. For the first time, we were completely locked into the same goal. It's something we both wanted before. But it's something we both want even more now. There was a real emphasis on the "trying" in trying to conceive. We definitely gave it our all. And that's all we could do.

So now it's up to biology, the universe, God, and a little wishful thinking...

Ooops!... I did it again

Perhaps my not-so-subtle title can shed some light on the topic of this post. In case you haven't guessed it, this has to do with trying to conceive (ttc). In my earlier post, "Waiting For Flo" I mentioned how my midwife and surgeon has suggested waiting a bit to start ttc again. The original suggestion was to wait til I'd hung out with Flo twice. But I'm not that patient. We were planning to wait at least until I saw her once. But... ooops!

I'm also still learning about the birds and the bees. Dang. I thought I had it down. I thought you couldn't get pregnant after you ovulated. But then I did a little research post-you-know-what-al and read that a day or so after ovulation is still considered an extremely fertile time! Um... what??

Why do we learn sex ed in 5th grade? Some of us need a refresher course. I think there should be ttc classes for those of us that never quite got all the nuts and bolts of baby-making.

So where does that put us? Well, it's probably a one in a million chance that we got pregnant after this ooops moment. And I have a whole mixture of feelings about it. Obviously - tremendous amounts of excitement that we could be starting back up again. But also a little tentative - I still haven't lost any of the weight I put on from the 1st pregnancy. And I've heard both positive and negative stories about getting pregnant immediately after miscarrying... But you know me. I will focus on the positive.

So, I wait... and visualize... and manifest... and take damn good care of myself.

We Wanna Be Parents

My husband and I were hitched in June 2010 - just a little over 6 months ago. He's in his early 40s and I'm in my (sigh) late 30s. We're both childless, but have both always pretty much wanted kids. I'm the kind of person that attracts kids like a magnet. Usually, they are completely unaware of the age difference between us and think I am there not to socialize with their parents, but to play with them. It's been like this ever since I stopped being a kid myself. And because of it, I've always dreamed of the day when I would have children of my own.

My husband wanted us to start trying while we were engaged. But having been told many years ago that I was "very fertile" I was afraid we'd get lucky and I'd wind up barefoot and pregnant on my wedding day. I wasn't afraid of the social stigma, but rather the fact that once pregnant you cannot be on a diet. And in order to look somewhat decent in my wedding dress I had to drop a few pounds - not put them on. We decided I would go off the pill on our honeymoon and start trying straight away, which we did.

Month after month I continued to receive my dreaded monthly gift aka Aunt Flo aka the curse aka my period and I was constantly disappointed. And fear started to seep in. I'm not 27, I'm 37. You hear all the dreaded statistics. Could it be that we would have fertility problems? What if I couldn't get pregnant? Month after month I was taunted by the possibilities... until... the faint blue line.

The day after Thanksgiving, after 3 negative pregnancy tests earlier that week, I was a 8 days late for my period and finally got a faint positive line on my pregnancy test. When I say faint I mean it was BARELY there. If I held the test up in the exact right light at precisely the correct angle, you could see it. The line was there. I made my husband rush out to the store to get another test. This one was pretty clear. Instead of a plus sign it screamed at us: "PREGNANT"!

I almost couldn't believe it. After the months of disappointment, here was the big thumbs up we were hoping for. But how was it physically possible? We had only done it TWICE in November. He had started a new job and I was in a diet and fitness kick. We were constantly exhausted and had put our "ttc" attempts on the backburner. And yet... here we were... PREGNANT!

As quickly as the excitement started to sink in, so did the possibilities that something was not right with this pregnancy. I went to my midwife for a blood test to confirm the pregnancy and was told that my hcg levels were low. Which was concerning. Low hcg levels can mean a slow to develop pregnancy. An ectopic pregnancy (where the fertilized egg never makes it out of the fallopian tube - something that happened to my husband and his ex-wife) or a blighted ovum where a sac develops but an embryo never does. It could also mean there is a chromosomal abnormality. Quite instantly, I started to feel my heart sink. I felt in my heart like something was wrong.

A second blood test confirmed my hcg levels had risen - they are supposed to double every 24-48 hours and they had. Hooray! We scheduled my first ultrasound which was due to take place around 8 weeks. And now, disappointment #2. As I got onto the table and the tech began to look around, she only saw an empty sac. I appeared to only be 5 weeks pregnant. Not 8.

She told us that it could be a blighted ovum. But that she would give our pregnancy the benefit of the doubt. We had to come back in a week to know for sure. In a healthy pregnancy within a week there is a lot of change. If all was okay, we should see something that following week.

Those 7 days were horrible. I was depressed every day. Literally waiting to miscarry. I am not a negative person. I am always looking for the positive and always believing the best will come. But during those 7 days, I could not see anything positive. I was convinced we had a blighted ovum. But then - two days before Christmas - we saw an embryo and its heartbeat! I was in shock. The tech was so happy for us, but was quick to tell us we were not out of the woods. She dated us at 6 weeks. Which could be fine. Or there could still be a problem. She reminded us that a slow to develop embryo could be a chromosomal abnormality. There it was again. That damned dread. They needed to see us again two weeks later. January 6th. A day after my 37th birthday.

If you've been feeling the ups and downs of my journey, you can imagine what I was going through. The highs, the lows, the highs and then... we hit another low. And this one was about as low as you can go. January 6th, at our 3rd ultrasound, the tech looked around and around and around and did not see what we were hoping to see. She told us that the baby stopped growing and there was no more heartbeat. The doctors refer to it as a "missed abortion" but I've heard "missed miscarriage" and prefer that expression. It seems that after our little miracle of seeing a heartbeat it was only a matter of days or possibly even hours before our baby stopped growing.

They scheduled me for a "d&e" on Friday - two days ago. And since then, I have been (as you can imagine) a mixed bag of emotions.

Thursday was pure sadness. Crying... crying... and more crying. Have you ever watched the show, "The Locator"? It's a tear jerker. And was basically my free therapy for the day. There was a Locator marathon on and I cried about every 20 minutes for the entire day. I was afraid to go to sleep that night. Was I going to trick myself into thinking I was still pregnant? Was I going to wake up with a start and remember the nightmare that had become our reality?

Friday morning I awoke to a surprising feeling of peace. This baby was not meant to be. It just wasn't. From the start, there seemed to be something wrong. From that faint blue line. To the low hcg levels. To the small sac... I hoped and prayed and wanted everything to be fine. But it wasn't. And now I had to deal with the reality. I had to accept what happened.

I do not judge anyone else who has been through what I have and if it has taken you longer to grieve and cry and be depressed. You must go through your own grieving process at the pace that is healthy for you. My journey was to stop grieving after having been distressed for so long. My journey was to finally be at peace and to stop worrying and wondering and looking back. My journey was to look forward - starting on Friday.

The hospital staff was incredibly sensitive, human, and delicate. I was completely knocked out for the d&e. Which I am incredibly thankful for. I have been in minimal physical pain since. And, emotionally, I am feeling good. Hopeful. And excited for what is to come.

I am still sad for our loss. And I may always have some sense of that loss. Our first pregnancy that was not meant to be. But I also realized something. That this was a part of my journey. And getting through it just means I am one step closer to meeting my future baby.

I have started this blog to document the rest of my journey. The fertility methods I am currently reading about. The fitness I hope to achieve this go around. The closeness I continue to develop with my husband. The ups and downs. The good, bad and ugly. All that and a bag of chips (or brownies, or ice cream or pizza or whatever you may crave once you get knocked up - my cravings were out of control). Please join me on my journey and share your stories - I'd love to hear them.

-wbm