This roller coaster – it’s something I don’t wish on anyone. The pain, fear and anxiety are hard to explain or to fathom – unless you’ve been here and experienced this.
Today – today I’m 7 weeks and 0 days. We’ve made it to week 7. Is my baby alive today? I have no idea. I spend every day terrified she’s dead. Terrified I’ve lost her. This journey isn’t for the weak. Hell, I’m not even sure it’s for the strong. Nobody should have to be this kind of strong. Nobody should have to experience these feelings and this fear.
Friday I had the follow-up ultrasound and HCG. Amazing, my HCG had went up to 8,500. So, it had increased by about 1,000. Still not doubling. Still not that great. However, it wasn’t dropping. I’d done some reading though and learned that it could continue to slowly rise if you hadn’t lost all of the placental tissue yet and as I knew I hadn’t had enough clots I knew this was quite possibly the case. I arrived for my ultrasound and she began the measurements. I asked at one point if she could see a fetal pole and she simply stated “I’m still looking hun.”. I accepted that for what it was. Laying there. Fighting back the tears. Imagining the worst. I just wanted her to finish so I could go cry alone and have a beer. So angry at the world.
Finally, she tells me she’s done. During all of this the machine is away from me and I can’t see anything. I simply ask, so did it measure any further? She then says she’ll show me – She points out that now it’s measuring 6 weeks 0 days. I was 6 weeks 2 days. So, baby grew a day but wasn’t quite big enough. Though she tells me being off a few days at this stage is beyond normal. She then shows me a fetal pole and asks if I see the flicker – It’s the baby’s heart beat – 158 bpm.
She had a heart beat. I was dumbfounded. Shocked. All I could do was stare at the screen. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t feel happy. Just pure shock. I was sure I’d lost her. Positive of it.
I’m THRILLED she was alive, measuring okay AND had a great heartbeat. That’s amazing.
However, they did decide – the other embryo had also implanted and tried to give life a try. They’ve decided he was a classic “vanishing twin” and that’s why my numbers were going up so quickly. It’s likely why I started bleeding and had the SCH to begin with. It’s likely why my numbers have dropped and then resumed increasing. Because he was trying to become a real baby too and we lost him. My emotions? A mixture of everything. I’m glad I gave him a chance. I’m amazed he even tried to grow. I’m sad he will never get to be on this earth and I’ll never know him. Yet, I’m aware of the possible chromosomal issues he had. As he was lost early, it’s likely that at least one of those issues were right. In that case, he wouldn’t have lived a good quality of life. It wouldn’t have been fair to bring him into this world. Thus, what needed to happen – happened. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him though.
Now, I have the baby girl to pray for and hope for. My Sneak Peek gender test came back – It’s a girl. This was what I assumed. She was the embryo with the best chance. So, it makes perfect sense she’s the baby that was still alive as of Friday.
I’m terrified though. 150% terrified. I’m still bleeding. I have good days and bad days. They say it’s normal. It’s a combination of the SCH and possibly the other embryo’s DNA being discarded/absorbed. Not to stress. Baby had a strong heart rate and looked good. To take this as a win.
THAT is impossible. There is nothing about bleeding during pregnancy that feels “normal”. Every drop, every glimpse of blood, it’s all terrifying. Every time I fear this might be it. Will it get heavier? Will I lose this baby? Is she already gone? It is AWFUL. So freaking awful. Thursday I had no spotting. Friday night it resumed. Saturday, Sunday, Monday – blood each day. Yesterday, Tuesday, finallllly no blood. I had hope that it was over. Just maybe. Negative. This morning – I had more blood in the night. Now it’s back to heavier than Tuesday. It’s like it starts all over again. It’s frustrating. Each time, I simply fear the baby is gone and my body is trying to miscarry. It’s like living with the possibility of worst case scenario looming overhead and there is nothing you can do but WAIT. I’m really tired of waiting.
Friday – I have a repeat appointment. Another ultrasound and more labs. I’m praying my HCG has went up decently. Last check it was still barely crawling upwards. Like NOT fast enough at all. Friday I need the baby to still measure at least 7 weeks, there to be a heart rate and to have an HCG of…. 38,000? Yeah. Right. The HCG part is doubtful at the amazing rate it was going up Thursday – Sunday. I’ll do my labs right away before 8 a.m. – My ultrasound isn’t until 4 p.m. It’ll probably be the longest Friday ever. And I guess my plans are the same as last Friday – celebrate with some good food because we saw a growing baby with a heart? OR go find some brewery beer and drink away my feelings because we found out our baby is gone. Am I really going to have to go through this for the next 30+ weeks? I pray not – I pray she stays with me and I pray this nightmare ends and I can just enjoy being pregnant. Gosh, I pray. Hard. Daily.
It’s amazing you can love someone soooo much and be sooooo scared of losing them – even when you’ve never met them. I may not have met her or held her. But I’ve already dreamed a million dreams for her and I want her in my life so freaking badly.
They wanted me to resume the Lovenox Monday as my estrogen was super high Friday and I guess it can lead to blood clots for myself. I questioned if it could hurt the baby – not really, they just worry about blood clots to me due to my age and estradiol levels. I’ve chosen to not resume it. Every time I take it – I bleed more. I’d rather risk a blood clot than risk bleeding and losing this baby. That’s that. I will always choose this baby over me.
2 1/2 more longggg days before my ultrasound.
Max was thrilled he was right. He had been insistent on Vanishing Twin Syndrome since this nightmare began. Yay for him. I’m thrilled he was right and I still had a healthy baby as of Friday, but I’m not all that thrilled in general as I wish this wasn’t happening. At all. It could be worse though I guess, I need to take the wins when I can. Even if they still suck.
However, even being right – overall, he sucks. I know men don’t experience the whole pregnancy thing in the same way. His body isn’t sick, being invaded by a growing human, bleeding, anxious, terrified. And especially unable to take anything to help with the anxiety because it’s busy growing a human that needs to be healthy. It just feels… lonely. It’s like if I’m not actively in the hospital fearing the worst, he’s just going on with his life. What do I expect? I don’t know – I guess I want someone else to be in this and as scared as me? I want someone else to be as miserable and as terrified as I am? I want to feel like it’s not just me fighting for this baby to live.
A couple days ago he mentioned going out of town Thursday. Not like a short trip somewhere close but a 6 hour drive round trip or more to see some old friend. Why? Seriously, why? There is ZERO need to do this. If his friend cares so much his friend can come here to visit. I’m getting fucking sick of the constant “need to go out of town to see xyz friend”. They can come here. I don’t want to be left alone with my paranoid thoughts and fears. I’m terrified of bleeding becoming heavier. Terrified of going in and founding out the baby is gone. I don’t want to do that alone. We need to be saving money – not going on joy rides to see friends. Saving money to buy everything a baby needs (and I want). Saving money to afford extra time off at birth. Not blowing money on trips. Maybe I’d be a little nicer if we didn’t just go out of town on his last days off.
Is it rational? Am I a total dick? I don’t know. Quite likely. Yet, I don’t know if I care. I just want my baby to be okay and I’m soooo scared of the bad happening. So scared of going through it all alone. The anxiety is real and nearly debilitating some moments of the day. The times I have too much time to think, ponder, pray, overanalyze.
So, me being me…. After I got some message on why bother to fix the blinker on the extra car if “I can’t go anywhere”… I sent a nice long fuck you message. If he wants to obsess about not going anywhere, he can go live somewhere else and do it. Okay, yeah, I’m being extreme and irrational. But he needs to step it up. Simple enough. If I am going to have to be my own support and alone in this – I might as well be truly alone. And I get it doesn’t affect him as much until birth. I get it. That doesn’t mean I have to like it or accept it.
Our latest foster came Sunday. It’s been… fine. She’s been a pretty decent distraction honestly. I was holding up pretty good until today and that I’m pretty sure is the fact I know she’s leaving tomorrow, my distraction will be gone and I’ll be back to just stuck with my own thoughts. Crappy. I knew it was a short-term placement. I just didn’t expect them to find a home that quickly. They’d anticipated up to a month and I was good with that. It would have taken me to 10 weeks and been a fabulous distraction the whole time. She’s an okay kid. Typical teenager. Nothing to worrisome to me. I honestly don’t even think she’s group home material. But, my opinion doesn’t matter. I’m just here to love her while I have her. So, that’s what I’m doing. She’ll leave at like 4 a.m. tomorrow to go across the state to her new home. And, I’ll be back to just me. Pretty lame really.
So, basically, just praying to keep going until Friday. To see some kind of positive results Friday. To maybe even hear the heartbeat and not just see it. God, I hope so. I pray she’s okay. I pray she’s in there just happily hanging out while I’m out here panicking.