16 posts tagged “baby”

Von Teese Lipstick Red

That was what my friend, Chance, called some chick one day a long time ago when we were driving around trying to find some food in Maryland.  It can aptly describe me right now.  The tatas are no longer sitting in their bra correctly.  I have that muffin top thing going on.  Good thing its a low cut top, which brings attention to the actual cleavage and not so much the method by which they're stuffed in there.

I'm nauseated today, and feeling heartburn.  Yeah, question... how in the hell does one get heartburn from fuggin milk!?  It probably has something to do with me, like, not being able to digest it.  Although, I'm taking the lactaid pills with it, so it shouldnt be too big of a problem.  I just have to dig deep and remember that last time I was a gaseous mess.  And of course, if I'm not pregnant and this is all in my head, then be prepared for some posts from a "special hospital" for a few weeks.

In an effort to get my mind off of the timed hell that is the wait until 2pm, I will be discussing the car.

Sooo... Dita von Teese red, huh?  Yeah, that pretty much describes the color of the car.  Thats actually pretty apt.  Good job!  I'm feeling nervous about actually going down there and buying it.  Not that I'm gonna have buyers remorse or anything, its just that I'm prone to anxiety attacks anyway, and this big of a purchase is like, "Woahholyshitfuckwhatthefuckamithinkingimnotthatfuckingresponsibleyetimjustafugginkidright?"  Ya know, actually now that I got that out I feel a lil bit better. 

I talked to the dealer on Monday about getting the "Drive off the Lot" price down to $14k even from $14,500somethingandsomechange.  I like even numbers.  I'm pretty obsessive compulsive in regards to math and numbers... might be something I look into one day.  Anywhoo, yeah.  Thats a pretty good price for a Hyundai.  Of course, it does include the rebate already added in, and technically, the price of the actual car will be less than that.  That 14 includes tax, tags and title... although I wont be gettin the title, will I?  That goes to the loan folks.  Well, you know what I mean.  Tax and temp tags. 

(Lemme tell you what, gettin that picture of Dita from Google images was fuggin hard as hell to do on a censored computer!  Who does she think she is showing off her coochie like that?  Goddamnit)

So today when I ran by the doctor's office for the beta (more on that in a second) the receptionist pointed to an envelope in my chart and asked if I wanted it.  I'd noticed that envelope the day I went back to the doctor's office after the bloody mess that was my miscarriage.  I hadnt picked it up; I figured I'd get it eventually.  Then I forgot about it.  Two days ago we were driving by the office and I remembered about it.  Well, I figured, must not have been that important.  Whats inside the envelope, I know you're dying to know.

Sonogram pictures of Peanut 1

Akiaa, the receptionist, asked if I wanted them yet.  No, I said.  Just hold on to them for a bit longer. 

I havent cried about Peanut in a while.  I know that Peanut isnt gone.  In my mind, Peanut is an essence.  The body just wasnt right, so Peanut is gonna chill for a bit longer until the right body comes along.  Its the easiest way I can deal with it.  Its the only thing that I find hope in regarding that whole situation.  I didnt lose my baby.  Not entirely. 

Anyway... enough saddness.  They took my blood.  The doctor (and nurses) told me that I was waaay early to be going this route, but if I really really wanted to know... and all that fun stuff.  Well, ladies, I'm not testing + and I need to know so I dont waste this pretty expensive endometrin stuff.  So, I got s'more, as the nurse told me, and its already up there doing its thing.  I get to call in tomorrow after 2 and find out.  So thats what I'll do.  Here's to the next 21 hours of hell.  ;)    

I feel completely yacktastic.  I need to pee more often.  I see a commercial for McDs and I want to hurl.  Yesterday I passed out on the couch at 7!  How am I not turning these stupid sticks pink, or blue, or + or | or whatever fucking hoops they want me to jump through?  And of course, the fact that I'm not doing any of those things to a stick make me nervous that if they do a beta, and I'm at like, 30 or so and not turning anything, and yet pregnant, it will be yet another nightmare scenario. 

I'm waiting another half hour before I call my doctor's office and beg to come in for one of those quick yes/no beta tests.  Or at the least, a full quantitative beta that I can get back tomorrow.  My body is totally not in period mode.  There is not one indication that full on bleeding is imminant.  I'm too good at giving myself cervical checks. 

Is it that you, honestly, sometimes, dont turn a pee stick?  If someone can point me to a successful pregnancy where the lady didnt turn the damn stick in the first few days after the period was missing, then I will calm the fuck down.  But I havent seen that. 

Let me remind you all that I am clockwork.  Even after the miscarriage, 5 weeks later I was golden.  Back to normal.  Back to 27/28/29 days as a matter of fact.  I am not late.  I do not have irregular periods.  I am Puerto Rican... you can set a clock by our native genetic anatomies!   

Update at 10:10am: I talked to the nurse and she basically told me that she thought I was pregnant and that I should come on in for a Beta test.  She told me to go to the pharmacy and pick up a refill for the Endometrin and to keep taking it, at least, until tomorrow when I find out my results form the test.  In other news, the folks over at http://www.fertilityties.com are a little shitty.  They're all, Oh well, you cant know anything unless you do OPKs and BBT.  I was like, why in the hell should I shell out money for a stick to tell me what i can feel in my body?  Bah... I find their attitudes more than a little shitty.  Because apparently, people are a nobody unless they're peeing on 50 sticks, and taking their temperatures every day like an obsessed freak. 

Seriously... I dont need a stick to tell me when I ovulated.  I know.  It hurts.  But apparently, those crazy ladies over there dont know how to trust their bodies.  Sorry...   </rant>

...

I'm not pregnant anymore.

Nothing better going into an interview than feeling like you're about to start bawling.  Of course, I only have myself to blame.  I shouldnt have said anything.  Next time I wont.  Except to you guys, of course. 

Wow... awkward. 

Aaaand my insurance requires pre-auth for Endometrin.  Wow.  Way to fuck me dudes.  I ovulate tomorrow.  I need this Monday. 

Its just incredible how much we, as women, get fucked.  I thought this whole crappy thing was behind me, but no.  Now I have to have my prescription insurance poking into my naughty bits and questioning why exactly I need this.  And of course, I'm of the impression that since I'm technically not infertile (according to Aetna), that now I wont get the authorization for this med. 

Why, exactly, is there preauthorization needed for a hormone supplement?  Why? 

Yet another month wasted.  Incredibly wasted.  Entirely wasted. 

Not a single person in the world can tell me that my fears of 6 years ago were misguided.  No one.  I always knew. 

I'm back feeling like crap.  It was a beautiful week, and a beautiful vacation, and I was finally feeling like myself again.  And now I'm back to feeling useless.  Back to feeling like I'm fighting a futile war. 

 Update 6/3/08 @ 12:39pm:  Medco left me an automated message saying that I am authorized for the next year-ish!  WOOT!  Lets hope it doesnt take that long.  Or rather, that last night's festivities did something. 

For those of you not in tune with the "E. Records", this was said when one of the employees told Mark that his music caused sterility.  Of course, I dont want to be sterile... but the name fits with today's issues.

In about 8 and a half hours time I will be back in the doctor's office, going over all of my test results and we might find out then why I tend to kill babies while still in my womb.  I realize that this phrase has perturbed some of you, but thats what it is, and thats how I see it.  Its not so much a snipe at myself or my anatomical inability to protect a bundle of cells, but the quick and dirty truth.  I dont like flowing up a giant piece of shit.

So, we'll go and find out the details, and shortly thereafter I will be updating to let ya'lls know.  In the past few weeks since this crap has happened I've found alot of strength and power from ya'lls.  Its been nice to opine and bitch and know that you ladies knew the pain.  

I'm hoping for something along the lines of, "You clot too much, here's a pill."  But I know thats asking for a miracle.  So I'll take what I can get.  Which might not be anything at all.  And I'm fully prepared for nothing at all.  I've mentally prepared myself, as you guys know, for, "We dunno why you killed that baby.  We cant see a reason why you'll do it again, but with the odds in today's society... have fun with that."  I'm ready for that.  And ya know... I just want this whole nightmare to end.  And I am of the firm belief that as soon as I walk out of that office, the whole miscarriage saga can finally come to a close.  And I can get back to myself.  What a joy that would be.  I literally feel like in 8 hours and 20 minutes I will have the biggest weight off of my shoulders.  

That moment will feel wonderful.   

The title of today's entry brought to you by my glorious husband...

Lots of things on my mind as we start out little foray this morning, but first and formost, these crazy fucks.  I'm reminded of this one proverb that I heard on The West Wing, and I cant find it so bear with me as I try to retell it from memory.

A man sits at home and hears a news report that a hurricane is coming, and that people were being asked to evacuate the area.  He prays to God, and stays in his home, believing that he will be ok and that God will save him.  The hurricane is bearing down on him, and the police start coming door to door, to help folks get to safety.  The man tells the police that he will stay where he is, that God will save him.  After the hurricane passes, the area begins to flood.  Rescue workers with a boat come by and try to take the man to safety and he tells them to keep on going, that God will save him.  The man eventually dies; a mixture of exposure, hypothermia and dehydration.  When he meets God in heaven he asks, "Why didnt you save me?  I've always been loyal and devout!"  God replies, "I sent you a news report, a police man, and a boat." 

Anyhoodle... you get what I'm trying to say.  These people had 4 weeks to get the poor girl to a doctor.  They were sent friends and family to try to persuade them to save the girl, and in the end, she died.  Nice job.  I'm glad that the police are pressing charges, and I hope that this serves as a lesson for the next group of idiots. 

Today I get my uterus filled to the brim with salt water.  Fun shit, right?  I'm not looking forward to it.  I'm sure it will be embarresing, uncomfortable, and useless.  What if they find something, you ask?  Well, for shits and giggles lets go down that road.  I'll play that game.  Say my uterus is bisected.  What the hell can we do about it?  Say my uterus has jagged edges.  What the hell can we do about it?  Say my uterus is all misshaped and odd.  What the hell can we do about it?  We already know that I can get pregnant.  So the issue of any lining problems is out the window.  So what does that leave us?  Giant odd misshaped polyps and fibriods... both of which involve some serious surgery and the potiential for further problems due to scar tissue.  So if you see it from my perspective, this is a stupid stupid procedure.  But, seeing as how I have no control of what tests are done to me anymore, I'll play the game.  Also, I'm still going on the "You've probably just had back luck" prognosis that the doctor told us the first day.  I mean seriously, ffs... is the inflating of my damned hoochie really necessary?  

I am fully preparing for all of this testing to go down, and karyotypes investigated and discussed and for it all to just end up being: "Yeah... we dunno."  Which would totally blow. 

I'm not usually this pessimistic about things. If there is a problem, I am generally the first to be proactive and say, "Hey!  Lets fix this shit!"  But not so much with this infertility crap.  Oh, by the way... you'll love this cute little factoid!  My insurance doesn believe that multiple miscarriages is interfility at all.  Oh no.  You've gotten pregnant... therefore, by definition, you are fertile.  Cute.  So, I have that stigma gone.  However... I still have been pregnant twice with nothing to show for it.  Thats kind of a downer.  On top of that, its my belief that even today's medical OB/GYN community has no goddamned clue what they're doing.  Everyone does something different.  What one book says you should do, one doctor will tell you that it wont matter.  What one doctor tells you, another will tell you something else.  The range of "normal" anything is from 0 to 10,000,000.  This doesnt help.  And I am sick of all that, "Every woman is different" crap.  If someone had told me, when I got out of the hospital the first time, that I should not go to work then I totally wouldnt have.  Every book i'd read said that.  But the doctor looked me dead in the eyes and said, "Yeah, you'll be fine!"  So... take a day off of work when I should be racking up leave?  Or go to work since the doctor said everything was ok?  What would you have done?

I'm honestly sick and tired of bitching about this.  I am also sick and tired of being preoccupied with all things infertility.  I am (and oh, I'm gonna milk this) not infertile.  So why all of the fucking tests for women who cannot conceive?  I can conceive.  Pretty well, apparently.  I just end up killing them.  Lets test for that fun shit.  Leave my uterus alone.  Didja hear me?  Leave my uterus alone!

After some pressuring from both M and Meta I have an appointment here for Friday.  I'm gettin a facial as well as my eyebrows done and an aromatherapy massage.  I also wanted a pedicure, but thats not something they do there.  This place is down in Old Town, so of course, no parking.  But its on Friday when M has his class and after it we'll hang out. 

Went to see the doctor today.  Bascially she thinks I just have bad luck and its nothing serious.  But to err on the side of caution, I'm, of course, being tested for

every

single

problem

in

the

book.

Today they took some blood for a genetic makeup of me and my husband, as well as some blood to see if all he HGC is all out of my body.  If so, I'll come back later this week to give s'more.  And after that, once I get my period I get some salt water injected into my hoochie and given an ultrasound.  Sounds fun.

Anyway, all of that should tell us something.  And after its all done, we go back to talk to her, decompress witih the info, and then get right back to tryin again.  Hopefully by the end of May and our vacation we'll be able to start again and do so during our relax session.  Anyway, that was today. 

Still not entirely happy.

Somewhere after a miscarriage and before your first period... is limbo. 

This is where I am.

I'm not pregnant, but I still have those hormones in my body.  I'm not pregnant, but I still feel tired and pukey every now and again.  I'm not normal, but I have no CLUE when i'm gonna get my period again.  I'm not normal, and yet I'm still crying at regular things. 

I've grieved, and felt bad, and cried, and been generally depressed.  But I'm ready to move on.  And I cant.  This isnt a mental problem.  Its not the pervue of psychologists or a counselor.  I dont need a giant destressing vacation.  I need these damned hormones out of my body.  And I need them out NOW. 

Its been a week, and I already see my body shrinking back to what it was before (and then some).  My breasts are already their older size, and my body is no longer a sodium absorbing sponge.  However, when I sit and watch something even remotely sappy I start the water works.  Which then reminds me of why I'm crying, which then makes me sadder, which then makes me cry harder.  I've stopped myself twice just while writing this post. 

Yes, it was sad, and slightly(!) horrific.  However, I am entirely ready for me to go back to normal and start trying this whole thing over again.  But my body cant.  And so therefore I am stuck in this hell of a limbo.  Between being mentally ready, and physically ready.  And there is not a single person who I converse with on a normal basis who can relate to this.  No one.  I am entirely alone. 

Let me repeat this.  I am entirely alone. 

Yes, this is one of the consequences of wanting to start a family when the rest of my friends are still trying to be financially independent and stable.  I realize this.  But seriously... cant I get a break?  Cant my whole family get a break?  When will this shit storm of the past year and a half stop?  Why, oh why, cant something just be genuinely good for once?

Enough bitching.  Back to my mental and physical confusion... where I walk around all day wanting to be happy and joke and be carefree again, and yet know deep inside that my body isnt ready for that yet.

So, I wrote that last entry 2 weeks ago.  At the ultrasound we heard a little heartbeat.  I cried.  It was beautiful.  

A week later I started bleeding, so we went to the hospital.  This was Sunday.  Doctors gave me another ultrasound and we heard a stronger heartbeat... and everything was as it was supposed to be.  So I went home, and on Monday, went to work.

On Monday I kept bleeding... and then Monday night, I started hemorraging.  Everywhere.  We went back to the hospital.  All was not as it was supposed to be.  I had another ultrasound.  No more baby.

I miscarried.  Again.  This time, however, it was much more graffic, and much more horrific.  At least the first time, I had hardly noticed I was pregnant.  This was different.

I have an appointment for a genetic counselor, who will try to pinpoint why I cant hold a baby. 

Yes, I am pretty devastated... and the only thing I can hold onto is that Peanut was measuring small... and that is a sign of a chromosonal abnormality.  Which means it wasnt entirely my fault.  But thats all I have to hold onto. 

So, here I am, back at work.  Listening to the loudest and most angry music I can find so that I can drown out the voices of my co-workers, who mean well, but who would just serve to make me cry.  We've been told not to try again until we get results back from the genetics people.  Who knows how long that will take.  In the meantime... all I can do is worry and wonder if I will ever bring a baby to term. 

Peanut 1

Feb 2008 - March 2008