B-day eve

I've been so busy these past few weeks with renovations at home, I haven't had time to blog. But I think a little more sadly, I haven't really had time to get excited about the big event, baby b-day. Perhaps it is a blessing in disguise that I haven't had time to think too much about it and be wishing the day would come quicker.

Funnily, everyone else around us seem really excited for us for tomorrow. That is nice. Both of our families are thrilled. 

I am nervous about the procedure and my recovery. I am also very much looking forward to meeting our baby. I remember a few months ago thinking how much I loved him already, so I expect tomorrow I am going to be quite emotional. It is really hard to imagine how special it must be to see your baby for the first time.

Tonight hubby and I are trying to decide how to spend our last childless night. We are both EXHAUSTED from all the work we've done renovating. It looks like dinner and movie will be replaced with a nice takeaway and some quiet time together at home. We did manage to enjoy quite a few nice lunches together over the past fortnight as a treat during the reno works and I think a quiet night in will be delightful. 

Next time you hear from me, hopefully we will have a name for our newest family member and maybe even a pic or two.

I have included a few pics from past couple of weeks.

Baby room prep

The new kitchen going in!

2 days before b-day!
Dressed for my last couple of hours work!

Please rid me of these swollen, puffy feet!

Crashing down

By the time we went into our appointment with the obstetrician I think my hope was outweighed by my doubts. When the ob asked "how are you going?" I was very quick to reply that we weren't so great. I quickly explained the result of the ultrasound from the week before. The ob said it was probably best we get straight to having a look, rather than spend half an hour talking about pregnancy management, just to find out things aren't looking good. He also told us a story about a woman he'd seen whose first scan didn't look good, with the baby having a heartbeat of 78. He said when she came back he felt nervous about what the scan would show, but that everything was great, the baby had a heartbeat over 160 and had really grown.

A glimmer of hope just as we get on the bed for the scan. 

He starts with an external scan. By this time, 8 and a half weeks, the baby should be clearly visible from an external scan. By how hard the ultrasound thing was pushing on me I could tell it was hard for the ob to see the baby, and from what I could see on screen it didn't look good. He switched to an internal scan where he confirmed that things didn't look good. He said he was sorry, but from what he could see the baby didn't have a heartbeat and the size hadn't changed from our last scan. 

Procedure from this point is to have a high resolution/diagnostic scan. The portable scanners the obs have apparently can miss stuff, so they are reluctant to recommend the curette without the diagnostic scan. Our ob rings the women's diagnostic centre and gets us an appointment in a couple of hours. He asks if the result is as expected if we'd like to have the curette that night if they can get a theatre booking.

We head home for a couple of hours. Given we have the chance of having the operation in the evening I've got to eat something now, and then I'm on nil by mouth, just in case we can secure the evening theatre time. An hour before our appointment I drink the obligatory pre ultrasound water, knowing no matter how full my bladder is they will still need to do the internal scan. 

It's funny that it doesn't really matter that we already know that it is pretty much over, when the sonographer sympathetically tells us she can't find a heartbeat I still can't help but cry. She confirms the baby is still the same size it was a week and a half ago. She looks around to make sure the other embryo isn't tucked away somewhere it shouldn't be, but there is nothing else, just the one that is no longer a viable pregnancy. 

With our results in hand we head back over to the obstetrician's office where he quickly sees us between patients. He asks if we'd like to have the curette that night or tomorrow morning. I opt to have it done that night, so that way only one day revolves around the whole ordeal. 

We head home to pack 'a just in case' overnight bag and by 5pm we are back at the hospital being admitted. By 6.30pm I am wheeled down to pre-op and by 8pm I'm back in my room texting home. They keep me in for a few hours and then we are allowed to go home.

Despite having a body full of sleepy drugs I didn't sleep well. I couldn't get into a deep sleep. I don't cry, just toss and turn. 

Cycle mania creeps in

Its official. Fertility cycles mess with me. A few things I've noticed about myself in the past day or so that I believe have started as a result of the fertility treatment:

1. I'm a sook. Not crying sook (yet), but things upset me more easily.
2. I whinge. Everything sucks, especially anything associated with fertility treatment, for example I have resisted starting the progesterone pessaries because they suck, and now I've started using them I've whinged about it - a lot.
3. I don't stick to plans. Fertility takes over everything else can wait - that includes riding to work, catch ups with friends
4. I'm lazy (well lazier). The couch holds an extra special appeal right now. 
5. I don't manage with the regular stresses of life well. A frustrating incident at work send me into a near panic attack and a less than helpful shop assistant has me demanding to speak to a manager or sending scathing emails to head office.

I've just been reading an online forum on bubhub for all the women going through fertility treatment in July/August. I don't join or post, but reading gives me a great sense of solidarity. Also, I realise while I'm certainly driven a little crazy by treatment, so are a lot of women. One lady posted that she was losing her mind having learned the next door neighbour's cat who managed to get out just one night was now pregnant. She was pissed off that the cat gets knocked up first go. 

So crazy has kicked in, but I don't think so crazy that a pregnant cat would upset me, but I'm not sure as it hasn't come up. It just might. If you have any pregnant pets, might be best not to mention it to me.

Hope still reins supreme. 

Not long to wait before we know if it has worked this time.

The baby making mission break

I know, I've been skiving on the blog. I've been thinking about writing an update for ages and yesterday I read an article in the Australian Magazine that motivated me to get back to it. It was an heartbreaking story about a woman whose 3rd child was stillborn. This woman was a writer herself and had at other hard times in her life turned to books to help her, however after her terrible loss, no book was hitting the mark. In the end she went online, where she found the community of bloggers and in the rawness of their stories she found connections to real people, like herself and finally began to recover.

Her story reminded me why I started writing the blog in the first place. I'd looked for useful information online, but nothing was helping me. I wanted facts and emotion, not just medical information. Once I started writing the blog, I found other blogs, other very sad stories and stories of triumph against the odds. I have cried and laughed reading of the hardships of others and got new perspectives on my own troubles.

My blog has helped me recover from our many pregnancy losses and perhaps in some small way it is helping others, who have their own hard story and find comfort and community in reading what treatments I am doing and how I'm coping emotionally.

Currently I'm the best I've been in years. I've now returned to work full-time and am again enjoying the challenge of my role.  On the fertility front I'm taking a break. I'm looking down the barrel of my 37th birthday and trying not to let it rule me in decisions about trying to have a baby. Emotionally I've been through the wringer. In case you lost count, from February 2011 to February 2012 we lost 1 gallbladder, 2 fallopian tubes, 3 pregnancies and 4 babies. It is a lot to process.

I'm sitting comfortably with the decision to have a break. I think it will be at least 1 more full cycle before we sign up for another FET cycle. Right now I'm thinking a lot more about trying to survive my first mini-triathlon...

A happy new year

As of today I'm eight weeks pregnant and I've seen in the new year with everything looking rosy on the baby-making front.

We had a pregnancy viability scan in Cairns while we were on holidays and it was everything I could have hoped for. Only 1 baby, measuring 0.49cm, which equates to 6 weeks and 1 day with a heartbeat of 113 beats per minute. I asked the sonographer to have a good look around to check that another gestational sack wasn't implanted somewhere it shouldn't be, but nothing else could be found. This is the first time I've left an ultrasound place happy. The result was conclusively excellent!

I felt mixed feelings of relief and disappointment that only one embryo took. Having two babies seems like a great long term outcome and takes the pressure off needing to try to get pregnant again any time soon. However, I know that one baby has a much better chance of progressing to healthy, trouble free pregnancy and birth. That's exactly what we need, fewer troubles.

In the last couple of weeks early pregnancy symptoms have truly kicked in. Fatigue is my worst symptom. I nearly always need a nap. I'm also experiencing a touch of morning sickness, which for me has been a lot more like all day sickness. I feel a little bit sick, not enough to vomit as yet, nearly all day. I'm trying to pin point what makes it better and what makes it worse, but haven't been able to nail it down. I've also become a champion burper.

At eight weeks the baby is still really small. Apparently it would now be around 1.4 - 2.0 cm and would still have remnants of a tail. Gross. If all continues to go well, the tail should be gone soon enough.  :)