Double double double double...

The words that a woman with a history of early miscarriage expects to hear the most are "It doubled". And I heard them today. Although still very low at 130, it doubled from Saturday, which means that the baby in my belly is growing. I'm aware of the fact that right now it's only a ball of cells reproducing like crazy, but that ball of cells happens to be my baby. And I had only had my HCG levels double with the pregnancies that resulted in the two lovely boys who drive me crazy  at home every night. Actually, I even have an appointment for an ultrasound next week. Which will be a very long week as they are not doing any more bloodwork on me until then. I will be kind of nervius. Just kind of.

Numb

I'm not smoking. I'm not drinking alcohol. I'm not drinking coffee or tea, unless it's decaffeinated. I don't polish my nails. I don't take sugar substitutes. I'm not eating junk food. I'm not stressing. I'm not having sex. I'm not being defeated. But still, my numbers on Friday were:
hCG: 38
Progesterone: 8
That's bad. Very bad. I haven't started experiencing any symptoms yet, but that means that I am going to have my fourth miscarriage in less than one year. That means that all the temperature taking, all the pills (vitamins, progesterone, levothyroxine). all the OPKs are worth nothing. Absolutely nothing. Because at the end of the day, I probably won't have a baby. I still say probably because the nurse didn't dare say yay or nay (I quote her literally). And I don't want to shed that little last drop of hope. But that's the optimist in me. The realistic, rational Ana knows that this is done. Now what? I don't know.
I have heard all types of consolations. I have friends who tell me not to worry, that it will work next time (which I also heard the first, second and third time). I have friends trying to convince me that an only child is the best thing that can happen to you. I have friends trying to convince me to go the IVF/ embryo selection road. I have friends telling me to stop trying altogether. I have friends who don't know what to say. And I have a couple of friends who totally get it. Because they have been in place very similar to the one I am in now. I guess the good part is that I have lots of friends. The bad one is that none of them will become my baby.
I am very thankful of U2 for writing the song that gave me the title for this post, included in their album Zooropa. It makes me feel a little better. Not too much, but at least a little.

Official +

I had blood work done today, and I'm officially pregnant. Not too pregnant, but it's early, so we wouldn't expect higher levels. hCG is at 14.9 (I love the accuracy). Progesterone is at 12. I have to go back in one week to have the test repeated, and have my thyroid checked again, so they can adjust my medication. I loved the fact that I am not being treated as an ignorant being who couldn't understand medical terms. I really appreciate having all the data to the point, and getting answers to any questions I may have. My cramps are getting better, which is reassuring, because they are not normal, as I found out today. But they are definitely gone when I am resting, so I may have to take it easy. I will, as much as I need to. I want this baby.
I agreed with my therapist that I would try to be in a state of cautious joy. I think I am achieving it, but I cannot avoid thinking of my pregnancy as my baby. And even though I know there are no ears yet, I talk to hr, and I whisper: 'Quédate, bebé, quédate", as in a ritual chant. I hope he or she does.

A shadow

Is a shadow a line? Does it count? Of course, I couldn't wait and I did a home pregnancy test this morning. And there was a little blue vertical shadow. Or so I thought. Although dear poor husband, whom I got out of bed at 7 to check it, said that he knew what I was talking about. Which, I guess, in sleepy husbandy means that he also saw it. If I understand well, a shadow would mean a slight presence on hCG. Which is a positive. Faint positive. Isn't it? Perfectly understandable, considering that I am 11 days post ovulation.
I called the office, and we are doing blood work on Friday. I will know for Friday afternoon. I don't have any symptoms, though. I'm just a little tired. And yes, my chin hair grew up. Which usually is a pretty good predictor. Chicago is covered in snow, the commute is nightmarish at best due to the CTA cuts (those are entitled to a whole post in my other blog), but I am walking around as happy as I can be. At least for today. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

And the doctor had bad news.

Progesterone= 9
hCG=44

Which means that hCG hasn't doubled. Which means that I am going to miscarriage sometime in the next couple of weeks. And this journey just keeps getting worse. I had my hopes up because my Fertility Friend chart looked wonderful. But nope, my doc said today. "I'm afraid I don't have good news". And at that very moment time stopped, and I started to cry. It was loud, very loud, so much that my toddler got scared, came to me, stroke my face and said : "Ya'ta, ya'ta" (translated from Spanish toddlerese: "Don't worry, it's over". Which is what I tell him when he gets hurt.
Then I went to the Internet. I have secondary recurrent pregnancy loss. At least, now it has a name. Next steps:
1. Primal screaming a little bit more
2. Calling my therapist. I need her big time.
3. Having more blood drawn tomorrow.
4. Talking to my OB on Saturday about the results.
5. Making an appointment at a clinic specialized in RPL at the University of Chicago
6. Waiting. An awful wait. At least this time I may have time to say goodbye.
I know I will keep a little bit of hope, hope for that infinitesimal chance of keeping this baby that my doctor didn't want me to believe in. But I can't help it.