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.

Weird dream

I don't usually remember my dreams, although I don't doubt that I have them, like everyone else. It gets worse as I age. When I was younger I was able to remember plenty of them, most pleasant, some unsettling. But nowadays, I could count with the fingers of a hand how many I remember in a year. But last night's was so vivid that it woke me up. I was at a doctor's office. The doctor was young and blond, she looked nice. She was going to perform some kind of medical procedure or test, gynecological, of course. For some reason she couldn't find a bed or stretcher in her facility, so we mysteriously transferred to a private facility, much nicer. I remember asking her what would happen if I were pregnant. She then infused my vagina with a liquid that soon settled, becoming solid. Somehow, through this material, she was able to tell if there was a heartbeat way before home pregnancy test can come back positive. Of course, she said I was pregnant, but that she was going to proceed with whatever she was going to do, no matter what. I remember some struggling, and then I woke up, startled to say the least.
Didn't I say it was weird? And no, just because a dream said so I don;t think I am pregnant. It could be, but it is too soon to know. And I am actually having pretty bad abdominal pain as I write. It could be implantation pain, but most likely it's due to the progesterone, since I remember something similar from last month. But, my it be a way for my organism to tell me that I shouldn't feel pushed by a doctor to try experimental things? I may call Dr. S tomorrow to ask about the pain. And I will try not to think too much about the dream. Or the hopes.

This is getting very nasty

We had our last appointment with doctor S on Christmas Eve. We had started trying before we got her permission, on Sunday, but I thought that after staying in Chicago over Christmas, a very hard first for us, just to try to get pregnant, I should give it a shot. According to Fertility Friend our chances are good. The results from the uterine lining biopsy came back normal, but doctor S thought it may be maturing a little slowly, so she prescribed progesterone. I thought this would be taken by mouth, or injected... Of course not, you have to insert it vaginally, behind your cervix. Twice a day. In my case, with my tiny little fingers, which were never very practical even for masturbation, not to talk about placing little tiny orange balls behind a piece of myself... And now I say, "ho, ho, ho,ho...". What did Santa bring? 60 little round orange pills. I just inserted the first one, and it is nasty. Not easy. And my vagina feels funny. I hope that at least it will work...I have to start putting it in three days after the LH surge, and until my period starts again, or until the tenth week of pregnancy. I have some long months ahead of me...
Reviewing my daily routine, now that I have to teach at 8 am... I wake up at 6 so I can take the levothyroxine, so I can have breakfast one hour later at 7 so I can run to the University on time.While I wait to eat, I pop a little pill into my vagina. Repeat at night, followed by the prenatal vitamin. Ho, ho, ho, ho!!!!