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.

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.

After the hiatus

It's been a while since I last posted, but I didn't have any news of any kind. This is the first cycle we are really trying, and the OPK gave me positive reading on Friday. If we don't get pregnant this month, it will not be because we didn't try. So, now that I am done with the OPKs for at least fifteen days, I have to start the progesterone tomorrow. and I hate the thing. I forget it. I don't like popping orange little balls in my vagina. They turn all my underwear orange. They make my stomach upset, and give me gas problems way worse than the ones I had during my pregnancy. But I guess I have to keep doing it. I am not ready to lose another baby. This time it has to be ok.
Meanwhile, we are planning a trip to Mexico. In March. Supposedly I cannot travel until the fifteenth week, but I don't really care. I will ask. If it increases my chance of miscarrying, I will not go. But if they are just scared of me having any trouble in a foreign country without fancy American hospitals, I'm going. After all, I don't think I could be treated worse than I have been here until I found Dr S. And after a loooooong year, I really need a break. A palm tree. That's all I am asking for.
We'll see. About everything. Now to the "I think I have all kinds of pregnancy symptoms". I will test in ten days. Hopefully then, I will have a happy post.

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!!!!

Up... and down... up... and down...

... tarararararatararararara... This was a disco song from my teens. Long time ago. We are back to trying. I have to admit that we started on Sunday, without the doc's ok. But they left a message in my voicemail yesterday telling us to go ahead. My thyroid is back at 1.8, nice and comfortable. I still have to go on Thursday to get the results fromj the Yaleman. Nice start for my first Christmas Eve in the States. I don't enjoy the trying, but there is no way around it if I want a baby. DIY insemination is way cheaper than the medical one. So we'll keep trying. And if I don't get pregnant this month, 2010's will be the second Christmas I spend far from home. Tararararararatararararara. Up... and down... Just like my mood.

Done and cleared

I finally had my hysteroscopy done yesterday, and it wasn't nearly as scary or painful as I expected. They took very good care of me, the were gentle and sensitive, and doped me accordingly. As my doctor said, I was loopy. She also said that my uterus looked lovely, one of the best compliments I have ever heard. I left a happy woman. She found some scarring in my cervix (probably due to the IUD) that she had to remove in order to get in. But everything else is good. She took a biopsy that we sent to the man in Yale, so he tells us how my uterine lining is doing. And she wants to see us again on the 17th, to regroup, and, as far as my thyroid is back to normal, give us the go to trying again.
On the down side, we saw a genetic counselor on Tuesday regarding Hubby's chromosomal translocation. We have a 15% higher chance of miscarriage than everybody else, and we have a 3% higher chance of having a baby with birth defects, of any kind. Of course they offered embryo selection, sperm donation, and all kind of prenatal invasive tests to decide whether to continue with the pregnancy or not. Of course I refused. They were understanding, and not at all pushy. They understood. And I am glad they did. Because there is no reason that would make me get rid of my baby. I totally respect whatever decision anyone else does. But not me. I couldn't. They will be my babies. As the three I lost were. As the one who is running around the apartment naked still is. No mother should aspire to perfection. It's not how it works. And if you do, maybe you shouldn't be a mother at all. Am I being judgemental? Maybe. But I feel entitled. I will be just happy to keep being a mom. I know where I am getting myself into. I know the chances. And I will welcome and love every child we have. We won't cope with the problems until they arrive. Wisdom learning of the week.
Despite all this, I couldn't be happier. Because little L is walking (and running, and bouncing, and hugging, and kissing) proof that we can have a baby. I just can't wait to try again, with more knowledge, and more peace.

One year

I can't believe it, but it has been one year since I started this blog. Tomorrow is my birthday, which means that I should be cleaning up and preparing things for the party I finally had to organize myself. I'm certainly not happy about that. One year ago I hoped I would have a chubby baby in my arms by this time. I don't. I could have, the due date for the first miscarriage passed this week. But I don't. An I have two more missed due dates to go. They will be hard. I don't have a baby in my arms, but I know more than last week. It turns out that I'm fine. But our chances of carrying a baby to term are slimmer. Apparently little L was our lucky shot. The doc said we have good chances of having more babies. But they want to do all kinds of prenatal testing. And I don't. I won't. Because even in the worst case scenario, I would never terminate the pregnancy. I'm as agnostic as they come, but I have lost three tiny babies. As little as they could be at six weeks of pregnancy, they were my babies. I also won't get pregnant unless I have realistic expectations of having a VBAC. If a c-section is mandatory, I'm out.
We have an appointment with a genetic doctor in two weeks. They wanted to meet this week, but of course Mr Hubby is too busy. Which bugs me. A lot. The doctor made sure to repeat him one hundred times that it is not his fault. I didn't hear anything of the kind when the ball was on my side of the court. Am I pissed? Very much. Do I feel bad for him? Certainly. But when today I got a package with all the forms from the genetic office, I got mad. Because they are addressed at me. Because they include a shiny brochure of all the fancy prenatal tests they can perform. Because I know I'm in for a fight. And one year later, I don't know if it is a fight I can endure. What a lovely birthday I will have. In four hours, I will be thirty.