I Feel Like Crap, But I Guess That’s Good

Here’s how a typical conversation of mine goes these days:

Dad/brother/close friend: How are you feeling?

Me: Pukey (note – this is my clever way of not having to remember whether nauseated or nauseous is the right word (it’s nauseated, right?)

Dad/brother/close friend: Good!

I haven’t been able to master the balance of full stomach vs. empty stomach needed to stave off the nausea. I think I’ve been doing a good job at eating healthfully – but it seems that every hour I need to be noshing on something otherwise I start feeling ill. Fatigue is omnipresent. And the heartburn and gas that come along with no warning are not helping matters. The other day I was in a Barnes & Noble, and literally had to stop in my tracks on the way to the register while I literally bowled over with pain from a bad gas cramp. There was a manager near by who stopped giving instructions mid-sentence as he watched me fearfully. It passed, and I managed to check-out, but then I had to run back up 3 floors to use the bathroom. Blech.

But I’ll happily take it all and suffer through it. I’m just so grateful to be here.

This morning I called my insurance company to pre-certify and enroll in their “Maternity Care Program.” Tomorrow I have my first appointment with the OB. There still are moments where I can’t believe that I should be doing these things. But then the nausea creeps up and it’s not imaginary at all. And that’s good.

Doris Day Had It Right

The good news is that embryo #1 looks “perfect” to quote the doctor. Heartbeat was at 151 bpm and on my 7w4d (s)he measured 7w2d, or 11.7mm. Isn’t (s)he just adorable?


The sad news is that it doesn’t look like embryo #2 will stick around. (S)He only grew a little bit (not enough apparently for my RE to bother measuring), and the heart rate was well under 100 bpm – so on screen it just looked like a flatline. It saddens me, but que sera, sera. Part of me feels a little responsible for its demise – as if perhaps my being scared and worried about a twin pregnancy had an effect. I know that is crazy and stupid and not at all true, but we all know how emotions don’t listen to reason.

On the other hand, I’m feeling better today than I was on Friday. Less upset, more hopeful and excited. I’ve been reminding myself that the RE’s goal of an IVF cycle is a singleton live birth. A vanishing twin this early in the game shouldn’t have any impact at all on the remaining embryo. Apparently it happens 30% of the time. And honestly, if I get a healthy baby 32 weeks from now, I’ll have won.

So, I’ve been released from my RE’s care. I’ve been relieved of PIO injection duty. I actually made it through 6 weeks of IM injections without a single lump in my tush. My first appointment with a plain old Ob/Gyn is 6/28. Until then, I just have to take things as they come. Whatever will be, will be.

The Post Where I Respond To Anonymous

Anonymous’ comment on my last post:

Shame on you. You expected support when you were in need before but now you cannot be there for the pain and loss of others? Shame, shame. Do you think your good luck (and that is all that it is) can be contaminated by others' pain and grief??

What defines a blog troll? Is the person who left me the comment above a troll? I tend to think so since she didn’t leave a name or way to identify herself.

I also think she missed the point of my previous post. Didn’t I write that I “feel guilty for being a lucky one”? Doesn’t that imply that I know my current state is due to good luck?

I’m also not certain that anyone who writes a blog expects support. We hope for it – and for that sense of joining a community, but I also think that we understand when it is necessary for whatever reason for someone to disappear from the community for awhile. There are no contracts signed when you start a blog, or post on another’s. Except that I would hope anyone reading would respond with compassion and courtesy. The old adage “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all” should always apply.

And finally, sadly, I DO think that I can be “contaminated” by other’s pain and grief. While I wouldn’t personally use the word “contaminated” – I certainly know that I have been affected by the tragedies that have befallen those fellow bloggers that I’ve been following for some time. If the failures of others don’t hurt, than the successes wouldn’t give hope, and the sense of community in the IF blogosphere wouldn’t exist.

To those of you who responded to my last post before anonymous, I thank you for telling me that you are still reading and want to hear the good news that’s out there. It means so much to me to know that.

Hopefully I'll have some more good news to share soon.

7 weeks (But who's counting?)

I know I haven’t been writing. I'm sorry.

Part of it is due to typical IF survivor’s guilt, and part of it is that I’m scared to hang around the blogosphere. There’s too much bad and not enough good, and right now I don’t feel particularly well equipped to handle the bad. I’m trying so hard to maintain my optimism that this pregnancy of mine will be okay, that reading of others’ misfortune not only terrifies me, but makes me feel guilty for being a lucky one. And I feel bad about that, because I want to offer my support to those in hard times, but at the same time I don’t want to force them to think of me and the fact that (so far, knock on wood) I’m doing okay. So, please forgive me if I tend to be quiet for awhile…

As for the update for those of you that are curious:

Friday I had my second ultrasound, when I was officially 6w4d. There were indeed still 2 gestational sacs, and each sac had an embryo, each with a beating heart. One embryo measured perfectly on target at 6w4d, but the other one was behind, measuring only 6 weeks. It’s only a matter of a few millimeters, but the doctor said (as we all know) it could go either way. I keep telling the little one to stick around, but only time will tell. I return again on Friday to see what he decided to do.

Meanwhile, towards the end of last week typical pregnancy symptoms have started coming on strong. My breasts feel achy and tingly and the nausea has begun. In fact, for your pleasure I present my list of things that have made me gag or want to gag in the past 72 hours or so:

1. The juices spilling from a hamburger grilling
2. The smell of fried eggs in the morning
3. Brushing my teeth
4. Flossing my teeth
5. Riding a crowded subway
6. Putting a crochet hook in my mouth
7. Putting a pen in my mouth
8. JERSEY BOYS winning the TONY for Best Musical (okay that wasn’t morning sickness-y, but really, it makes me sick).

Still Scoreless - But Coming Up to Bat

Last night in the top half of the eighth inning, the Red Sox were down a run to our arch rivals the NY Yankees. Big Papi had just struck out and Manny was in the middle of his at bat. I patted my lower abdomen as is my new habit and told the embryos that they had to start cheering for the Sox now, ‘cuz the boys needed some help. And on the very next pitch Manny sends a shot 399 feet to the left field wall which really should have been a home run, but instead Yankees outfielder Melky Cabrera makes an amazing catch and robs us of the hit. I told my uterus tenants that they did good – and that next time surely, when they’re a little bigger, the ball will fly that extra distance to put the run up on the board.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

In case you didn’t pick up on it, the ultrasound last Friday showed two gestational sacs. They were the same size, right next to each other. My RE didn’t look for a fetal pole or yolk sac or anything, I just go back this Friday and hopefully will see two embryos wriggling inside their sacs.


I’m a little nervous about what the ultrasound will show and am trying hard not to count on anything. Reading of Thalia and Pamplemousse and Kris's experiences has me a bit shaken. It’s still the first inning after all, and we all know anything can happen.