(You Drive Me) Crazy
Friday was a big day - our first post-transfer ultrasound! I insisted that hubby go into work a little late to see if we could see our girl together for the first time. We had a doctor I had never met before, and as soon as he came into the room, he congratulated us. That's always a good sign. He reviewed how well my levels had gone up and told us we'd be looking for a gestational sac, a black dot in the middle of the uterus.
I had already demanded that the universe let us see it. I know that some people don't, and though that doesn't necessarily mean they're not pregnant, it wouldn't exactly put my mind at rest if that happened.
But almost as soon as the wand was inserted, the black dot was clear. And inside that was a smaller white dot, which was the yolk sac. I was told that I was 5 weeks and 2 days on, and the ultrasound matched up perfectly with that. (After my last entry, a friend directed me to a due date calculator that factors in IVF. It told me my due date was September 17 and estimated me at five weeks along. Now that that matched what the doctor told me, I know that due date must be correct. Even though I still haven't been explicitly told that information.)
It was a great day. We saw her, and we even got a second picture of her. Nerves had built up a bit prior to the appointment, especially because until then, I had been having my blood tested every other day. Even though the hCG levels had been increasing as they should, having not checked them in over a week was really leaving it up to chance. So that visual was amazingly positive.
Later in the day, my nurse called, but not late enough that the school day was over yet, so I couldn't answer. I was looking forward to her voice mail... but when I got the chance to check, there wasn't one. That made me start to worry again. Even when there was bad news to be delivered, my nurse would at least leave me the suggestion to call her back. I called her and got her voicemail, which said she had already left the office. Luckily, she hadn't, and she returned my call not long afterwards. Of course, she had left a long voicemail, but my phone wouldn't register that until the next afternoon.
The news was all good. My hCG had "skyrocketed" to 3,460. The yolk sac isn't even usually seen until the next ultrasound. So I guess our little girl is developing just ahead of schedule, which is exciting. In fact, for the first time, instead of using her calm, neutral voice, my nurse sounded thrilled. That set my mind at much greater ease. My next appointment was scheduled for Monday the 28, which I felt was a good omen for two reasons: 1. "My" doctor, who I haven't even heard from since early December, is on for Monday morning monitoring, and 2. I'm a huge Backstreet Boys/Nick Carter fan, and Nick Carter's birthday is the 28.
Listen. I'll take good omens wherever I can find them, okay?
That weekend, I discovered that there may not be a single human on the planet who doesn't already know about this pregnancy. My mother has told everyone, as well as passed the ultrasound picture around to many. It was a little frustrating. Then again, I did my fair share of showing it off at work on Friday, so it would be hypocritical of me to be too upset. And, much like everyone I work with would see it on my face if something went wrong, my mom would tell all her close friends the same. So I let that go.
On Monday, we were at my great uncle's house over an hour away, and when I went to the bathroom, I spotted a very tiny bit of blood. My heart rate kicked into over drive. I told hubby, and he was terrified. I mentioned it quietly to my mom as well. She wanted me to call the clinic immediately, but I know (logically) that spotting is typical in early pregnancy, so they would most likely tell me just that. No point panicking, even though we did a little for a few minutes.
Went to the bathroom a few minutes later, and there was no blood at all. *Phew* In fact, I think it had just been the lighting. I joked that this little girl is already making us terrified, and she's not even out of the womb yet, not even close! The most scared we'd been, hands down, even more than waiting for the initial pregnancy news.
Until today.
This morning I felt some very mild nausea as I walked around the cafeteria on breakfast duty (making sure all the kids are actually sitting and eating and not generally causing a ruckus). I've had that a few times. Only once did I actually run to the porcelain throne, but the feeling passed. (I'd never been so excited to almost throw up in my life.) I chatted with my expecting vice principal about babies and nausea and the awesomeness of how fast little fetuses grow. (Today was the first day of week six, which means the little girl is the size of a lentil. While that's tiny, that's 10,000 times larger than she was at conception. That's a crazy rate of growth. Obviously, there are a lot of pieces of pregnancy that you understand theoretically as you grow up, but when you're actually staring them in the face, they're so much more concrete.)
A few minutes later, my entire team of teachers, guidance counselors, and the vice principal had a meeting with some students to discuss their behavior with them. It wasn't a comfortable conversation, and I don't have any of the students myself, so I couldn't wait for that to be over.
(Warning: The next few paragraphs are going to get a little graphic, so if that bothers you, skip ahead a little. Though I have a feeling if that was bothersome, you'd have given up reading extensively about my lady parts some time ago.)
As I was standing there with my best somber face on, I started to have some cramps. I wanted to sit down, but I didn't know where would be most appropriate, as the students were spread around the room. I didn't want to sit at the teacher's desk as it wasn't my room...
... and then I realized that I was bleeding. A really big shit went through my head. I moved towards the door, grabbed the arm of the closest counselor who I really do trust, and said, "I don't feel so good. I have to go."
"Do you want me to walk you to the nurse?" she whispered.
"No," I said, slipping out of the room. I walked quickly to the nearest bathroom.
Where I found that I was bleeding a lot. I had soaked through clothes. I sat on the toilet freaking out, and I started the cry. I could feel the bleeding continuing. Why is this happening?! I internally demanded of the universe. Everything was perfect. Why is this happening?
I texted hubby and then my mom and then the main office secretary. Hubby said he would leave work immediately; Mom called to say she was on her way; Secretary came running to help me out and brought me a pad. She helped get me to the nurse's office.
On the way there, I ran into my co-teacher, who smirked at me and asked knowingly, "Were you sick?"
I felt my face absolutely crumple as I told her what happened. She came with me to the nurse, where we sat in a back room, and I cried some more.
"I don't have any experience with this," she said nervously. "I don't know what to say. I don't have any advice."
Which is perfect, because when I'm actually going through shit, I don't like advice.
She sat with me until she had to meet our principal, and then I finally called the clinic. I told the woman who answered what was going on. "Is the blood bright red?" she asked. I said yes, and they quickly connected me to my nurse. I explained the situation to her shakily.
"Okay," she said as calmly as possible. "This doesn't necessarily mean anything. It's really only bad if you're soaking through a pad every hour. I know it just started, but do you think there's that much blood?"
I had actually passed a bit of a clot. "A few minutes ago, yes. Now I don't know."
"How soon can you be here?"
Once my mom arrived, the school staff went into high gear to help me get my belongings together. (They were spread out all over the school due to my morning schedule.) I went to the bathroom again and saw that the bleeding had subsided a lot. Okay. That was a good sign.
Though Facebook and I aren't always friends at the moment, I turned to the infertility social media groups that I'm a member of for support. I posted what was happening, and in an instant, I was inundated with stories from women who experienced the exact same thing and had not miscarried. Some had hematomas, which are relatively common, particularly with IVF. A friend of mine assured me that since everything had been better than normal up until now, things would be fine. I was feeling a lot better by the time I got to the clinic. If you were one of those people praying, liking my status, or offering support, I can not thank you enough.
The cramping was still pretty bad, so I took some Tylenol on the way. Luckily, the pain subsided pretty quickly. They took me in for bloodwork right away. As I sat waiting for the phlebotemist, my nurse, who I haven't seen in person since August, came and found me and gave me a big hug. She was encouraging since the blood had tapered off. The woman who took my blood told me to just keep praying (which, trust me, I was, as well as telling the universe that I don't have time for this shit, nor do I deserve it), and she also gave me a hug when we were finished. And luckily my veins were cooperative on the first try.
I was nervous for the ultrasound, less because of nerves about the baby at that point, and more because I knew the doctor I had never wanted to see again was on today. At least my mom was there, and just before the doctor came in, Hubby arrived. He was pacing the tiny room, much more nervous than I was. I regaled him with as many calming stories as I could.
When the doctor came in, she introduced herself this time. There was real concern in her eyes, too. She inserted the wand...
...and there was our girl, just as easily found as last time. Sighs of relief went up from all of us, even, it seemed, the doctor and the two women she had brought in with her. We could even see a new feature, the fetal pole, which is the first actual image of the fetus. And then the doctor turned the sound on, and we got to hear her heart beat.
If before we had had sighs of relief, now there were actual cries of joy and plenty of happy tears. Her heart rate was 99bpm, which is consistent for the six week mark. I actually couldn't believe how regular it was, since I had read that it stays irregular for a few more weeks. It was loud and strong, and all day, Hubby has been saying it's the greatest sound he's ever heard, that he could listen to it on repeat forever.
So there's no sign of a hematoma. No real reason we could see for the bleeding other than this kind of nerve wracking nonsense happens sometimes. We left with more hugs from my nurse, a bunch more pictures, and a note excusing me from work for the rest of the week. I'm on bed rest until then, sitting on my butt so it gets nice and sore.
At least the bleeding has completely subsided, and this intense crazy day had a happy ending.
But really, little girl, did you have to pull a stunt like this to get me to pay more attention?
She's going to be quite the firecracker.
I had already demanded that the universe let us see it. I know that some people don't, and though that doesn't necessarily mean they're not pregnant, it wouldn't exactly put my mind at rest if that happened.
But almost as soon as the wand was inserted, the black dot was clear. And inside that was a smaller white dot, which was the yolk sac. I was told that I was 5 weeks and 2 days on, and the ultrasound matched up perfectly with that. (After my last entry, a friend directed me to a due date calculator that factors in IVF. It told me my due date was September 17 and estimated me at five weeks along. Now that that matched what the doctor told me, I know that due date must be correct. Even though I still haven't been explicitly told that information.)
It was a great day. We saw her, and we even got a second picture of her. Nerves had built up a bit prior to the appointment, especially because until then, I had been having my blood tested every other day. Even though the hCG levels had been increasing as they should, having not checked them in over a week was really leaving it up to chance. So that visual was amazingly positive.
Later in the day, my nurse called, but not late enough that the school day was over yet, so I couldn't answer. I was looking forward to her voice mail... but when I got the chance to check, there wasn't one. That made me start to worry again. Even when there was bad news to be delivered, my nurse would at least leave me the suggestion to call her back. I called her and got her voicemail, which said she had already left the office. Luckily, she hadn't, and she returned my call not long afterwards. Of course, she had left a long voicemail, but my phone wouldn't register that until the next afternoon.
The news was all good. My hCG had "skyrocketed" to 3,460. The yolk sac isn't even usually seen until the next ultrasound. So I guess our little girl is developing just ahead of schedule, which is exciting. In fact, for the first time, instead of using her calm, neutral voice, my nurse sounded thrilled. That set my mind at much greater ease. My next appointment was scheduled for Monday the 28, which I felt was a good omen for two reasons: 1. "My" doctor, who I haven't even heard from since early December, is on for Monday morning monitoring, and 2. I'm a huge Backstreet Boys/Nick Carter fan, and Nick Carter's birthday is the 28.
Listen. I'll take good omens wherever I can find them, okay?
That weekend, I discovered that there may not be a single human on the planet who doesn't already know about this pregnancy. My mother has told everyone, as well as passed the ultrasound picture around to many. It was a little frustrating. Then again, I did my fair share of showing it off at work on Friday, so it would be hypocritical of me to be too upset. And, much like everyone I work with would see it on my face if something went wrong, my mom would tell all her close friends the same. So I let that go.
On Monday, we were at my great uncle's house over an hour away, and when I went to the bathroom, I spotted a very tiny bit of blood. My heart rate kicked into over drive. I told hubby, and he was terrified. I mentioned it quietly to my mom as well. She wanted me to call the clinic immediately, but I know (logically) that spotting is typical in early pregnancy, so they would most likely tell me just that. No point panicking, even though we did a little for a few minutes.
Went to the bathroom a few minutes later, and there was no blood at all. *Phew* In fact, I think it had just been the lighting. I joked that this little girl is already making us terrified, and she's not even out of the womb yet, not even close! The most scared we'd been, hands down, even more than waiting for the initial pregnancy news.
Until today.
This morning I felt some very mild nausea as I walked around the cafeteria on breakfast duty (making sure all the kids are actually sitting and eating and not generally causing a ruckus). I've had that a few times. Only once did I actually run to the porcelain throne, but the feeling passed. (I'd never been so excited to almost throw up in my life.) I chatted with my expecting vice principal about babies and nausea and the awesomeness of how fast little fetuses grow. (Today was the first day of week six, which means the little girl is the size of a lentil. While that's tiny, that's 10,000 times larger than she was at conception. That's a crazy rate of growth. Obviously, there are a lot of pieces of pregnancy that you understand theoretically as you grow up, but when you're actually staring them in the face, they're so much more concrete.)
A few minutes later, my entire team of teachers, guidance counselors, and the vice principal had a meeting with some students to discuss their behavior with them. It wasn't a comfortable conversation, and I don't have any of the students myself, so I couldn't wait for that to be over.
(Warning: The next few paragraphs are going to get a little graphic, so if that bothers you, skip ahead a little. Though I have a feeling if that was bothersome, you'd have given up reading extensively about my lady parts some time ago.)
As I was standing there with my best somber face on, I started to have some cramps. I wanted to sit down, but I didn't know where would be most appropriate, as the students were spread around the room. I didn't want to sit at the teacher's desk as it wasn't my room...
... and then I realized that I was bleeding. A really big shit went through my head. I moved towards the door, grabbed the arm of the closest counselor who I really do trust, and said, "I don't feel so good. I have to go."
"Do you want me to walk you to the nurse?" she whispered.
"No," I said, slipping out of the room. I walked quickly to the nearest bathroom.
Where I found that I was bleeding a lot. I had soaked through clothes. I sat on the toilet freaking out, and I started the cry. I could feel the bleeding continuing. Why is this happening?! I internally demanded of the universe. Everything was perfect. Why is this happening?
I texted hubby and then my mom and then the main office secretary. Hubby said he would leave work immediately; Mom called to say she was on her way; Secretary came running to help me out and brought me a pad. She helped get me to the nurse's office.
On the way there, I ran into my co-teacher, who smirked at me and asked knowingly, "Were you sick?"
I felt my face absolutely crumple as I told her what happened. She came with me to the nurse, where we sat in a back room, and I cried some more.
"I don't have any experience with this," she said nervously. "I don't know what to say. I don't have any advice."
Which is perfect, because when I'm actually going through shit, I don't like advice.
She sat with me until she had to meet our principal, and then I finally called the clinic. I told the woman who answered what was going on. "Is the blood bright red?" she asked. I said yes, and they quickly connected me to my nurse. I explained the situation to her shakily.
"Okay," she said as calmly as possible. "This doesn't necessarily mean anything. It's really only bad if you're soaking through a pad every hour. I know it just started, but do you think there's that much blood?"
I had actually passed a bit of a clot. "A few minutes ago, yes. Now I don't know."
"How soon can you be here?"
Once my mom arrived, the school staff went into high gear to help me get my belongings together. (They were spread out all over the school due to my morning schedule.) I went to the bathroom again and saw that the bleeding had subsided a lot. Okay. That was a good sign.
Though Facebook and I aren't always friends at the moment, I turned to the infertility social media groups that I'm a member of for support. I posted what was happening, and in an instant, I was inundated with stories from women who experienced the exact same thing and had not miscarried. Some had hematomas, which are relatively common, particularly with IVF. A friend of mine assured me that since everything had been better than normal up until now, things would be fine. I was feeling a lot better by the time I got to the clinic. If you were one of those people praying, liking my status, or offering support, I can not thank you enough.
The cramping was still pretty bad, so I took some Tylenol on the way. Luckily, the pain subsided pretty quickly. They took me in for bloodwork right away. As I sat waiting for the phlebotemist, my nurse, who I haven't seen in person since August, came and found me and gave me a big hug. She was encouraging since the blood had tapered off. The woman who took my blood told me to just keep praying (which, trust me, I was, as well as telling the universe that I don't have time for this shit, nor do I deserve it), and she also gave me a hug when we were finished. And luckily my veins were cooperative on the first try.
I was nervous for the ultrasound, less because of nerves about the baby at that point, and more because I knew the doctor I had never wanted to see again was on today. At least my mom was there, and just before the doctor came in, Hubby arrived. He was pacing the tiny room, much more nervous than I was. I regaled him with as many calming stories as I could.
When the doctor came in, she introduced herself this time. There was real concern in her eyes, too. She inserted the wand...
...and there was our girl, just as easily found as last time. Sighs of relief went up from all of us, even, it seemed, the doctor and the two women she had brought in with her. We could even see a new feature, the fetal pole, which is the first actual image of the fetus. And then the doctor turned the sound on, and we got to hear her heart beat.
If before we had had sighs of relief, now there were actual cries of joy and plenty of happy tears. Her heart rate was 99bpm, which is consistent for the six week mark. I actually couldn't believe how regular it was, since I had read that it stays irregular for a few more weeks. It was loud and strong, and all day, Hubby has been saying it's the greatest sound he's ever heard, that he could listen to it on repeat forever.
So there's no sign of a hematoma. No real reason we could see for the bleeding other than this kind of nerve wracking nonsense happens sometimes. We left with more hugs from my nurse, a bunch more pictures, and a note excusing me from work for the rest of the week. I'm on bed rest until then, sitting on my butt so it gets nice and sore.
At least the bleeding has completely subsided, and this intense crazy day had a happy ending.
But really, little girl, did you have to pull a stunt like this to get me to pay more attention?
She's going to be quite the firecracker.
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