Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Memories of spring-

It's been raining a lot lately, but all that does is bring out the life all around us (not that I'm seeing much of it from my couch). But our tree, his tree, is blooming again. Pretty little white cherry blossoms bursting forth for another year. Their blooming reminds me of what time it is.

They always bloom around the anniversary, which snuck up on me. Which that's no surprise anymore. Loss anniversaries always seem to sneak up on me when I least expect them. We got through the two year loss of the second one, and here we are coming up on the three year anniversary of the first one. Yes, you read that right. Three years ago next week, we lost our first pregnancy.

Where did the time go?

Sitting here, being pregnant for the moment and trapped in uncertainty, I feel like I'm relieving all my pregnancies at once. I'm on bed rest like the second time, worried about slow rising betas like the last time, dealing with spotting/bleeding again, and feeling the same symptoms as the first time (although this time I'm pretty sure all symptoms can be directly attributed to the meds). But still, it feels like all 3 pregnancies and losses combined.

My next blood draw I'll be 5wks 5days, based on my ovulation date. That's the longest an embryo has ever survived. When I was 5wks 5 days with the second one, I woke up that morning covered in blood. My beta that day was in the 5 thousands, the ultrasound showed a gestational sac right on track... but no yolk sac, no fetal pole, and a bleed near the embryo. The next ultrasound showed very little change, the next one there was none. I didn't miscarry until I took the medicine to induce at 8wks. That pregnancy had been perfect until suddenly it wasn't. My betas tripled, my progesterone was like 60, things were great... until they weren't.

We got an invitation email today for a nephew's birthday party, which we had to decline again. The first time we declined was for his 1st birthday; we canceled last minute because as I grabbed his present to leave the house, I fell over in severe pain. We ended up in the emergency room having our first miscarriage. We never told them why we canceled. This time we declined again, and very openly I told her it's because we're trying to save a pregnancy.

I miss those babies, all of them.
How I worry about the little embryo I now carry within me.

I often joke with A-, in our dark humor from years of loss, about how the only thing my body does efficiently is to kill babies. I wish it wasn't true, but it has been so far the only thing it can do consistently. I hate that. I hate my womb of doom. I wish I could love my body, every part of it. But I can't, that'll always be the place where I lost all my hopes and dreams. The burial ground for my heart.

There's a lot of emotions wrapped in these two weeks: (hopefully) getting as far in this pregnancy as I did with the second one, another beta draw that day, a (possible) ultrasound on Monday, and then two days later the 3 year anniversary of when I lost the first pregnancy.

The only guarantees on that list, are the loss anniversary and that I will get blood work done no matter what.

Everything else, all we can do is wait to see what happens.

We've been through so many losses, that I can not get excited about this. Hope for the best, yes. But get excited? Expect things to work? Think I'm in the clear? Never.


Lissie said...

So sorry honey. I can't begin to imagine the pain of your losses. My thoughts are with you.

Kristin said...

Doesn't it suck completely to not even be able to get excited? Lots of {{{hugs}}} and love coming your way.

St Elsewhere said...

I am so sorry, hun.

It must be hard. Your nephew's birthday will continue to come around the same time, and that tree will bloom at the same time. It just is hard.

Your last beta has come out superb. I am so so so holding you in my prayers. I don't know if they count for much, but this side of the world, I am covering for you.

Melis.sa said...


I am so, so sorry for your losses and all the pain they carry with them year after year.

It's always surprising how fresh the pain can be, especially when it sneaks up on you and then the date becomes this blazing force.

I'm still praying and thinking of you and this pregnancy, still hoping for the best. ((HUGS))

Celia said...

I am freaked out for you, I have no clue how crazy this must be making you but I can imagine. I am off to bed, but I think of you so often and really pray you can take this baby home. You have so much to offer a child and I KNOW you will parent one day.

Ed said...

Thinking of you. Hugs.