post surgery blues

I had my laporoscopy on Friday.  I'm home now, recovering and off work for at least a week until my stitches are gone.  Surgery wasn't too bad.  It's the recovery that sucks.  I'm not allowed to do much for the week and I'm going batshit crazy.  I thought I would be able to spend a blissful week catching up on some reading, organizing my drawers, baking etc...instead...I have post surgery depression.  Yep, that's a thing.


I hope this will all be worth it some day.

Surgery is 2 weeks away

It has been 5 months since my last miscarriage.  My husband and I were told not try to have another baby until my surgery.  Well....finally, I have a date.  November 15th....from now on that date will forever be Christmas/New Years/Valentines day and every other holiday rolled into one. 

I have never been so excited to have my insides ripped open!!!

Factor Five

Factor Five Leiden...what the hell is that?

My RE called me the other day to give me some news about some blood work I had had done a few weeks previous.  He told me that I tested positive for factor five leiden.  It is a genetic disorder passed down from one of my parents.  I called them both and expected at least one of them to take the blame...but neither did. Of all things to inherit, a genetic mutation!!

Well after numerous "googles" I got to the bottom of factor five leiden...It is a blood clotting issue that can affect pregnancy and can result in your baby becoming stillborn.  Great...now even if I manage to get past the dreaded first trimester, I will have stillbirth to worry about.

Some days I am not sure I am cut out for this journey.

East Coast Style

I'm from Toronto...big city, fast paced.  When I moved to Halifax, it took me almost a year to get used to what I describe as "east coast style".  Things move at a slower pace out here.  Nobody ever seems to be in a hurry....people will always "let you in" when you are driving.  It's simply more relaxed.  Perhaps it is this amazing ocean air.

Well...now I hate "east coast style". 

I check my mailbox everyday for a letter from the hospital confirming my surgery and all I find are bills!!  My doctor said it would be late Sept/early Oct....but when I called, the booking gargoyle told me it might not be until December!!!

I am 39 years of age! Time is ticking....you think I could bribe her?  Would a nice bottle of wine get me in a bit sooner???  Or maybe I should stop referring to her as "gargoyle".....karma seems to work against me lately!!!

The 2 week wait is difficult.

The 12 week wait (get me through the first trimester without a miscarriage) is even worse.

However, my new waiting game tops them all.  I am ready to try again.  I am ready to dive back into to baby making after our 3rd miscarriage, but I can't. 

Our doctor has recommended surgery.  He SUSPECTS I may have endometriosis based on my all of my ultrasounds this far and he wants to open me up, see what's going on and while he's in there, he's going to remove an ovarian cyst. Sounds like fun!  My surgery is scheduled for late September/early October.

So now I wait.  In limbo.  And it sucks.  I celebrated a birthday yesterday.  39.  In my gut and my heart, this is my final year of trying.  It's now or never.  Yes, I know that several women have successful pregnancies in their 40's, but I know for me, this is the big year.

It's now or never...I just wish NOW would hurry up and get here.

The odds have not been in my favour

In the 2 years that we have been "actively" trying to have a baby, I personally know 14 other couples that have gone on to have successful pregnancies.  They say the odds of miscarriage vary at around 20 percent.  Yet I am the only one (that I know of) who has miscarried.  I figured since that I have now had 3, I saved all of them.  I'm good that way. ;) 

One of my best friends had twins.  2 beautiful little boys.  After 6 months I finally worked up the courage to meet them.  I couldn't do it before.  In fact, I avoided her throughout her entire pregnancy.  We became pregnant around the same time, she went on to have 2 babies.  I got nothing. 

Only a few people know about my first miscarriage, even fewer about the 2nd and the 3rd.  One of these women has just had a child, the other is due shortly.  I can still recall the pity in their voices as they reluctantly told me they were pregnant.  Although I felt joy for them, I would not be human if I didn't feel the slightest twinge of jealousy.

I have been wondering if karma plays a role in any of this.  Was I a horrible person in a past life?  Did I pillage villages?  I hope not. 

I'm just waiting for the next baby shower invite to arrive in the mail. It shouldn't be long now!  Odds are...someone is due.

3rd time unlucky

Is it possible to feel numb about a miscarriage?

After the chemical pregnancy, we miraculously got pregnant again.  I have no idea how this happened.  Over 2 years of trying unsuccessfully, and then all of a sudden, 3 pregnancies within a year.  Maybe once I realized I actually COULD get pregnant, it was game on for those ovaries.

This pregnancy ended at 8 weeks.  I was now seeing a reproductive endroconologist because of my age and my history.  I really thought this one would stick.  Like seriously, no one has 3 miscarriages do they? I now had a great doctor, an RE who specialized in this stuff AND I would get an early ultrasound to calm my worries.  I was home free! I even bought a onesie for him....yep, I think this one was a boy.

I threw up for the first time in any of my pregnancies the day of my 8 week ultrasound.  I thought this was a good omen.  We shuffled off to the hospital with hope and anticipation.  I wanted to bring home one of those black and white polaroid looking pictures of my little baby growing inside.  I would have posted it on my fridge.  Yep, I know that's corny.

Well...you know how it went.  Baby stopped growing at 6 weeks.  The ultrasound tech said "I'm sorry".  My doctor recommend a D and C because of my history.  That previous miscarriage didn't go so well.  A day later, I was in surgery.  I walked out "numb".  That's the only way to describe it.

the middle child

I call miscarriage number 2 my middle child.  I don't know much about middle children.  In my family, I have a brother who is the oldest and me, the baby.  What I do know is that often they feel neglected.

About 6 months after my first miscarriage, I caught my rainbow.  5 days before my period, after a night out with my girlfriends I took a test. I'm a "need to know as soon as possible" kind of girl.  And there it was, a second pink line.  I honestly couldn't believe it.  I bought 2 more tests the next morning and all came up with the same result.  I was pregnant again.

I didn't know how to tell my husband.  He had suffered in silence through the first miscarriage and I was nervous to put him in on this roller coaster ride again.

5 days later, to my astonishment, my period arrived on cue....I ran to the bedroom crying.  My husband, who thinks I am crazy even at normal times was a bit alarmed.  A period is a common thing and not something to be sobbing about.  It was only then that I told him about the tests.

Chemical pregnancy....another early miscarriage and another blow to the heart.  I didn't even know if I could honestly count it....if I hadn't taken an early test, I wouldn't even know about this one.  But no, it counts...at least to me...

miscarriage number one

I miscarried my first baby at 11.5 weeks. The bleeding started on a Sunday.  I went to the emergency room and they really couldn't tell me anything.  They scheduled an emergency ultrasound for the next morning.

Ultrasound techs have an interesting job.  When things go well, it must be such a joyous experience to point out the little hands and feet to the new mom and dad up on the screen while they debate amongst themselves whether or not they think it is a boy or a girl.  But when it goes bad...I'm sure they wish they were in any other job possible.

I walked into the room dreading the worst.  I knew...deep down in my gut I knew...it was over....My baby measured 8.6 weeks and there was no heartbeat.  I can still hear her words, "I'm sorry" .  I asked if I could see the screen, in fact, I begged her.  I told her I needed to see my baby...I am not sure if it was protocol or not, but she let me.  And there she was (I think she was a she)...an almost fully formed little beautiful baby.  She was mine...and I was her mother.

After the ultrasound, a "Doogie Houser" doctor met me and told me that since I had already started bleeding, I should go home and let nature take its course.

Well nature must hate me because I ended up in the ER the following morning and ended up spending the next night in the hospital because "nature" decided to go all Tsunami on my body.  I lost way too much blood, had a borderline deadly blood pressure...and could have died.  My poor husband was there with me through the entire ordeal.

They sent me home the following morning with pamphlets and pitied looks.  I thought that was the worst I could ever feel...but who knew...that was only miscarriage number one.

It's not really a baby until 12 weeks you know

From the first moment I saw those 2 pink lines on a stick I was a changed woman forever.  I could not stop smiling. 

I joined every online baby community there was.  Babycenter, the bump, you name it, I joined it.  I was so excited to finally have gained entry into the mommy club.  Each week, I would receive a new notification about how big the size of the little nugget growing inside of me was.  I was already planning his or her jungle themed nursery and researching the best car seats on the market.

It was hard to keep it a secret in those first few weeks.  I really wanted to shout it out to the world but instead we only told a few close friends about our joyous news. 

This was the best pregnancy ever. No morning sickness, just fatigue.  Of course, I had done my research and just thought I was one of the lucky women out there who was blessed to not have morning sickness.  I wish I knew then what I know now.

After having found out that I was low on B12 and my precious new baby needed this, I was getting weekly injections.  I headed to a walk in clinic to have an injection.  I was not yet at 8 weeks, so I hadn't had my first "real" obstetrician visit.

This is how the visit went. 

"Hello, I'm Dr. Asshole, any  medical issues?"

" I'm 7 weeks pregnant!".....me, grinning from ear to ear

"Oh....well you know we don't really consider a woman pregnant until she is 12 weeks along.  Here's your shot, have a good day"

I walked out of the office dejected and destroyed....I think I knew right then and there that this was not just an asshole comment and I would not make it until 12 weeks...this was foreshadowing of what was to come....miscarriage number one.

clocks

I never wanted to be a mother. Traveled the world in my 20's, met my husband in my early 30's and the 2 of us settled into a comfortable life together....and besides, I had an amazing dog who seemed to fulfill all my mothering needs.  And then one day it hit me.  The clock.  You know the clock I mean.  The one that goes tick tock, tick tock on your ovaries almost like a ticking time bomb.

Here I was in my mid 30's, now deciding that I wanted to become a mom, to all things a human!...and I was not taking no for an answer from my husband.  Luckily, at least I like to believe it was luck, he may also have heard that clock and he really wasn't too opposed to the idea.

After spending years trying not to get pregnant, I really didn't think I would have any fertility issues but after almost 2 years of trying, I was starting to lose hope.  I was 37 years of age and time was no longer on my side.

And then one day it happened. 2 lines came up instead of one....who knew, that a year later, I would have suffered 3 miscarriages and still have no baby.