First and foremost, I want to thank all of you who have commented on my last two posts. From the bottom of my heart, truly thank you. I cried reading every comment. It meant so much to read your words of support, especially when I was struggling.
And now onto something better, our birth story!!
It all started with a meltdown. I'd like to say it was a mini-meltdown but that would be a lie. It was an all out crying, sobbing, irrational pity party. I had Monday off for the holiday and all day I was dreading going back to work. I just didn't want to do it anymore. I was uncomfortable and exhausted. I figured I had at least two weeks left of work, or maybe three if I went past my due date. It seemed daunting.
Anyway, I like to have everything ready for work and try to be in bed before 10:30pm. All of a sudden it was well past 10. I went upstairs to get clothes ready. I couldn't find anything that fit. All my button down shirts were stretched to the max. Everything else was too short and stuck out funny and you could see the panel of my maternity pants. The only things that still fit had just been worn the previous week. I got so frustrated and just gave up and figured I would address it in the morning.
Then I went downstairs to get my lunch ready. I stood in front of the fridge looking at the leftovers. I was going to need to repack things into single servings. I didn't want the food we had. I didn't want to even bother with it. I didn't want to have to go out for lunch the next day if I didn't pack anything. I looked at the clock and it was 10:45pm. I said, "How did it get so late so fast?!" Apparently hubby thought this was funny and laughed. Oh, that was it! I yelled, "Don't laugh at me! It's not funny!" and started bawling.
I went to the couch, which had been my bed for several weeks, and just cried. Hubby felt so bad. I sat there and tried to compose myself but I just couldn't stop crying. I probably cried on and off for almost an hour! Hubby told me I could stop working any time I wanted but I really didn't want to give up any pay. It worried me.
Finally I decided to try to get to sleep and hubby said he would sleep on the love seat for awhile. He fell asleep right away. At midnight I felt something like a contraction. Then I felt another one. At 12:16am I felt another one and thought that something might be up. I timed the next one and it came 8 minutes later. Then another one 8 minutes later. I woke up hubby and called to alert my mom. I told them I couldn't promise it was really it but I thought it could be. I told hubby we should go upstairs and finish packing my hospital bag with the last minute stuff.
The contractions continued to come every 8 minutes. I decided to take a shower and hubby could hear me breathing through contractions and said that they were now every 4 minutes. After my shower they continued every 4 minutes. I called my mom to tell her that we planned to leave for the hospital in about a half hour, once I had been having the 4-minutes for an hour, as instructed. She urged me to go right away. I told her I would finish getting ready and we would leave.
We soon left for the hospital and by the time we got there (less than 10 minute drive) the contractions were probably 3 minutes apart. The registration lady was surprised my contractions were so close together! We checked in and were taken to triage at 3:30 am. At this point I was still totally handling the contractions fine. I would breathe through them just fine. I was checked and was at 3 cm. The triage nurse told me I had to walk for an hour and show progress or else they would send me home. I knew there was no way they were sending me home at this point but I grudgingly went along with her little plan. She spent extra time monitoring me because she was having trouble keeping baby's heartbeat on the monitor so she told me I could go walk for just half an hour. My mom arrived and saw me in the hall but she had to wait until we were assigned a room.
The walking was torture. The contractions were getting BAD. I was now moaning through them and leaning on hubby and my lower back was killing me! It was fine when it was just cramping in the front but add in the extreme back pain and I wasn't handling it so well anymore. We returned to triage at least 5 minutes early, at about 4:30 am, and I told her I was ready to be checked. I was at 4.5 cm so she got me to a room. She obviously noticed how much worse I was doing and I was yelling about how bad my back hurt so as we walked through the door to my L&D room she asked if I was ready for an epidural. I said yes without really thinking about it. Then I hesitated for a moment because it was still so early. I had wanted to at least wait until I was dilated further but at the same time I didn't really care. I just wanted the back pain to stop.
My mom came in and the three of us waited for the epidural to come. My mom was trying to get me to breathe and relax during the contractions but I couldn't. I kept saying, "I can't I can't my back hurts too much!" Lying on my back I was in a terrible position for dealing with the contractions but they were prepping me for the epidural. My mom left at some point for some reason and after writhing and bitching through another contraction one of the nurses looked at me and said, "Ok, that one's done now" in a not very nice voice. I didn't like her.
Finally the epidural man arrived. I had two contractions while he got it going. It was extremely difficult to sit still and breathe through them but actually sitting up and bending over a pillow helped compared to lying in the bed. After it was in place he saw that I was really struggling through another two contractions so he told the nurse he was going to crank it up. God bless his soul.
After that my left leg went completely numb. They had me leaning that way so I wasn't flat on my back. I could still feel the contractions quite sharply in my lower right abdomen but as long as my back was ok I didn't care! But since I could still feel it the nurses propped me the other way and soon I felt nothing. Sweet, sweet nothing. Ahhh. I then could sleep, or at least doze. I was scared since I knew I hadn't slept in almost 24 hours. That was another reason I didn't feel bad about the epidural. I knew it could be trouble if I fought through labor for hours and then had to push.
I was a little scared the epidural would stall out labor. And then my mom kept saying how much lower the intensity of the contractions were since the epidural. She had me freaked out. Shortly after the epidural they checked me again and I was at 6.5 cm. I had a new nurse at this point and she said that they needed to see good progress or they would start pitocin because of the epidural. I obviously wanted to avoid that.
An hour later she came back to check again, probably about 8am. Her eyes got really big and she said, "Well your cervix is gone and that's a head!" I was stunned! I guess I didn't stall out! It was time to start pushing but I couldn't feel my left leg or butt at all! I told her I didn't know how I would push but we tried anyway. She said it really just wasn't effective since I had no idea what I was supposed to do. She said, "Well, we could keep doing this and it will probably take two or three hours..." and I said, "Or...??". She said we could wait about an hour and see if baby would work her way down a little farther and maybe my epidural would wear off a little. Apparently the anesthesiologist had really cranked it because I never pushed the boost button!
Anyway, she sat me straight up with my legs pulled in towards my body and I sat for about an hour. Over the hour I started feeling the pressure of baby's head down there. Then I could move my left foot again. Then finally I could identify when I was having contractions. She came back and I told her all the developments and she was happy. She said we would start pushing but we had to make it count because she could tell baby was starting to get stressed. Her heart rate was dropping with each contraction but rebounding fine and it wasn't concerning just yet.
So at about 9am I started pushing. After a while she said I was really getting it. It was so hard to know what to do! But once she kept saying I was doing good then I would try to just keep it up. And once hubby started really seeing the head and saying "WOW!" as I was pushing it was really encouraging. I tried not to push with my face or neck, which was really hurting, but it was so hard when I couldn't feel much down under. Finally I got my neck out of the equation but that was as good as I could do. Soon they called my doctor in and a bunch more nurses showed up, including the team for the baby. Oh, I forgot to mention that they had asked me if they could bring students in so both my nurse and the baby's nurse had a student with them. My nurse's student was a male and I didn't care but at that point it felt like a lot of people in the room!
I had no idea how close I was because it was only a couple more pushes and she came shooting out! All in all it was so easy and I never felt a thing! No pain whatsoever associated with the pushing or her coming out. Epidurals are amazing I am telling you! She was born at 10:28 am.
But this is when things went bad. They had told me what to expect when she was born. Hubby would cut the cord and then they would hand her to me so I could see her. Then they would take her, clean her up, and assess her vitals. Then hubby would take her and bring her to me to nurse and commence with the bonding! Unfortunately, that is not at all how it went.
Right away I could tell something was wrong. She wasn't crying and my doctor quick clamped and cut her cord and handed her to the nurse. I could see that they were shoving a tube down her nose. The doctor told me she wasn't breathing but they would get it taken care of. I tried to remain calm and no one was rushing in and they weren't rushing her out so I figured it was ok so far. Soon she was crying but it was muffled by the oxygen mask they had on her. I felt relieved when I heard her cry but then the nurse just kept working on her. I heard her say that she needed more crying, needed more movement. Apparently she had come out completely limp too. The longer they took the more I panicked. Nobody was telling me anything. I kept asking what was wrong and they just kept telling me she was fine. I knew she wasn't fine because she wasn't in my arms yet. Then my tears of joy turned to tears of panic and my mom could tell I was freaking out. So then my mom almost fainted and they called for help for her! She recovered quickly though and they cancelled the call. Yikes!
I really just wish they would have been more honest with me about what was going on. They didn't do me any favors by brushing it off. It turns out that she had aspirated a lot of fluid. They had to get the fluid out and get her breathing better and moving her arms and legs. My mom later asked the doctor if everything really was ok and she said yes, everything was fine and this wasn't all that uncommon. Again, I just wished they would have been more forthcoming and I wouldn't have freaked out so much. Hubby said he knew everything was fine because he was right over there. Thanks for telling me!
So finally hubby was able to bring me my bundle. Then the biggest problem was that I was trying not to sob and snot all over my baby! Oh, the tears of joy and relief. And she was so little! Just 6 lbs 7 oz but 20 inches long. I had a small amount of tearing (thank you small baby!) and the placenta came out fine.
Other than the scare, our baby girl is perfect. The rest of the time at the hospital every new nurse said she heard we had a rough start. Apparently I was the most exciting thing that happened that night! It's a small hospital!
Baby Girl knew mama did not want to go back to work! What a good girl for saving me! Now I don't have to go back until September 1st.
She has been everything I ever dreamed and more. I recently told hubby that I have everything I have ever wanted. I am truly blessed.
Thanks for following along with me. All I ever wish and pray for all of you is for your own baby dreams to come true.
P.S. I promised pics and her name to those who provided their email addresses. I will get to it, I promise! And send me more if you still want to get in on that!
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Update and Decision
On Monday we returned to the pediatrician's office. We undressed Baby Girl and I carried her to the scale and was so nervous to see what it would say. Since Friday's nearly one pound loss, she had regained a full half pound and was back up over 6 pounds! Phew, I was so relieved. I guess it wasn't surprising given what a little piggy she had turned into once she started getting formula! Everything else checked out just fine too.
I, on the other hand, was not faring as well. I had spent the whole weekend pumping my poor boobs off and wasn't getting any improvement. I was becoming more and more exhausted and feeling more and more sick. And I wasn't even doing the one thing I wanted to do which was just relax with my baby and enjoy how awesome she is. I was so frustrated by Sunday night that I started skipping my pumping times. I would sit there knowing it was time and just say to hubby, almost in tears, "I just don't want to do it anymore." It felt so pointless.
After assessing Baby Girl the NP we were seeing asked about the pumping. I told her the results and I told her that I have PCOS. She said that could definitely be the problem. I told her I had read up on it in the LLL article and a few other places and that my prognosis seemed bleak. She asked if I had had trouble getting pregnant. I told her I had and that it had been over a year and that I felt so tired of fighting against my body. She nodded, seeming to understand. She said that she would talk to the LC since my appt wasn't until Thursday and call me back later but that she thought it may not make sense to continue.
I had been thinking more and more about it over the weekend and was thinking that I probably wouldn't continue, but that I wanted to see what they would say. The things that stood out to me in the article that were influencing my decision were these, taken directly from the article:
"but it does seem clear that, for some of the women—especially those with early onset of the syndrome—there may not be enough glandular tissue to produce adequate milk"
"The traditional approach of more frequent feedings or pumping with an electric pump often does not make a significant difference, though it's always worth trying."
"The addition of prescriptive (metoclopramide or domperidone) or herbal galactogogues has brought varying results that only rarely approach a full supply."
and from another article cited in the LLL article:
"Generally, the later the onset of PCOS, the better odds a woman has of being able to establish a milk supply."
When I got a phone call back from the NP she said that the LC had said, "Oh no, we're not giving up yet." She wanted me to go get fenugreek, an herbal supplement, and take it three times a day. Then I would continue the feeding regimen and go for two or three weeks to see if I could get a supply.
Two or three weeks?! I just sat there having such conflicting thoughts. I couldn't put myself through this for two or three more weeks. My back was aching from the pumping, I was nauseous by about 6 pm every night, and I was getting downright depressed. I knew what I needed to do, for both of us, but I couldn't say it out loud. I was telling my mom all of the things I was reading. I was telling her all the things I was feeling. Finally when I quietly said that I wasn't going to take the herb my mom told me she thought I was making the right decision. And then I cried some more and then I tried to start to put it behind me.
It came down to a few things. I only have 7 weeks left at home with Baby Girl. I want those weeks to be happy and not frustrating and I want to be able to spend time with her and bond with her instead of bonding with the damn pump. If I thought I had a good chance of success, especially a good chance for a full supply, things would be different. I kept asking myself if it was worth it to fight so hard just to be able to give her a little milk and still have to supplement most of it. If I were going to be a SAHM and had lots of time that would have also been different.
I made the decision and it was difficult. But as soon as I made it I felt a weight lifted and I felt so much better. I can now feed her, as can anyone, and I can sleep and only be tied to her schedule and not a pumping schedule. I don't mind waking up for her but waking up to pump was no fun.
I still struggle with the decision. Thoughts keep popping in like that I should have tried, even for just a few more days. Or what if it was just that I was too tired or stressed and if I had focused on feeling better the milk would come pouring out. But I made my decision and I still feel it is right.
My boobs hurt like hell but I feel much better otherwise! And my mom stayed over so hubby and I got almost 7 hours of sleep last night. Not in a row but it still felt great.
And Baby Girl is healthy and happy and guzzling her formula and growing. And that is all that really matters.
I, on the other hand, was not faring as well. I had spent the whole weekend pumping my poor boobs off and wasn't getting any improvement. I was becoming more and more exhausted and feeling more and more sick. And I wasn't even doing the one thing I wanted to do which was just relax with my baby and enjoy how awesome she is. I was so frustrated by Sunday night that I started skipping my pumping times. I would sit there knowing it was time and just say to hubby, almost in tears, "I just don't want to do it anymore." It felt so pointless.
After assessing Baby Girl the NP we were seeing asked about the pumping. I told her the results and I told her that I have PCOS. She said that could definitely be the problem. I told her I had read up on it in the LLL article and a few other places and that my prognosis seemed bleak. She asked if I had had trouble getting pregnant. I told her I had and that it had been over a year and that I felt so tired of fighting against my body. She nodded, seeming to understand. She said that she would talk to the LC since my appt wasn't until Thursday and call me back later but that she thought it may not make sense to continue.
I had been thinking more and more about it over the weekend and was thinking that I probably wouldn't continue, but that I wanted to see what they would say. The things that stood out to me in the article that were influencing my decision were these, taken directly from the article:
"but it does seem clear that, for some of the women—especially those with early onset of the syndrome—there may not be enough glandular tissue to produce adequate milk"
"The traditional approach of more frequent feedings or pumping with an electric pump often does not make a significant difference, though it's always worth trying."
"The addition of prescriptive (metoclopramide or domperidone) or herbal galactogogues has brought varying results that only rarely approach a full supply."
and from another article cited in the LLL article:
"Generally, the later the onset of PCOS, the better odds a woman has of being able to establish a milk supply."
When I got a phone call back from the NP she said that the LC had said, "Oh no, we're not giving up yet." She wanted me to go get fenugreek, an herbal supplement, and take it three times a day. Then I would continue the feeding regimen and go for two or three weeks to see if I could get a supply.
Two or three weeks?! I just sat there having such conflicting thoughts. I couldn't put myself through this for two or three more weeks. My back was aching from the pumping, I was nauseous by about 6 pm every night, and I was getting downright depressed. I knew what I needed to do, for both of us, but I couldn't say it out loud. I was telling my mom all of the things I was reading. I was telling her all the things I was feeling. Finally when I quietly said that I wasn't going to take the herb my mom told me she thought I was making the right decision. And then I cried some more and then I tried to start to put it behind me.
It came down to a few things. I only have 7 weeks left at home with Baby Girl. I want those weeks to be happy and not frustrating and I want to be able to spend time with her and bond with her instead of bonding with the damn pump. If I thought I had a good chance of success, especially a good chance for a full supply, things would be different. I kept asking myself if it was worth it to fight so hard just to be able to give her a little milk and still have to supplement most of it. If I were going to be a SAHM and had lots of time that would have also been different.
I made the decision and it was difficult. But as soon as I made it I felt a weight lifted and I felt so much better. I can now feed her, as can anyone, and I can sleep and only be tied to her schedule and not a pumping schedule. I don't mind waking up for her but waking up to pump was no fun.
I still struggle with the decision. Thoughts keep popping in like that I should have tried, even for just a few more days. Or what if it was just that I was too tired or stressed and if I had focused on feeling better the milk would come pouring out. But I made my decision and I still feel it is right.
My boobs hurt like hell but I feel much better otherwise! And my mom stayed over so hubby and I got almost 7 hours of sleep last night. Not in a row but it still felt great.
And Baby Girl is healthy and happy and guzzling her formula and growing. And that is all that really matters.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Motherhood Fail #1
I know this is but the first of many times I will feel like I am failing my baby.
We had a rough day Friday after our trip to the pediatrician for our checkup. Baby girl was born at 6 pounds 7 ounces (a peanut, I know). Friday, at three days old, she weighed in at 5 pounds 9 ounces. I felt so bad. I thought she was nursing so well. She is a great latcher but apparently a very ineffective sucker. We thought she was so content and doing well because she would nurse well and sleep great. The doctor said she was probably getting weak and that was complicating her feeding and it was a bad cycle. They thought maybe it would be ok because my milk was just coming in so they had me feed her (which was when they saw that she doesn't suck properly) and then reweighed her and her weight didn't change at all.
Our pediatrician's office is great in terms of lactation support. The doctor herself is a certified LC (fairly newly though) and they have a LC on staff that you can see who has been doing it for over 30 years. So they know their stuff. They told us to start a three-hour cycle. I am to try to nurse her for up to 20 minutes. Then hubby or anyone besides me is to feed her 2 ounces of formula from a bottle while I pump for 15 minutes. They were hoping we can get her weight and strength up and my supply going which will make it easier for her to nurse.
I cried all the way home. I saw my plans of breastfeeding flying out the window. It all felt so overwhelming. And I felt terrible for being responsible for her weight loss.
Hubby and I headed off to a store to rent a pump and accessories. It was, strangely enough, run by a man who somehow really seems to know what he is talking about. He looked at me weirdly when I explained why I was there and what the doctor had said. Then he said, "No offense but pediatricians don't know what they're talking about with breastfeeding." I told him that she was a certified LC yadda yadda and he said "Oh! Must be Dr. So-and-so. She's great. Ok, now I believe it." I have heard that so many times about this doctor which makes me feel really good.
The feeding cycle plan has been rough. I thought maybe if I could get my supply going it would all work out. But I have been pumping every two to three hours since Friday and I can barely get a total of 0.4 ounces each time. I should be getting at least an ounce and even that would be low. And poor baby can still latch but I can tell she is getting frustrated with the nursing since she is probably getting nothing. I wish we didn't have to deal with all this. I thought things were going so well the first two days.
I have been reading up on PCOS affecting milk supply. Apparently it is a more serious problem than I thought. I had heard of it before but thought that since I am not a "typical" PCOS patient that it wouldn't apply to me. Interestingly enough, my blaming PCOS for my small breasts all this time has probably been accurate and it is now affecting my ability to make milk. La Leche League had a very informative article about PCOS and low milk supply. At the end of the article there was a paragraph about how LLL leaders can support women who are going through this and I just cried reading it because they were describing everything I feel so accurately. I feel doubly punished by PCOS for needing help to get pregnant and now possibly not being able to breastfeed. I feel grief over losing something I wanted to do. I was so happy when I thought it was going well. I would look down at her while she fed and just feel so happy thinking I was doing something good for her and that I was bonding with her. It felt amazing to feed her and now that may be gone. I, of course, feel guilty knowing I can't give her "what's best". And if I can't, I didn't even have a choice in the matter.
I know that formula will not hurt her. I know that I am not a bad mother. I'm just pissed. It's just another way my body has failed me in allowing me to experience the "normal" and amazing things that a woman's body should be capable of.
There have been a lot of tears the past few days.
On the bright side, we have a beautiful daughter that I could not love more. She is so precious and adorable and I just stare at her and want to do the very best for her. Hubby and I did a damn fine job if I do say so myself.
I will get to posting her birth story soon. I don't want it to fade from my memory.
We had a rough day Friday after our trip to the pediatrician for our checkup. Baby girl was born at 6 pounds 7 ounces (a peanut, I know). Friday, at three days old, she weighed in at 5 pounds 9 ounces. I felt so bad. I thought she was nursing so well. She is a great latcher but apparently a very ineffective sucker. We thought she was so content and doing well because she would nurse well and sleep great. The doctor said she was probably getting weak and that was complicating her feeding and it was a bad cycle. They thought maybe it would be ok because my milk was just coming in so they had me feed her (which was when they saw that she doesn't suck properly) and then reweighed her and her weight didn't change at all.
Our pediatrician's office is great in terms of lactation support. The doctor herself is a certified LC (fairly newly though) and they have a LC on staff that you can see who has been doing it for over 30 years. So they know their stuff. They told us to start a three-hour cycle. I am to try to nurse her for up to 20 minutes. Then hubby or anyone besides me is to feed her 2 ounces of formula from a bottle while I pump for 15 minutes. They were hoping we can get her weight and strength up and my supply going which will make it easier for her to nurse.
I cried all the way home. I saw my plans of breastfeeding flying out the window. It all felt so overwhelming. And I felt terrible for being responsible for her weight loss.
Hubby and I headed off to a store to rent a pump and accessories. It was, strangely enough, run by a man who somehow really seems to know what he is talking about. He looked at me weirdly when I explained why I was there and what the doctor had said. Then he said, "No offense but pediatricians don't know what they're talking about with breastfeeding." I told him that she was a certified LC yadda yadda and he said "Oh! Must be Dr. So-and-so. She's great. Ok, now I believe it." I have heard that so many times about this doctor which makes me feel really good.
The feeding cycle plan has been rough. I thought maybe if I could get my supply going it would all work out. But I have been pumping every two to three hours since Friday and I can barely get a total of 0.4 ounces each time. I should be getting at least an ounce and even that would be low. And poor baby can still latch but I can tell she is getting frustrated with the nursing since she is probably getting nothing. I wish we didn't have to deal with all this. I thought things were going so well the first two days.
I have been reading up on PCOS affecting milk supply. Apparently it is a more serious problem than I thought. I had heard of it before but thought that since I am not a "typical" PCOS patient that it wouldn't apply to me. Interestingly enough, my blaming PCOS for my small breasts all this time has probably been accurate and it is now affecting my ability to make milk. La Leche League had a very informative article about PCOS and low milk supply. At the end of the article there was a paragraph about how LLL leaders can support women who are going through this and I just cried reading it because they were describing everything I feel so accurately. I feel doubly punished by PCOS for needing help to get pregnant and now possibly not being able to breastfeed. I feel grief over losing something I wanted to do. I was so happy when I thought it was going well. I would look down at her while she fed and just feel so happy thinking I was doing something good for her and that I was bonding with her. It felt amazing to feed her and now that may be gone. I, of course, feel guilty knowing I can't give her "what's best". And if I can't, I didn't even have a choice in the matter.
I know that formula will not hurt her. I know that I am not a bad mother. I'm just pissed. It's just another way my body has failed me in allowing me to experience the "normal" and amazing things that a woman's body should be capable of.
There have been a lot of tears the past few days.
On the bright side, we have a beautiful daughter that I could not love more. She is so precious and adorable and I just stare at her and want to do the very best for her. Hubby and I did a damn fine job if I do say so myself.
I will get to posting her birth story soon. I don't want it to fade from my memory.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Our Baby Girl
Just a quick note to let you all know...
I went into labor at about 12 AM on Monday night/Tuesday morning. Baby Girl was born at 10:23 AM on Tuesday. We are all doing wonderfully and she is perfect.
We are at home now and I will write more when hubby and I are not so exhausted.
I went into labor at about 12 AM on Monday night/Tuesday morning. Baby Girl was born at 10:23 AM on Tuesday. We are all doing wonderfully and she is perfect.
We are at home now and I will write more when hubby and I are not so exhausted.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Hubby and Me Part Four: TTC For Real Take Two
After the miscarriage we waited the two months as instructed. When it was time I was eager to get the show back on the road. I actually got my period right around the two month mark. Unfortunately I realized that hubby would be out of town during the target ovulation time. He is NEVER out of town without me. Except that time.
So we had to wait and of course AF wouldn't come again. So in June I got some progesterone to get things going and planned to follow with 50 mg of Clomid on CD 3-7 as before. But this time around CD 1 was a bit ambiguous. I started spotting for two days and proceeded to start the clomid on CD 3. Then AF disappeared for a few days and then reappeared like a normal period. I was confused and when I was checked by u/s for a follicle there wasn't one. The same thing repeated in July. And August. After the u/s in September showed no follicle I barely got out of the office before I started bawling. I couldn't figure out why this had worked so well the first time and now was a complete failure. I started freaking out about the next step.
My OB was very confused because my monthly blood check for ovulation kept showing hormone levels that made no sense for any point in a cycle. Basically, my hormones were all effed up. As my clinic considers ANY spotting as CD 1, I just couldn't figure out when to start the Clomid each month. I became increasingly frustrated and worried. Each trip to the clinic was so frustrating and I just didn't know what to do. And we all know OBs can only help so much. They are not fertility specialists. All I wanted was a chance and I couldn't get that.
Then my OB went on maternity leave (wonderful, right?) and I started seeing a nurse practitioner that I also really liked. She seemed very knowledgeable. She had a bit of a different approach and wasn't going to do an u/s again until we could confirm ovulation with a blood test. We also talked about going on b/c for three months to try to "reset" my hormones. I hated the idea of waiting but considered it. I also thought about just moving right on to an RE. But the idea of injectables freaked me out. I was almost more comfortable thinking about IVF. I was so afraid of the idea of having a whole bunch of follicles and ending up with multiples.
At this point hubby had his analysis too. Everything was in the normal range except his count. Which at 234 million/mL was almost four times the normal level. If this man couldn't get me knocked up, nobody could. I decided to give it two more tries before moving on to an RE. October or November would be it. My clinic was starting to suggest that too since they don't like to do Clomid too long.
So this time around the NP bumped up the Clomid to 100 mg for October. I was still to do CD 3-7. AF was brought on by progesterone and true to form it was all wonky. I decided to modify the plan without telling anyone. I figured maybe I should disregard the pre-spotting weirdness and go with the full on flow as CD 1. That way CD 3 would be about CD 6 or so counting from spotting. My very first clinic had done CD 5-9 so I figured maybe this would work either way. I went with it. I went in for the routine blood work on CD 21 knowing full well I hadn't ovulated on CD 14 as they would expect. This time I was not only using OPK strips but also charting my temp.
But I kept testing and charting, knowing it could be a 35 day cycle, and one or two days after the blood work I got a positive OPK. I always tested twice a day. Once at lunch and once in the evening. On my lunch break I peed on the thing, put the cap back on, put in back in the wrapper and put it in my purse. I drove to a sandwich place for lunch and when I got there I took it back out of the wrapper. And there was a beautiful dark test line. I think I cried. Oh, here's the old post about it! Ah, what a beautiful sight it was. The timing wasn't ideal because it was parent-teacher conference time for hubby. He always comes home from conferences tired and crabby. He got home that night and I said in the sweetest voice possible, "Honey, I know you're probably tired but my test was positive today." He was just as excited as I was and didn't complain one bit!
So a nurse had called to say that my CD 20 blood work showed no ovulation and we were going to up the clomid to 150 mg for the next cycle. I didn't want to do that since I was pretty sure the 100 mg had worked. Here is a lovely post about my "discussion" with the nurse over that one!
I tried not to get too excited. I had the positive OPK and the temp chart looked good too. I anxiously awaited CD 35. I think I first tested on 8 dpo. I knew it was probably a waste but we were going to the state fair the next day so I thought I'd avoid the rides if anything showed up (as though it would really matter that early). Didn't see anything. The next day at the fair my mom noted that I peed a hundred times. Didn't think anything of it.
I tested again on 11 dpo. I thought I saw the faintest, lightest, most beautiful second line. I tried not to hyperventilate. I tried to deny it. I had always assumed the first time I ovulated after the miscarriage couldn't possibly result in another pregnancy. I was not that lucky. I texted hubby and told him about the faint, light line. I went to work. I worked all day, trying not to think about it. On the way home from work I picked up a digital test. I told myself it might not be as sensitive as the other one. Don't freak out if it is negative. It is still early to be testing.
I peed on the stick and stared at the blinking hour glass wait symbol. Then the result showed up. I kept searching for the word "Not" but all I could see was "Pregnant". I honestly don't even remember how I reacted. I can't remember telling hubby or how he reacted. I know we hugged. It was surreal.
We had just signed the papers on our new house the day before. We were making plans with my parents to paint all weekend. They were actually coming to our house that night for some reason. I told hubby that obviously we were going to have to tell them right away because I wouldn't be able to paint. They came over and I handed mom the stick. She just stared at it and kept asking what it was. When she finally got it she screamed (she is very loud) and grabbed me and started crying. She tried for 6 years with fertility treatments to have me so this was all too familiar to her.
My NP offered an early ultrasound because of the previous loss. Bless her, she knew how worried I was. At 7w3d we made our way to the clinic. I was terrified. I knew there had to be a heartbeat at this point. As soon as the tech found the baby I saw it. That fabulous blinking of the heart. I started sobbing. Uncontrollably. The tech had to keep asking me to try and stop moving my tummy so she could finish. It was the most relief I have ever felt.
But as those of you who have been reading for the long haul know, I worried a lot. The naivete of a first pregnancy was gone. I was so fearful something would go wrong. First it was a miscarriage. Then it was an incompetent cervix. I had no reason to trust my body. It could not even ovulate properly on its own. But here we are at almost 38 weeks. I can't lie, I still worry. I know two people who lost their babies at 38 weeks and my own mother-in-law lost her first at birth to cord strangulation. But I know the odds are with us at this point. I can only keep praying that Baby Girl and I will be safe and healthy.
I really have to thank all of you for reading and following. Especially those of you who have been around for so long. I love all of your comments and even though they are here on my blog I still can't erase the copies in my email. They all mean so much to me. Hubby is adamantly against me posting the baby's name or pics on my blog, which I understand. But if those of you who are followers would like, I am planning to put together an email announcement if you would like to see. I will include her name and a picture so if you are interested let me know and provide your email address. Y'all deserve something for sticking with me and my blog all this time! And holy cow, this post got long too. Sorry!
16 days until due date!
So we had to wait and of course AF wouldn't come again. So in June I got some progesterone to get things going and planned to follow with 50 mg of Clomid on CD 3-7 as before. But this time around CD 1 was a bit ambiguous. I started spotting for two days and proceeded to start the clomid on CD 3. Then AF disappeared for a few days and then reappeared like a normal period. I was confused and when I was checked by u/s for a follicle there wasn't one. The same thing repeated in July. And August. After the u/s in September showed no follicle I barely got out of the office before I started bawling. I couldn't figure out why this had worked so well the first time and now was a complete failure. I started freaking out about the next step.
My OB was very confused because my monthly blood check for ovulation kept showing hormone levels that made no sense for any point in a cycle. Basically, my hormones were all effed up. As my clinic considers ANY spotting as CD 1, I just couldn't figure out when to start the Clomid each month. I became increasingly frustrated and worried. Each trip to the clinic was so frustrating and I just didn't know what to do. And we all know OBs can only help so much. They are not fertility specialists. All I wanted was a chance and I couldn't get that.
Then my OB went on maternity leave (wonderful, right?) and I started seeing a nurse practitioner that I also really liked. She seemed very knowledgeable. She had a bit of a different approach and wasn't going to do an u/s again until we could confirm ovulation with a blood test. We also talked about going on b/c for three months to try to "reset" my hormones. I hated the idea of waiting but considered it. I also thought about just moving right on to an RE. But the idea of injectables freaked me out. I was almost more comfortable thinking about IVF. I was so afraid of the idea of having a whole bunch of follicles and ending up with multiples.
At this point hubby had his analysis too. Everything was in the normal range except his count. Which at 234 million/mL was almost four times the normal level. If this man couldn't get me knocked up, nobody could. I decided to give it two more tries before moving on to an RE. October or November would be it. My clinic was starting to suggest that too since they don't like to do Clomid too long.
So this time around the NP bumped up the Clomid to 100 mg for October. I was still to do CD 3-7. AF was brought on by progesterone and true to form it was all wonky. I decided to modify the plan without telling anyone. I figured maybe I should disregard the pre-spotting weirdness and go with the full on flow as CD 1. That way CD 3 would be about CD 6 or so counting from spotting. My very first clinic had done CD 5-9 so I figured maybe this would work either way. I went with it. I went in for the routine blood work on CD 21 knowing full well I hadn't ovulated on CD 14 as they would expect. This time I was not only using OPK strips but also charting my temp.
But I kept testing and charting, knowing it could be a 35 day cycle, and one or two days after the blood work I got a positive OPK. I always tested twice a day. Once at lunch and once in the evening. On my lunch break I peed on the thing, put the cap back on, put in back in the wrapper and put it in my purse. I drove to a sandwich place for lunch and when I got there I took it back out of the wrapper. And there was a beautiful dark test line. I think I cried. Oh, here's the old post about it! Ah, what a beautiful sight it was. The timing wasn't ideal because it was parent-teacher conference time for hubby. He always comes home from conferences tired and crabby. He got home that night and I said in the sweetest voice possible, "Honey, I know you're probably tired but my test was positive today." He was just as excited as I was and didn't complain one bit!
So a nurse had called to say that my CD 20 blood work showed no ovulation and we were going to up the clomid to 150 mg for the next cycle. I didn't want to do that since I was pretty sure the 100 mg had worked. Here is a lovely post about my "discussion" with the nurse over that one!
I tried not to get too excited. I had the positive OPK and the temp chart looked good too. I anxiously awaited CD 35. I think I first tested on 8 dpo. I knew it was probably a waste but we were going to the state fair the next day so I thought I'd avoid the rides if anything showed up (as though it would really matter that early). Didn't see anything. The next day at the fair my mom noted that I peed a hundred times. Didn't think anything of it.
I tested again on 11 dpo. I thought I saw the faintest, lightest, most beautiful second line. I tried not to hyperventilate. I tried to deny it. I had always assumed the first time I ovulated after the miscarriage couldn't possibly result in another pregnancy. I was not that lucky. I texted hubby and told him about the faint, light line. I went to work. I worked all day, trying not to think about it. On the way home from work I picked up a digital test. I told myself it might not be as sensitive as the other one. Don't freak out if it is negative. It is still early to be testing.
I peed on the stick and stared at the blinking hour glass wait symbol. Then the result showed up. I kept searching for the word "Not" but all I could see was "Pregnant". I honestly don't even remember how I reacted. I can't remember telling hubby or how he reacted. I know we hugged. It was surreal.
We had just signed the papers on our new house the day before. We were making plans with my parents to paint all weekend. They were actually coming to our house that night for some reason. I told hubby that obviously we were going to have to tell them right away because I wouldn't be able to paint. They came over and I handed mom the stick. She just stared at it and kept asking what it was. When she finally got it she screamed (she is very loud) and grabbed me and started crying. She tried for 6 years with fertility treatments to have me so this was all too familiar to her.
My NP offered an early ultrasound because of the previous loss. Bless her, she knew how worried I was. At 7w3d we made our way to the clinic. I was terrified. I knew there had to be a heartbeat at this point. As soon as the tech found the baby I saw it. That fabulous blinking of the heart. I started sobbing. Uncontrollably. The tech had to keep asking me to try and stop moving my tummy so she could finish. It was the most relief I have ever felt.
But as those of you who have been reading for the long haul know, I worried a lot. The naivete of a first pregnancy was gone. I was so fearful something would go wrong. First it was a miscarriage. Then it was an incompetent cervix. I had no reason to trust my body. It could not even ovulate properly on its own. But here we are at almost 38 weeks. I can't lie, I still worry. I know two people who lost their babies at 38 weeks and my own mother-in-law lost her first at birth to cord strangulation. But I know the odds are with us at this point. I can only keep praying that Baby Girl and I will be safe and healthy.
I really have to thank all of you for reading and following. Especially those of you who have been around for so long. I love all of your comments and even though they are here on my blog I still can't erase the copies in my email. They all mean so much to me. Hubby is adamantly against me posting the baby's name or pics on my blog, which I understand. But if those of you who are followers would like, I am planning to put together an email announcement if you would like to see. I will include her name and a picture so if you are interested let me know and provide your email address. Y'all deserve something for sticking with me and my blog all this time! And holy cow, this post got long too. Sorry!
16 days until due date!
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Labor Watch 2010
Sorry for that long last post. Maybe it was a bit overwhelming in length. I've been meaning to wrap up the series but I've been distracted. We celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary on Sunday so we did some fun stuff out and about this weekend even though the temps were close to 110F. Yuck. But we had fun. And then yesterday I thought I was going into labor. On Sunday I lost my mucus plug. Then yesterday I felt crampy all day, like menstrual cramps. Then, well let's just say that problem women have with going #2 during pregnancy became NOT a problem for me. Several times. I know that can be a sign that labor is near. In any case, it was a welcome change. Then I started having contractions about every 10-15 minutes for two hours. As soon as hubby and I got home from running a few errands I sat down and wanted to start monitoring them. I wrote down 7:09. Then I didn't have another one until 7:50. Damn. And then they were done. Sigh. I was so pumped to get it going! Oh well, I guess it is definitely approaching and she will come when she is good and ready. I've had quite a few contractions today too but I'm not sure if they're still BH or not. They are more uncomfortable than BHs have been in the past. I'm sure I'll know when they're really real!
So I'm at about 37.5 weeks with 17 days to go until my due date. It sounds so close and yet so far at the same time! There are just a few things to finish up in the nursery so I am afraid she will refuse to come until it is completely done. My mom is painting a picture for the nursery so I told her to hurry! I will post pics of the finished nursery when we get there. So far I love it! And I will try to wrap up my series posts tomorrow.
So I'm at about 37.5 weeks with 17 days to go until my due date. It sounds so close and yet so far at the same time! There are just a few things to finish up in the nursery so I am afraid she will refuse to come until it is completely done. My mom is painting a picture for the nursery so I told her to hurry! I will post pics of the finished nursery when we get there. So far I love it! And I will try to wrap up my series posts tomorrow.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Hubby and Me Part Three: TTC For Real Take One
Ok, so there we were back in the Phoenix area. Actually, we were living in Phoenix proper. When we first moved back we chose an apartment there because it was very close to my work (5 minute commute) and at the time hubby hadn't secured a job yet. Plus we could get a six month lease and bring our two dogs.
It really was quite a not-so-great neighborhood. In fact, hubby met me at work today for lunch so we were back in the old neighborhood. We were laughing at some of our misadventures there. Constantly being asked for money by homeless people wherever we went, the 24/7 guard complete with bullet proof vest at the grocery store, the helicopter search for a suspect who shot at police right outside our complex, needing to use "The Club" on both our cars at the apartment (don't laugh, they are actually very effective at preventing theft)... And who can forget the two times (or was it three?) our apartment flooded during our six month stay. We were laughing so hard because despite all that we were so much happier than we had been previously in our nice rental home in a great neighborhood in the Tucson area. Ok, none of this is really relevant to our TTC except that I think sometimes you don't realize just how unhappy a situation is making you until you move on to something better. I now look back and realize it was a blessing in disguise that TTC hadn't worked out so far.
Even though we had no idea if my job would become permanent after six months, we decided to take the plunge and start trying. I hate to sound cliche but if you wait for the "perfect" time, it's never going to happen. Before we had decided to return to Phoenix we had planned to move back home to MN, even into my parents house if need be, if we had no other options. We knew this would always be an option. A good option? Hell no! But it was something and we certainly weren't the only people with uncertain job situations.
So after being at my new job for about four months I told my new OB at my annual exam in November that I wanted to start trying and that I needed help since I almost never get my period. Her plan was to have me stop taking birth control (which I had just started up again) and try on my own the first month. They would run tests and if nothing happened we would get going on Clomid. Not surprisingly, nothing happened and by the time that was confirmed, all the test results were back, and the holidays had passed it was late January of 2009.
My supervisor at work had decided to take a job in Boston and that made it infinitely easier for me to get my job converted to full time through the company rather than working through the temp agency. Woohoo! A non-temp job with benefits was to start February 1st! And our 6 month lease in ghetto-town was up so we rented a great house in a nearby suburb in a great neighborhood! This was a much better situation to bring a child into so we were feeling great.
The plan was to take Clomid on CD 3-7, do an u/s on CD 12 or 13 and trigger with hcg if there was a suitable follicle. I took progesterone to jump start a cycle and lo and behold, on CD 12 there was a beautiful big follicle! Triggered as planned and then, well, you know.
My clinic considers any spotting at all CD 1 so when I had spotting on CD-I-can't-even-remember I was bummed but ready to try again. So I ordered up some more Clomid. My fatal mistake (no pun intended because it's really not funny) was to not take a pregnancy test. On my second day of Clomid, supposedly CD 4, not only did I not have a full blown period but I had only spotted for those two days. Uh oh, I thought. I took a pregnancy test. I then yelled, "Hubby, why is this pregnancy test positive?!" Panic sets in. Dr Google tells me that Clomid is a Category X drug for pregnancy. Category X. Shit.
The OB clinic got me in for a beta which was good at 600-something. The dr told me that embryos are very well protected from things the mother takes in that early in pregnancy so the Clomid was probably no big deal. They scheduled an u/s.
I let myself believe I was pregnant the day before the u/s. We were excited in the u/s room. It was a Monday and I was 5 weeks 5 days. The tech saw nothing. Nada. No baby, no fetal pole, no sac. She told me that there should have been something at that point. I lied to myself. I said it was possible we were wrong about how far along I was. I had a damn ultrasound and triggered, we knew exactly how far along I should have been. They scheduled another u/s for that Thursday. Because there was a chance it was ectopic, I was instructed to go to the ER at any sign of blood. On Wednesday the TP turned pink and we headed to the hospital at about 1:30 pm. I knew what it meant but I just hoped it wasn't ectopic. By about 10:30 pm I had been wanded, diagnosed with a "threatened miscarriage" (still nothing on u/s and a lower beta), given a Rhogam shot in the butt (I have a negative blood type), and sent on my way. I got home and went to the bathroom where I discovered the heaviest blood flow I had ever experienced. And, oh, the cramping. At exactly 6 weeks it was over.
Of course we bawled for a couple of days and were very sad. Hubby's coworkers sent really nice cards and emails. They knew because he had left work almost in tears to take me to the hospital. My coworkers didn't know. They assumed I had the flu. After a while I picked myself up and dusted myself off. I had gotten pregnant and dammit I would do it again. I had done what a scared 19 year old me had feared might never be possible after my PCOS diagnosis.
I was told by the doctors I would need to wait two months before I could try again. They made me come in what felt like a million times while my beta slowly dropped. The last time it was at 2 and she told me to come once more. I told her no thanks, I was done.
I will always wonder if that damn Clomid caused the whole thing. My rational brain tells me that because we saw absolutely nothing on the u/s and because I already had spotting when I took it, that baby was probably not developing normally anyway. But I will always think about it.
Next time, TTC For Real Take Two. We got pregnant on the first cycle. This will be easy, right? Right?
It really was quite a not-so-great neighborhood. In fact, hubby met me at work today for lunch so we were back in the old neighborhood. We were laughing at some of our misadventures there. Constantly being asked for money by homeless people wherever we went, the 24/7 guard complete with bullet proof vest at the grocery store, the helicopter search for a suspect who shot at police right outside our complex, needing to use "The Club" on both our cars at the apartment (don't laugh, they are actually very effective at preventing theft)... And who can forget the two times (or was it three?) our apartment flooded during our six month stay. We were laughing so hard because despite all that we were so much happier than we had been previously in our nice rental home in a great neighborhood in the Tucson area. Ok, none of this is really relevant to our TTC except that I think sometimes you don't realize just how unhappy a situation is making you until you move on to something better. I now look back and realize it was a blessing in disguise that TTC hadn't worked out so far.
Even though we had no idea if my job would become permanent after six months, we decided to take the plunge and start trying. I hate to sound cliche but if you wait for the "perfect" time, it's never going to happen. Before we had decided to return to Phoenix we had planned to move back home to MN, even into my parents house if need be, if we had no other options. We knew this would always be an option. A good option? Hell no! But it was something and we certainly weren't the only people with uncertain job situations.
So after being at my new job for about four months I told my new OB at my annual exam in November that I wanted to start trying and that I needed help since I almost never get my period. Her plan was to have me stop taking birth control (which I had just started up again) and try on my own the first month. They would run tests and if nothing happened we would get going on Clomid. Not surprisingly, nothing happened and by the time that was confirmed, all the test results were back, and the holidays had passed it was late January of 2009.
My supervisor at work had decided to take a job in Boston and that made it infinitely easier for me to get my job converted to full time through the company rather than working through the temp agency. Woohoo! A non-temp job with benefits was to start February 1st! And our 6 month lease in ghetto-town was up so we rented a great house in a nearby suburb in a great neighborhood! This was a much better situation to bring a child into so we were feeling great.
The plan was to take Clomid on CD 3-7, do an u/s on CD 12 or 13 and trigger with hcg if there was a suitable follicle. I took progesterone to jump start a cycle and lo and behold, on CD 12 there was a beautiful big follicle! Triggered as planned and then, well, you know.
My clinic considers any spotting at all CD 1 so when I had spotting on CD-I-can't-even-remember I was bummed but ready to try again. So I ordered up some more Clomid. My fatal mistake (no pun intended because it's really not funny) was to not take a pregnancy test. On my second day of Clomid, supposedly CD 4, not only did I not have a full blown period but I had only spotted for those two days. Uh oh, I thought. I took a pregnancy test. I then yelled, "Hubby, why is this pregnancy test positive?!" Panic sets in. Dr Google tells me that Clomid is a Category X drug for pregnancy. Category X. Shit.
The OB clinic got me in for a beta which was good at 600-something. The dr told me that embryos are very well protected from things the mother takes in that early in pregnancy so the Clomid was probably no big deal. They scheduled an u/s.
I let myself believe I was pregnant the day before the u/s. We were excited in the u/s room. It was a Monday and I was 5 weeks 5 days. The tech saw nothing. Nada. No baby, no fetal pole, no sac. She told me that there should have been something at that point. I lied to myself. I said it was possible we were wrong about how far along I was. I had a damn ultrasound and triggered, we knew exactly how far along I should have been. They scheduled another u/s for that Thursday. Because there was a chance it was ectopic, I was instructed to go to the ER at any sign of blood. On Wednesday the TP turned pink and we headed to the hospital at about 1:30 pm. I knew what it meant but I just hoped it wasn't ectopic. By about 10:30 pm I had been wanded, diagnosed with a "threatened miscarriage" (still nothing on u/s and a lower beta), given a Rhogam shot in the butt (I have a negative blood type), and sent on my way. I got home and went to the bathroom where I discovered the heaviest blood flow I had ever experienced. And, oh, the cramping. At exactly 6 weeks it was over.
Of course we bawled for a couple of days and were very sad. Hubby's coworkers sent really nice cards and emails. They knew because he had left work almost in tears to take me to the hospital. My coworkers didn't know. They assumed I had the flu. After a while I picked myself up and dusted myself off. I had gotten pregnant and dammit I would do it again. I had done what a scared 19 year old me had feared might never be possible after my PCOS diagnosis.
I was told by the doctors I would need to wait two months before I could try again. They made me come in what felt like a million times while my beta slowly dropped. The last time it was at 2 and she told me to come once more. I told her no thanks, I was done.
I will always wonder if that damn Clomid caused the whole thing. My rational brain tells me that because we saw absolutely nothing on the u/s and because I already had spotting when I took it, that baby was probably not developing normally anyway. But I will always think about it.
Next time, TTC For Real Take Two. We got pregnant on the first cycle. This will be easy, right? Right?
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Hubby and Me Part Two: TTC Now? How 'Bout Now?...
When hubby and I were first married I was just starting my 2nd year of grad school (planned to be 5-6 years total) and he got his first teaching job and started that fall. By the end of our first year of marriage we had purchased our first home and our first dog. It was a great time in our lives.
Before we even got married I informed hubby of my PCOS diagnosis and what it might mean for our future family building. He assured me that he was fine with it and however we needed to bring children into our lives, we would do it. So in those early years we didn't talk about the "when" of ttc much. I knew he totally wasn't ready and I had a long haul of school in front of me. But there was always that voice in my head, and once or twice from an actual doctor, that reminded me the longer I waited the more difficult it could be.
When we had been married for 2.5 years we decided to be crazy and start trying. I figured we could handle a kid and grad school. I quit birth control the day after Christmas 2005. But then a few days later we were thrown a curve ball. My PhD advisor called a meeting January 2, 2006. I figured it was your run of the mill "yay rah rah let's all work hard this year" meeting. It was not. He informed us of his tentative plan to leave that university and take a job at another. The problem was that we didn't know where he was going yet. He didn't make the final decision to come to Arizona until April. I remember getting the call on Easter.
We had our "what if" plans in place. We had decided we would move so that I could stay on track to graduate rather than staying and essentially starting over with a new advisor and research project. We had to sell our house and, of course, put our ttc plans on hold.
I was kind of excited and looked at the whole thing as an adventure. We moved here to Arizona in July 2006. At school we got the lab set up and I got to work. I figured I had about 2 years left of school. Then in December 2006 I learned that my advisor was terribly unhappy and planned to leave the university here for one in Utah.
Holy shit dude. I was livid.
I informed him that I was not about to follow him again. I planned to finish by the summer of 2007 when he would be leaving. It almost killed me. Hubby had to leave about a month before I was done to start his teaching job at our next destination. I had to scramble to finish and worked constantly that last month to write my dissertation. I lost about 15 pounds and my hair started falling out. But I did it. I still wish I had more time to write a thesis I am more proud of but I finished and that was what mattered at that point. Nobody will ever read that thing anyway!
So we moved across the state and I took a post-doctoral appointment since I had no time to apply for an actual job. I figured we would be there about 2 years. We decided to ttc again and in January 2008 I sought help from a highly recommended OB to ttc since I almost never get periods on my own. Long story short, the experience was awful. I did one round of Clomid, probably stopped testing for ovulation too soon, and don't know if I o'd or not. But when I called to say I was not pregnant and needed another round, as instructed, he never called back. I started leaving messages with the nurse. She was incredibly rude. Never heard back. Probably left 20 messages with his nurse. Never heard back. Called the front desk to complain. They kept sending me to the nurse's voicemail. To this day I have never heard back. Absolutely inexcusable way to handle a patient currently being treated.
Hubby and I realized we were both incredibly unhappy there because of hating our jobs, hating the town, and other factors. Stopped ttc again. I started applying for jobs. Applied for over 100. Had a few interviews, turned down a couple offers, and finally found the job I have now. I took it even though it was only originally given as a 6-month contract. We made the leap of faith and moved back to the first area we lived in here in Arizona. Hubby got a job back with the district he taught in the first time around. Life was good again. I loved my job and hubby was happy in his new school.
But now with a "temporary" job and an unknown future, what to do about ttc? Stay tuned for the next episode!
Before we even got married I informed hubby of my PCOS diagnosis and what it might mean for our future family building. He assured me that he was fine with it and however we needed to bring children into our lives, we would do it. So in those early years we didn't talk about the "when" of ttc much. I knew he totally wasn't ready and I had a long haul of school in front of me. But there was always that voice in my head, and once or twice from an actual doctor, that reminded me the longer I waited the more difficult it could be.
When we had been married for 2.5 years we decided to be crazy and start trying. I figured we could handle a kid and grad school. I quit birth control the day after Christmas 2005. But then a few days later we were thrown a curve ball. My PhD advisor called a meeting January 2, 2006. I figured it was your run of the mill "yay rah rah let's all work hard this year" meeting. It was not. He informed us of his tentative plan to leave that university and take a job at another. The problem was that we didn't know where he was going yet. He didn't make the final decision to come to Arizona until April. I remember getting the call on Easter.
We had our "what if" plans in place. We had decided we would move so that I could stay on track to graduate rather than staying and essentially starting over with a new advisor and research project. We had to sell our house and, of course, put our ttc plans on hold.
I was kind of excited and looked at the whole thing as an adventure. We moved here to Arizona in July 2006. At school we got the lab set up and I got to work. I figured I had about 2 years left of school. Then in December 2006 I learned that my advisor was terribly unhappy and planned to leave the university here for one in Utah.
Holy shit dude. I was livid.
I informed him that I was not about to follow him again. I planned to finish by the summer of 2007 when he would be leaving. It almost killed me. Hubby had to leave about a month before I was done to start his teaching job at our next destination. I had to scramble to finish and worked constantly that last month to write my dissertation. I lost about 15 pounds and my hair started falling out. But I did it. I still wish I had more time to write a thesis I am more proud of but I finished and that was what mattered at that point. Nobody will ever read that thing anyway!
So we moved across the state and I took a post-doctoral appointment since I had no time to apply for an actual job. I figured we would be there about 2 years. We decided to ttc again and in January 2008 I sought help from a highly recommended OB to ttc since I almost never get periods on my own. Long story short, the experience was awful. I did one round of Clomid, probably stopped testing for ovulation too soon, and don't know if I o'd or not. But when I called to say I was not pregnant and needed another round, as instructed, he never called back. I started leaving messages with the nurse. She was incredibly rude. Never heard back. Probably left 20 messages with his nurse. Never heard back. Called the front desk to complain. They kept sending me to the nurse's voicemail. To this day I have never heard back. Absolutely inexcusable way to handle a patient currently being treated.
Hubby and I realized we were both incredibly unhappy there because of hating our jobs, hating the town, and other factors. Stopped ttc again. I started applying for jobs. Applied for over 100. Had a few interviews, turned down a couple offers, and finally found the job I have now. I took it even though it was only originally given as a 6-month contract. We made the leap of faith and moved back to the first area we lived in here in Arizona. Hubby got a job back with the district he taught in the first time around. Life was good again. I loved my job and hubby was happy in his new school.
But now with a "temporary" job and an unknown future, what to do about ttc? Stay tuned for the next episode!
Monday, June 21, 2010
Hubby and Me Part One: We Meet, Fall in Love, and Marry
I have been thinking a lot about hubby's and my life together as we are nearing our 7th wedding anniversary this coming Sunday. I've been thinking about how we met and our early relationship, our lives together and our road to this baby girl who is about to arrive. So I thought I'd write a few posts about it. I think I was actually reluctant to admit I was pregnant on this blog until I got sick so I'm not sure I even ever told the story of this pregnancy's beginning...
But anyway, Part One is how we met. :)
During my college freshman orientation I met a girl named Melissa. We quickly became friends. We had an English class together the first quarter. Towards the end of that quarter we discussed the classes we had registered for and discovered we had a history class together. She told me that almost everyone on her dorm floor had signed up for this class so they could study together and that she'd invite me to the study sessions.
The first study session was just me, Melissa, and three other girls from her floor. Apparently once the rest of her floormates got their grades from the first test they decided to show up because the second study session had tons of people. And you guessed it, one of them was my husband. I was instantly attracted to him. He was so cute! I even remember returning to my own dorm and telling my roommate what a cute guy I had "met". In reality, it was less meeting and more just me saying hi to each of the other students. Oh, and also he smoked and I hated that so I just kinda thought "bummer". That was the end of it for awhile.
Early the next school year (sophomore year) it was Labor Day weekend and both of my roommates were out of town. Another friend invited me to a party and I went, which was a little out of character for me since I am a little shy in party situations and didn't have my roommates for moral support. But I went anyway. And hubby was there! We ended up standing next to each other and started talking. He remembered me as "Melissa's friend" so I reintroduced myself and we spent some time talking. I don't remember anything we said but I remember smiling a lot and the butterflies in my stomach!
After the party I thought about him a lot and started running into him on campus. Also, I started "arranging" ways to run into him. One morning I discovered that he parked in the parking lot right behind my on-campus apartment. We both had classes first thing in the morning so if I waited to leave for class until I saw him coming up the sidewalk we could walk together for a ways! Sure, you call me a stalker but he used to go back to the mail building even if he already had his mail if he saw me headed there. So HA, we were stalking each other. :)
After about a month of our mutual stalking, my roommate began dating one of his best friends. She hadn't known who this guy I liked was until she met him through her new boyfriend. OH CRAP I just knew she would tell him and I'd be mortified. She did tell her boyfriend about it and allegedly all he did was encourage hubby to ask me out after hubby expressed an interest.
And so he asked me out in October of 1999 and the rest, as they say, is history. I had gone on dates with several guys before this but nothing that lasted or was a real relationship. I think this made me a little more hesitant than him to really commit to a full-on long-term thing. I didn't want to marry the first guy I actually had a relationship with. But in the end I couldn't deny that he was just "the one", plain and simple. We ended up getting engaged towards the end of senior year and got married the following summer on June 27th, 2003. I couldn't be happier and I love him more now than ever before.
Enough mushy stuff. The funny part was that when Melissa found out that hubby had asked me out she actually warned me about him. She told me that he was great, but kinda known for dating a lot of girls but not sticking with one for more than a week or two. I thanked her for that but wasn't worried. Clearly, he just hadn't met the right girl yet! Despite the warning, Melissa is still one of our very good friends!
And, in case you were wondering, I made hubby quit smoking before we moved in together. I simply told him that we could get married but he couldn't live with me if he smoked. And it worked.
Next up, ummm, not sure. I'll have to think about what to write tomorrow!
But anyway, Part One is how we met. :)
During my college freshman orientation I met a girl named Melissa. We quickly became friends. We had an English class together the first quarter. Towards the end of that quarter we discussed the classes we had registered for and discovered we had a history class together. She told me that almost everyone on her dorm floor had signed up for this class so they could study together and that she'd invite me to the study sessions.
The first study session was just me, Melissa, and three other girls from her floor. Apparently once the rest of her floormates got their grades from the first test they decided to show up because the second study session had tons of people. And you guessed it, one of them was my husband. I was instantly attracted to him. He was so cute! I even remember returning to my own dorm and telling my roommate what a cute guy I had "met". In reality, it was less meeting and more just me saying hi to each of the other students. Oh, and also he smoked and I hated that so I just kinda thought "bummer". That was the end of it for awhile.
Early the next school year (sophomore year) it was Labor Day weekend and both of my roommates were out of town. Another friend invited me to a party and I went, which was a little out of character for me since I am a little shy in party situations and didn't have my roommates for moral support. But I went anyway. And hubby was there! We ended up standing next to each other and started talking. He remembered me as "Melissa's friend" so I reintroduced myself and we spent some time talking. I don't remember anything we said but I remember smiling a lot and the butterflies in my stomach!
After the party I thought about him a lot and started running into him on campus. Also, I started "arranging" ways to run into him. One morning I discovered that he parked in the parking lot right behind my on-campus apartment. We both had classes first thing in the morning so if I waited to leave for class until I saw him coming up the sidewalk we could walk together for a ways! Sure, you call me a stalker but he used to go back to the mail building even if he already had his mail if he saw me headed there. So HA, we were stalking each other. :)
After about a month of our mutual stalking, my roommate began dating one of his best friends. She hadn't known who this guy I liked was until she met him through her new boyfriend. OH CRAP I just knew she would tell him and I'd be mortified. She did tell her boyfriend about it and allegedly all he did was encourage hubby to ask me out after hubby expressed an interest.
And so he asked me out in October of 1999 and the rest, as they say, is history. I had gone on dates with several guys before this but nothing that lasted or was a real relationship. I think this made me a little more hesitant than him to really commit to a full-on long-term thing. I didn't want to marry the first guy I actually had a relationship with. But in the end I couldn't deny that he was just "the one", plain and simple. We ended up getting engaged towards the end of senior year and got married the following summer on June 27th, 2003. I couldn't be happier and I love him more now than ever before.
Enough mushy stuff. The funny part was that when Melissa found out that hubby had asked me out she actually warned me about him. She told me that he was great, but kinda known for dating a lot of girls but not sticking with one for more than a week or two. I thanked her for that but wasn't worried. Clearly, he just hadn't met the right girl yet! Despite the warning, Melissa is still one of our very good friends!
And, in case you were wondering, I made hubby quit smoking before we moved in together. I simply told him that we could get married but he couldn't live with me if he smoked. And it worked.
Next up, ummm, not sure. I'll have to think about what to write tomorrow!
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
A Cute Start to My Day
My cell phone started making some kind of noise at about 5:20 am this morning. It was too early to distinguish the ring tone from the text tone from the alarm tone from the scheduling tone, etc. I picked up the phone and saw that I was receiving a text from my "little" cousin (who is apparently unaware of the 2 hour time difference between MN and AZ). She recently turned 18 and is graduating from high school. It ended up being hilarious, maybe only to me, but I thought I'd share anyway. I'll present it to you with interjections of my groggy thoughts in italics:
Cell phone: Beep beep beep.
Me: What the?
Text from cousin: I just got some stuff from fifth grade back. You were my most admired person.
My text: What?!
Text from cousin: I'm at our senior breakfast and my fifth grade teacher brought a whole bunch of stuff we did in fifth grade and I wrote about you as my most admired person.
Me: That is so sweet! I wonder why she picked me? Hmmm, that was about 7 years ago so I was probably in graduate school. At that point I was the only person ever in our family to get a college degree. Maybe that's why...
My text: That is so sweet! What did you admire about me?
Text from cousin: I have no idea.
Me: (uncontrollable fits of laughter which wake up hubby and require an explanation)
My text: Thanks a lot. I guess I was not so worthy of your admiration. ;)
I love it. "I have no idea." I've been giggling about it all day.
Cell phone: Beep beep beep.
Me: What the?
Text from cousin: I just got some stuff from fifth grade back. You were my most admired person.
My text: What?!
Text from cousin: I'm at our senior breakfast and my fifth grade teacher brought a whole bunch of stuff we did in fifth grade and I wrote about you as my most admired person.
Me: That is so sweet! I wonder why she picked me? Hmmm, that was about 7 years ago so I was probably in graduate school. At that point I was the only person ever in our family to get a college degree. Maybe that's why...
My text: That is so sweet! What did you admire about me?
Text from cousin: I have no idea.
Me: (uncontrollable fits of laughter which wake up hubby and require an explanation)
My text: Thanks a lot. I guess I was not so worthy of your admiration. ;)
I love it. "I have no idea." I've been giggling about it all day.
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