Invisible Mother

After one day of feeling happy and excited about our decision to try again in Jan, I am officially wigging out. I think part of what did it was telling Ms. Bird. Now it seems so much more official. I suddenly feel a lot of pressure.

It's hard to write about this, because I know that so many of my readers struggle to get pregnant in the first place, but I really don't know how I'll react if we don't conceive our first cycle of trying. So far, we've conceived whenever we've been even a little sloppy about b/c, so if we don't conceive, I'll be surprised. I feel like there is a lot of pressure to properly "try" this time, instead of just ditching b/c and seeing what happens, like we did before, because we're not the only ones involved. Now my acupuncturist knows we're going to TTC. She needs to know to give me the right treatment, but it makes it less private and, for me at least, increases the pressure I feel to make sure we do everything we can to succeed from our side.

(Please don't hate me for conceiving so easily. Please. I know most of you are probably somewhat jealous, and I can deal with that, but please don't hate me!)

Anyway, I'm also wigging out about having to learn how to shoot myself up with Love.nox. Because much as I love Dr. R., I am pretty disappointed that he didn't instruct me in how to do this. He told me to just go on You Tube and watch some videos. I did that this morning, and it freaked me out even more. I hate needles. I'm getting better with them with acupuncture and having several blood draws this fall, but I am not looking forward to self-injections.

I'm planning to go over to my pharmacy and ask the pharmacist about who could teach me how to do this. One thing I'm really worried about is that, because I'm fairly thin, I don't have much of a sub-cue layer to work with, and I'm afraid the needle will go in too far and I'll end up doing a intra-muscular instead of sub-cue. (again, please don't hate me. It's not like I work at it. In fact I have to work to gain weight, but that's another story . . . )

Hello paranoia and anxiety. I'm going to get to be real cozy with you over the next few months. ;-p Luckily, Circle+Bloom is still helping me relax, especially at night, so I'm still sleeping okay. Knock on wood.

I had my second visit with Dr. Black today. It went well. Mostly just an intake-type visit, but at the end we had a few minutes to discuss the anxiety I've been going through over when to try again. The Mister and I have agreed that trying in January makes sense, and neither of us see enough benefit in waiting until March to justify that many more weeks of preconception worry. The thing that has been bothering me the most, is actually pretty silly. Ms. Bird said that in her ideal world, she'd want me to wait until March.

When I told Dr. Black that, she asked, "Who's life is it?" It was a good question. It reminded me that it's my life, and my decision. She also asked me how much difference I thought two more months of Chinese herbs would really make--how much I'd blame them if I had another miscarriage. I realized that I thing there is a small chance that they might make or break my chances of a healthy pregnancy, and a much bigger chance that a third miscarriage will mean there is something going on that we haven't tested for yet. I'm already planning to go in for immunological testing if I miscarry again. I will also probably give whatever herb Ms. Bird prescribes the full 3 months. But right now, I doubt that the herbs are a make-or-break proposition. Ms. Bird even said as much, herself, at my last appointment with her.

So here we go . . . gearing up for TTC next cycle . . . Scared and excited. Nervous. Dr. Black said "Cautiously optimistic" but that sounds too innocuous for how I feel. Anxious would be my word of choice--anxious to try again, and anxious about what might go wrong when we do.

The Mister and I took a two night mini-vacation over Christmas. We went to a local B&B--the one where we stayed on our wedding night--and enjoyed a couple of days out of our normal territory.

One of the best parts, for me, was having a break from cooking. After my second miscarriage, I have progressively put myself on more and more strict diets. If I go into the details, you will probably wonder what I do eat, so I'll spare us all the confusion of trying to explain. The simple version is that eating out means going off my diet. There are no restaurants that serve the kind of food I cook for myself at home. But for the past two days, I gave myself full permission to enjoy whatever I wanted. I did my best to minimize my transgressions, but I didn't sweat it. It may not have been good for my digestive system, but boy was it good for my psyche. I really needed that break!

It was also I really good chance to re-connect as a couple, on many levels. Of course there was the physical level of things. ;-) But we also deepened our communication and emotional connection. This weekend was the first time The Mister actually voiced his fear about trying again, and the hurt he sometimes feels, seeing other people's children. It made a world of difference to hear him express those feelings. He's been saying, "I'm in your corner," for months, but hearing him say he's scared of what might happen when we try again, and that he sometimes feels bad when he sees other people's children, helped me believe that we really are in this together. It gave my psyche an amazing boost. For so long, it's seemed as if I was walking this road of pain alone. This weekend, when The Mister showed me some of his pain, somehow it made my pain seem more bearable. Somehow, knowing that he is also emotionally effected by this whole process, makes it seem like we are sharing a joint burden, which makes the burden somehow lighter.

Even if your world is falling apart. That's the message from the original version of this song. The "cheered-up" version is more popular, but I like the original. To me, it speaks of finding something to enjoy, even during the most troubled times, and the hope that we will meet our loved ones again someday. I don't know if I believe in heaven, but I do believe that each person has an eternal soul, and that we can be reunited in spirit, someday, somehow.

(I couldn't embed the version I wanted to use. This one has gives the song some context, but it is also somewhat dark, so you might want to stop it as soon as the song is over.)




I'll be off-line for a couple of days. You are all in my thoughts. Have as merry a Christmas as you can. Or just find a way to muddle through somehow until things get better. Things have to get better sometime, don't they?

I'm going back and forth a lot in my mind on what my plans are. Right now I'm back to the TTC in January plan again. One thing I realized is that, even with a few months of therapy, the lead up to TTC is still going to be fraught with anxiety. Since I have had two miscarriages, I will be worried about what can go wrong no matter how much I am doing to prevent another one. Even if I wait the 3 months it will take for the Chinese herbs I'm using to be optimally effective, and even if they do create measurable changes in my cycle, I will still be anxious about what can go wrong. I can't get away from worry, and the longer I put off TTC, the more time I have to fret.

Right now, I'm feeling like it's time to get back on that horse. If I wait for the prefect time to get pregnant, I could be waiting forever, because there probably is no perfect time. What I need to look for is a time that will be "good enough" and January will probably be a "good enough" time to try again. I've covered most of my basis by using both western and eastern medicine, but I'll never be able to cover them all. What am I waiting for, a sign from God?

I decided to move forward with the therapist I saw yesterday (I was calling her Therapist A). From now on I'll refer to her as Dr. Black (she was dressed in black). She was very professional, and I felt comfortable crying in front of her. Also, she focused on what was important to me, and didn't try to insert her own opinions or tell me her personal story. I think that she will be able to help me, at least to function somewhat better, even though she was very clear that the feelings I am experiencing are a normal part of grief and can't be changed overnight or forced to heal faster. It really helped to have someone say that. It's as if she gave me permission to go on grieving, even though it's been 7 months since my second miscarriage.

But despite how helpful she was, and how glad I am to have chosen someone to work with, I still feel alone. I don't know anyone outside my family who has experienced RPL without any other infertility. And unfortunately, I'm not close enough to my relatives who have gone through RPL to lean on them for support.

Even if it's normal for me to still be grieving 7 months after my second miscarriage, is it normal for me to be so afraid to try again? I sometimes almost wish I didn't conceive so easily, so we would have some impetus to at least start trying. If we didn't conceive so easily, I'd be wanting to give myself as many chances as possible to get pregnant soon. As it is, though, I am afraid actually to try, because I am fairly certain that I will conceive as soon as we ditch birth control. If it turns out my meds and acupuncture and herbs aren't enough to keep me pregnant I'll have to go through another loss. It's as if I've fallen off the TTC horse, but because conceiving again will probably be easy, I don't have a reason get right back on--in fact, waiting looks like a plus, biologically--but the anxiety is getting worse with time.

To me, TTC doesn't mean a potential pregnancy, it means a probably 3rd loss. How do I get past that and learn to trust my body again? How can I believe that the medication will work, when the only test is to get pregnant and see what happens? How will I cope if I have another miscarriage, when I'm already falling apart at the seams?

More than anything, I want to be pregnant and give birth to DH's and my biological child, but what if my body really is too broken to ever carry a pregnancy to term? What if I get through the first trimester, only to develop placental problems or preeclampsia later on? I know too much now about what can go wrong, and I know that it can happen to me. I really hope the therapist can help me deal with this anxiety so it doesn't paralyze me.

Disclaimer: This post is one long shameless plug. I am not on the payroll of Circle+Bloom, I promise, I'm just really impressed with their products and customer service so far!

I've been hearing a lot about Circle+Bloom on various blogs lately, so I decided to check it out. I'm quite glad I did. I discovered that they have two PCOS programs, on for fertility and one for general health. Since we're not yet actually TTC, I decided to order both, so I could use the general program now and start on the fertility one as soon as we decide to TTC. (They don't advertise this, but if you order more than one program at once, you get a discount. Surprise bonus! ;-) I'm holding off on the pregnancy program because they may be updating it with more tracks soon . . . )

Almost as soon as I downloaded the two programs, I noticed something odd--the tracks in the general program had the same names as the special tracks in the fertility program. When I went on-line to e-mail C+B about this, I found an e-mail from the founder, Joanne, saying that the PCOS general program really is just the five special sessions from the fertility program and offering me a refund or exchange. Wow! Talk about customer service. I was quite impressed. I took the exchange for the Energy for Empowerment program, since it's tracks sounded like they would be a very helpful addition, and address some of my other issues beyond PCOS.

Then I started listening to the programs and was even more impressed. The scripts are specific enough that it is easy to follow along, but universal enough that I can form my own mental images of whatever is being described. I was especially excited about the sleep session in the Energy program, since I tend towards sleeplessness when I'm under emotional stress. It's great. It has me fast a sleep within about 5 minutes. (The admonition at the beginning of the track to try to stay awake is quite amusing. How am I supposed to stay awake when I am lying down, in the dark, after a long day, and someone's voice is guiding me into a state of deep relaxation? I guess I'll find out what the rest of the session is like the next time I have insomnia . . . )

My current plan is to use four of the special PCOS sessions and 3 of the Energy sessions on a rotating basis, one session a day for a week, then start at the beginning again. I'm planning to listen to these session in the late afternoon, so I'll be awake enough to actually benefit from them, then use the sleep session to put myself to sleep at night. Hopefully this way I won't memorize the sessions too quickly, and also I will be able to address multiple issues on a cyclical basis. I'm going to wait on the actual cycle day sessions until we are TTC, because I don't think I could handle picturing the beginning of a pregnancy when we're not actually trying . . .

All in all, I am pleased and impressed, and even if these programs offer me nothing more than a daily opportunity to rest and tune in with my body, they will have been worth the money. If they can also minimize my anxiety and improve my chances of carrying to term, so much the better!

The past week has brought innumerable complications. Life has become so convoluted. Well, planning to TTC again has anyway . . . Here is the blow-by-blow:


The acupuncturist wanted to do a hormone panel with 7dpo progesterone and cd3 labs before prescribing herbs. Now, after a month of treatment, she's ready to prescribe the herbs, and I find out that she wants me to be taking them for 2-3 months before we start TTC again (3 months in an ideal world). Here I was thinking we were gearing up for TTC in January, because then I'd have had 2 months of meds and acupuncture. I didn't realize the herbs were so important.

At first, I was disappointed. I wanted to be pg again by Valentines Day. I never memorized the due dates from my first two pregnancies, but with the second, I had it in my mind that we would have a baby by Valentines Day. Because of that, I don't think I can handle the stress of being actively TTC in February this year. So that would mean pushing things back to March.

My first reaction to that was "NO! I don't want to wait that long!!!!" But the next day, I noticed that I was feeling better. Less stressed. The acupuncturist had done an emotional treatment, but I don't think that was the main issue. I guess I'm really not ready to face the stress of TTC, getting pregnant, and worrying about another miscarriage just yet. I'm actually relieved that I'll have a few more months to prepare . . .

I've talked to all four therapists now (For the moment, we'll call them A, B, C, & D). I met with therapist D yesterday. I meet with Therapist A on Monday. The other two (B & C) aren't taking on new clients at the moment. Therapist D has her office in the same place where my midwife meets with clients. Not good. Personality-wise, experience-wise, it would have been a good fit, but in that location? No thanks. I don't want to have to pass rooms full of bellies and babies on my way to and from RPL therapy. Therapist D was sensitive to this issue and offered to collaborate with therapist A (assuming I like her) if I need some of therapist D's special skills. This sounds like a good, if complicated arrangement. Therapist A was sympathetic on the phone, and I like her so far. Also, she is in-network--a major bonus. So now I just have to meet her and hope she is okay with collaborating with therapist D, should I need it. Like I said, it sounds like a win-win, but still, it's complicated!


Now for the most confusing bit. I asked Dr. R. about betas, and told him I wanted to go ahead and start Love.nox and progesterone each cycle. Here is what he said:

would use 30 mg of lovenox every month starting on the day of the iui and would start the progesterone twice a day starting 2 days after the iui. would stop it if not pregnant.

yes, we always check the hcg in the beginning of pregnancies.

Sounds good, except the Love.nox that he prescribed for me to have on hand is 40mg and I'm not doing IUI's! (Bangs head against wall.) Sometimes e-mail conversations are so frustrating! So back I go with another e-mail and more questions.

I also noticed that my Fol.gard script will run out of refills before March, so if we wait that long to start TTC, I'll have to get that script updated. Which may mean another long trip to his office, probably through traffic. Unless he can call the script in without me having to go there . . .


I think I know what you veterans out there will say, "Welcome to the club." I know my situation is probably far less complicated than most of yours. But that doesn't change the fact that it is far more complicated than I ever anticipated getting pregnant would be. (I always thought the staying pregnant part would just take care of itself--miscarriage won't happen to me and all that lovely, ignorant denial.) Ignorance was bliss . . .

First of all, these are so different from doctors' visits. Despite having to go to a resource center intended for fertile people, it didn't end up being too stressful. Of course, due to all the emotional turmoil I've been in, I was a wreck at home beforehand, but once the visit started, things were fine, and I remembered all the reasons why I chose this midwife in the first place.

I kept my sunglasses on while I walked past the receptionist, and settled myself into the back room where my midwife meets with her clients. It's a nice, cozy room with a couch and easy chairs, very homey. I brought my mp3 player, but forgot an extra battery (I blame my nerves), so I only got to listen to one song before it died. I also didn't have time to pack my knitting, so I read a book instead. I only waited a few minutes for the midwife to arrive.

I had spent some hours over the weekend preparing a summary of all the tests I'd had done, their results, what it all means, and how I'm being treated, so that she could see it all at a glance and on one page. I also brought a copy of all my lab reports. The summery was very useful for discussing what is wrong with me and the current and future treatment plans. My midwife was able to get a clear picture of what I am at risk for, and say that, as long as I don't develop Pre-E or placental problems, I should be low enough risk for a home birth. We agreed that it will probably be a good idea for me to see both her and Dr. R. throughout my pregnancy, because I expect to continue to need at least some prescription meds as well as close monitoring. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that my midwife has heard of Dr. R., and all good things at that. She thinks there is a good chance he will support my plans for a home birth. Wow!

I'm not sure what to think. For the past few months, I've been preparing myself for the idea that a hospital birth will be inevitable, and now it seems I still have a chance at a home birth. I don't have to make a firm decision any time soon--my midwife said that she'd want me to decide by 36 weeks, which gives me plenty of time to get my emotions in order and figure out what I want and where I will feel safest giving birth. My midwife has had other clients with previous miscarriages, and it willing to provide extra support if I need reassurance.

I'm also really glad I asked my midwife to leave her baby with someone else. She was happy to support me in that way, and it did make it much easier for me to focus on our discussion. She was glad that I asked, as it hadn't occurred to her.

Remember that appointment I was stressing about in this post? Well, with a bit of help from my readers and my DH, I composed the following e-mail:

Dear Midwife,

I have a couple of requests regarding my appointment with you on Monday. I feel very awkward about asking this, because I don't want to cause difficulties for you, but due to my recent miscarriages, I'm finding it difficult at times to be around new mothers and their babies. Is your baby still coming to appointments with you, or does someone now look after her? I'm asking because it will be much easier for me to focus on discussing my diagnosis and options with you if someone else is looking after her during our appointment, and I'm hoping that it's not too late for you to arrange that.

Also, do you still have someone welcoming clients when they come for  appointments? If you do, it would be really helpful if you could ask them to allow me some quiet time instead of engaging me in conversation while I'm waiting for my appointment.

 She got back to me right away saying that she did have someone who could watch the baby & that, since I am her first client of they day, I can simply arrive early and wait for her in the room where she meets with her clients. I am so relieved. Sometimes asking for what I want really does work. I'm planning to bring my MP3 player and my knitting--it's always soothing for me to have something to do with my hands.

Now if I could just make myself as well understood to the people who run the Music Docent program I'm supposed to be volunteering for understand what I want! When I asked to be reassigned to a new classroom, it just got more people involved, trying to make the classroom I'm already assigned to work. The problem is, much as I appreciate their good intentions, I want direct communication with the classroom teacher, not more go-betweens! Ugh. Yet another exercise in tact for the tactless . . .

It's like a ton of bricks. Yes, after a few days (weeks?) of feeling okay and thinking things were better, I'm back down that rabbit hole. What's worse, in some ways, is that it's manifesting as bouts of anger. I've always had a temper, but now it's flaring violently, uncontrollably, and unexpectedly. I seem to have no warning. One minute, I'm coping fine, and then suddenly I discover that I'm so full of rage that it has to have a physical outlet. I've suddenly reverted to toddler-esque tantrums. I thought I'd outgrown this level of unthinking destructiveness, but apparently not . . .

These raging spells scare me so much that, after six and a half months of trying to get through grief on my own and with peer support, I think it's finally time to look for some professional help. What brought me to that conclusion was the damage I did with my most recent tantrum. In a fit of thoughtless, impotent rage at yet another circumstance that is out of my control, I managed to physically break my laptop hard drive. The rest of the computer appears to be fine, and a new drive won't cost too much, but the data . . . I haven't backed-up in two years. My DH spent several hours yesterday, trying in vain to access my hard drive. Nothing. (Please don't lecture me about backing things up--I've learned my lesson the hard way . . . ) He now recommends I try the Geek Squad . . .

I can't believe what I've done--that I could be that far out of control. I knew I shouldn't pound on the computer, and I don't know why knowing that wasn't enough for me to stop myself from doing it. Now, I am afraid of what I might do next time. I need some better skills for dealing with my anger, and some safer outlets for my emotions so they don't get pent up and then explode.

I'm starting to get really scared of myself. What else am I capable of destroying? So far the rage is not physically directed at myself or my husband, but what else will I break? And what kind of emotional and psychological damage is my anger doing to our relationship?

I've tried all the conventional suggestions of punching a pillow, heavy yard/garden work, other physical exercise, but when I get angry in a particular way, I have this huge urge to destroy something. I've been thinking for some time of getting some cheep pottery or dishes that I can smash when I get in these moods. Now I think I'd better, so I won't destroy something else I care about. It's just that, after the anger cools, depression sets in, and I have no motivation or energy to act on that prudent idea.

Since I cooled off from my most recent rampage, and I realized the damage I'd done, I've been deeper in grief and despair than I've been in what seems like a long time. It really sucks to be here, and still have to deal with the world. Time marches on. Obligations and responsibilities don't go away. Somehow, I still have to struggle through.

The one thing that is clear to me is that I need help. I need more and better tools for dealing with my emotions. I need an outlet for my grief, my anger, my disappointment. I'm beginning to look into local psychologists and therapists, but it seems so daunting, and when I'm already so drained from all these emotions, I don't see how I can begin. I'm sure I will find a way. All I know is, I need to do it soon. I've put this off as long as I dare--I need to get some help.

Thanks everyone for your support and suggestions on my last post. I especially appreciate the suggestions on how to tactfully present my situation ahead of time, and be obviously unavailable while waiting. The ipod idea is a good one. :-) I think I will be able to work with the situation without too much trauma. I'm in a much better place lately when it comes to being around pregnant and new moms. I still feel twinges of envy and bitterness, but it's better than even a month or two ago. Still, even if things are better, I don't really want to engage in baby-talk. I used to to this all the time, before my miscarriages, but now, unless the mom also went through some kind of pregnancy loss or IF or something it just doesn't feel comfortable anymore . . . So I don't go there.

Even though I'm in a better place, emotionally, these days, I still have bad days, and they can hit suddenly, with the force of a train wreck. I was thinking about it today, after another emotional explosion occurred, and I realized that I am resisting admitting any negative feelings. Now that I remember what happiness is like, I don't want to let go of it. So when something tweaks me a little, I try to brush it off and ignore it. Then what ends up happening is that the little tweak gets buried with other little tweaks until eventually they all explode. It's really hard to admit to myself that I am still so emotionally sensitive. My skin was never thick, but since my miscarriages, it's been almost non-existent. I want to be happy, and sometimes I am, but when I try to hold onto that happiness, it can get me in trouble later. I think I need to learn to notice and deal with the things that bother me when they happen. That means I need to feel those hurt or angry or bitter feelings, when they get triggered. Otherwise, I explode, and the explosions are toxic for everyone, including me.

On a different note, I'm going to get the Circle and Bloom PCOS fertility program for when we do start TTC again. I'm really looking forward to it, and I hope it will lower my anxiety levels. I'm also thinking of getting the pregnancy program, although I'm disappointed that it only has three tracks. I'm thinking of suggesting that they make a more detailed program, especially for pregnancy after loss/IF with a focus on reliving anxiety and visualizing the baby's development on a weekly, bi-monthly, or monthly basis (instead of a general visualization for each trimester). I'd be willing to pay more for a more detailed program. What do you all think? If you were to get a pregnancy relaxation program would you want it to be less expensive with fewer tracks or would you be willing to pay more for a more detailed program with more tracks?

I had a few really good days this week. Nothing special, just that everything was going well. My vitamin D and iron and omegas seemed to be having a good effect on my energy and my mood. So I got busy and got a lot done and enjoyed myself. It was great.

Then I crashed. Huge amounts of anger and irritation started pouring out of me, mostly directed at my poor, patient husband. It was totally unfair on my part, and I knew it, but I couldn't find a constructive way to get rid of all that energy. This morning, it woke me up at 3:30 am and turned into serious anxiety. Over a really small detail. It kept me awake for over an hour (unusual for me). Finally, it occurred to me that I have some soothing music on my mp3 player I could turn on, and that bought me some calm and a little more rest before I needed to get up for the day.

What had me so stressed was this: I have an appointment with my midwife in about 10 days to discuss my test results etc. The problem is that the midwife has her office in a "family resource center" where all the blissfully ignorant mama's and moms-to-be go. On top of that, both the midwife and her helper/greeter have young babies (about a year old I think) that they keep with them. (I used to be totally in favor of mom's bringing their babies to work with them. It sounded like a great idea until I had to face moms-with-babies-in-tow post miscarriage. Now, I wish babies and kids could be kept in a totally separate part of the world, solely for the benefit of RPL/IF people like me.) To add even more difficulties, this helper/greeter person knows me and will want to chat. So instead of being able to bury myself in knitting or a book while I wait for my appointment, I will have to make small talk with an innocent new mom who has no idea what it's like to go through a miscarriage. Ugh.

I'm trying to figure out how to broach my concerns about this with the midwife ahead of time, and possibly avoid awkwardness, without being overly demanding. Any suggestions? How does one politely say,

Dear Midwife,

Please tell your helper/greeter person to leave me alone and just let me read my book while I'm waiting for my appointment. Oh, and by the way, can you have her watch your baby while I'm talking to you, so I don't have to be reminded of what I don't have the whole time please? Thanks!

Your Needy, Bitter, RPL Client.

And it only took a couple of hours--total. We had everything up and all the packaging put away in one evening. Of course, having a 3 foot tall, artificial tree and not too many ornaments helped . . .

The house now feels festive. I'm not particularly religious, but I love decorating for Christmas--tree, stockings, crèche, Santa, snowmen, candles, lights, etc. I also love all kinds of Christmas music: popular music, old fashioned carols, instrumental music like the Nutcracker, Santa songs, all of it! So I've been playing a lot of music the past few days, too. I still don't break the Thanksgiving barrier at home--no Christmas stuff until after Thanksgiving--but I start on the music and decorations as soon as it's over. :-)

So here are some pics of our efforts:

Sometimes I think that unexpected pregnancy and miscarriage are somehow connected, like two sides of a coin. Both involve unforeseen, life-changing events. Both can be seen as catastrophic. But are they really that similar? Do women who have children as the result of unplanned pregnancies go on to bitterly resent every childless woman in the world? Do they feel intense rage and envy at the sight of a flat, never-been-pregnant belly?

Since my miscarriages, I've realized that no-one can plan reproduction. I don't know anyone who hasn't conceived either sooner or later than they were expecting to, or experienced a miscarriage, or chosen to have an abortion. Even the people I know who appear to have perfectly planned families don't actually have exactly what they wanted and planned for. I can't think of anyone for whom reproduction held no surprises.

But some surprises turn out to hold a lot of joy--along with all the work and effort and changed plans. You may be aware of downsides, but you don't have to look very hard for the joy. Most women who had unplanned pregnancies, or unexpected twins, or got pregnant the first month when they thought it would take them at least 6 months, will tell you that they have no regrets. They love their children. They are human, so they still wonder about might-have-been's, but they are, on the whole, happy and content.

Then there are other surprises. The pregnancy symptoms that go away and are followed by the worst cramps in the history of AF. The two pink lines the lead to bleeding instead of a baby. The abdominal pain that signals an ectopic pregnancy. The diseases that necessitate a "therapeutic termination" to save the mother's life. The babies with medical conditions that are incompatible with life outside the womb. The unexplained stillbirths. SIDS.

And still other surprises. The discovery that going off the pill does not result in two pink lines within one month. The realization that 6 months or a year of trying hasn't worked either. The test results that say someone's reproductive organs aren't working right. The diagnoses begin to come in: premature ovarian faliure, low sprem count, LPD, endometriosis, poor egg quality, PCOS, thrombophilia, immunological issues, etc, etc, ad infinitum.

These categories of surprises leave women and men embittered, disillusioned, green with envy, and exhasted from grief. If there is a silver lining in going through these experiences, we have to dig and search and grasp at straws to find it. We say that it has made us better people. More compassionate. More patient. But has it brought us joy? Are we happy? No. We may have moments of joy, but we are not joyful people. We are bitter, resentful, grieving, desperate women and men who want only to be parents. We know that life is unfair, but we don't accept it. We find ways to cope, but we would not have chosen this life.

If unplanned pregnancy and loss/infertility are two sides of the same coin, it is in the way the joy and suffering are two sides of the same coin. But that doesn't make the two experiences similar or comparable.

Okay, everyone's been doing these gratitude/Thanksgiving posts, and I'm late with mine, but really I love to practice gratitude. I've done gratitude journals in the past and I think they really work. Writing down even 3 things I'm grateful for on a bad day puts me in a better place. So here goes. I'm going to try to come up with 10 things I'm grateful for from the past year:

1. Our honeymoon in New Zealand. We went over Christmas last year and it was great. For one thing, it was nice to not feel obliged to spend time with or call family. Since we were out of the country we could just focus on ourselves. We were in a totally new place, and we didn't know anyone, so we really bonded. And New Zealand is a fabulous country to be in. We stayed in one city and just got to know the local area. It was very relaxing. We didn't over-plan, so we were able to just spend time in our room watching TV when we didn't feel like going out.
2. Joining a Moms-to-Be support group before we started TTC. I thought it would be a good way to prepare for pregnancy, but it has turned out to be an invaluable support for surviving pregnancy loss as well. Also, the leader of the group is the sole reason I was able to get a new patient appoitnment with my RE.
3. My volunteer work at a local educational garden. It gets me out of doors on a regular basis, interacting with like-minded people, and working with the earth and growing things. Plus I get to bring home fresh, organic produce.
4. Attending a KidPower workshop for adults. I was emotionally abused by my peers as a child and attending this workshop was very cathartic. It was a step in starting to realize that I have the right to say "no" and protect myself from emotional as well as physical abuse. I am also learning to avoid potentially triggering situations.
5. Spending time with two friends whose children were all "accidents" before the grief and envy from my miscarriages really kicked in. These people have been important to me in the past, but I have had to distance myself from them over the past months. One probably won't notice, we don't see each other more than once or twice a year anyway, but the other may be offended. She's more needy, and I was distancing myself from her anyway, so I'm trying to let her go.
6. My decision to quit a very "public" volunteer position in my church before we started TTC. I had to avoid the church almost entirely in the early months after my miscarriages. Quitting that position also made it possible for me to consider a position as a Sunday School teacher--this gives me a wonderful opportunity to interact with children without feeling any resentment towards their parents.
7. Deciding to volunteer as a Music Docent. I love music, and even though I am still not teaching in the classroom, I really think that it will end up being a positive experience. In fact, I'm optimistic enough that I got some books out of the library so I can be prepared to go in on short notice as soon as the teacher contacts me with some possible times.
8. My cousin who gave me the family history of miscarriage and her emotional support when I called. Her information was very helpful when it came to getting a diagnosis from my RE.
9. Finding a good team of professionals who will support me through all the aspects of preparing to try again--medical, physical, emotional.
10. Finally, last but most important, I am grateful for my dear husband. He is my hero and my greatest support. He has seen me through so many challenges over the past year, and he has stood firm through all of them. I know that I would not be as balanced and happy as I am today without his emotional, and financial, support. He is an amazing man and I am lucky and blessed to be married to him.

Whew. I made it to ten. I'm sure there are more. Other wonderful friends and family and helping professionals. Other enjoyable experiences, like going to the beach and to baseball games. But I'll leave it at that. Those are probably the key things. Well there is one more. I'm grateful for Astin and Ember. Not so much for the miscarriages as for how they touched my lives and what I have learned about myself and the world because of their brief time with me.

Yesterday, I had an absolutely wonderful afternoon at the beach with Astin and Ember. Yes, they were there with me, in spirit. I love going to the beach, and since my miscarriages, DH and I have gone a few times. It's always healing and revitalizing. Yesterday morning, I just had this sudden hankering to go to the beach, and so, despite dire predictions of rain and wind, I went that very afternoon. (This is unusual for me. I'm a planner, and I'm virtually never that spontaneous. Deciding to drive 45 minutes each way to spend a couple of hours on the beach the day I do it is unheard of in my world.)

The other thing I knew I wanted to do was to have some sort of ceremony of letting go. So I bought white spray roses at the grocery store and took two of the flower heads with me--sending the rest home with DH. I also brought a small bag of white rice. I started my ceremony by dropping a single petal into a channel of water running from a small creek into the ocean. I walked along side it for several minutes while the petal made its way down stream. As I walked, I thought about how the petal's journey was a metaphor for grief. At first it moves slowly, sometimes pausing along the edge of the channel. The speed is inconsistent, and there are obstacles it has to go around to avoid getting hung up on. There were other people walking up the channel as I was following my petal, and this represented how those of us who are grieving still have to interact with a world that is not grieving. Eventually, the current grew faster and there were some small rapids, where I lost sight of my petal. I thought this was a metaphor, too, of how, eventually my grief will no longer be overwhelming, but will be absorbed into the current of the stream of my life.

After the petal was gone, I went to the edge of the waves. The tide was out, and the beach there is very flat, so the waves came up the sand a long way, very shallow. There was also a wide variation between the highest point the waves came to and the lower points where they sometimes ended. I spent maybe half an hour with the waves, moving forward as they pulled back and backing up as they came in, dropping in petals and rice with nearly every wave. Each time, I tried to drop a petal from each rose, and a little rice. I thought about Astin and Ember and letting go as I did this. I also thought about heartache, and how much I miss them, and how much I resent mothers with living babies. I tried to let all that go, too.

At some point, it began to sprinkle. Just a drop here and there--so few you really could walk between them. Just for a few minutes. The sun was below the clouds, and the cloud that was raining was just over the beach. It was a really beautiful moment. After a timeless time of dropping petals and moving with the movement of the ocean, I found that I was down to the final few petals on each flower, the tightly furled inner petals that surround the stamens, and I decided to through these inner buds into the stream. I threw them in just below the rapids where the first petal had gotten lost, and watched them flow down and get swept into an incoming wave.

The last thing I did was to find a short, fat piece of drift wood, and drift it down the stream, from the place where I had started the first petal, all the way down to the waves. I nearly lost track of it in the rapids, too, but it was big enough, and buoyant enough, that I found it again and watched it into the ocean.

Then I was done with that part of my ceremony, but I felt the need to walk, so I walked down the beach for some time. Eventually, I found a nice place to sit and just watch the waves. There were surfers out in the water, a ways down, but I chose a place where I could just see the waves. I watched the whole picture of the ocean, especially the place where the waves break off shore, before they roll in. The way the light was, I could see the spray rising up as the waves curled over themselves. It was beautiful and very soothing. I sat there, watching the waves, and slowly became aware that the sun was setting. I watched it slowly sink towards the water, dipping in and out behind the small clouds that dotted the sky.

The golden rays of the sun shone out from behind the white clouds, painting their edges in gold leaf, illuminating the still-blue sky, and reflecting off the water. I took only one picture, with my camera phone, but even that was too much of a distraction, so I stopped trying to capture the moment, and simply savored it. I tried to use non-focused awareness to stay present and enjoy every detail. A young mother and her friend came out to pose with a 3 or 4 month old baby, and, although I felt an ache in my heart seeing them, I stopped trying not to see them, because the more I tried to pretend they weren't there, the more aware I became of them. So I simply accepted that the were there, and let it go at that. I was even able to forget their presence for moments on end as I watched the sun sink lower and lower.

Eventually, when it was time to go, I walked to the water's edge and wrote in the very wet sand, "Good bye Astin & Ember I (heart) U." Just as I finished, a wave came up and washed away my words and I let them go. I will never forget Astin and Ember, I just felt that it was time to let go of them, and try to focus on living my life now, on moving forward with my current life, instead of wishing for a life that never could have been.

I know now that I did nothing wrong when I was pregnant this spring. There is very little chance that anything short of medical assistance would have allowed me to maintain either of those pregnancies. And I needed to go through the pain of miscarriage in order to change my worldview enough to be willing to accept that medical assistance. That, I believe, is what Astin and Ember came to Earth to teach me. I still love them. I will always remember them. And, for now, I still need to mostly avoid other mothers and their babies. But I am slowly learning to let my resentment go. It doesn't serve me, and it won't bring back my babies. So I am trying to accept my life the way it is and be thankful for the blessings I have.

Here, now, is the one picture I did take. It shows the composition of the sunset--where the clouds were and all, but it doesn't do justice to its sheer beauty and gloriousness.


(And no, I won't enlarge it--it was taken on a camera phone, after all, and the resolution is pretty bad. You can click on it if you really want to see it bigger, but I think it looks better small.)

This week has been really busy. My doctor's appointment on Tuesday was brief, but informative. Dr. R. took the time to explain my lab results and what he wanted to prescribe. He answered all my questions clearly and simply. He clarified my diagnosis as polycystic ovaries caused by insulin resistance. When I asked if I had PCOS he said it was, "just a touch." He explained that PCOS is a broad diagnosis, and although I am on the spectrum, I don't have the full blown syndrome. That felt like good news.

I am also relieved that I don't have Factor V Leiden. Dr. R. seems to think the even being homozygous for MTHFR C677T is less serious than being heterozygous for FVL. He said I would only need the Love.nox for the first trimester, and that the Folgard and baby aspirin would prevent another early miscarriage. The Met.formin should help with that, too. I'm not looking forward to having to do self injections, but I certainly think it's worth it for the sake of having a healthy pregnancy.

I'm surprised at just how much I'm willing to do to stay pregnant next time. A year ago, I was the kind of person who avoided western doctors and treated everything I could at home. Now here I am taking 4 prescription meds, plus several over-the-counter meds and supplements! I hardly recognize myself!


My initial visit with my acupuncturist was on Wednesday and it went really well, too. She confirmed that Dr. R's prescriptions and recommendations were on target for my diagnoses. She also suggested adding one more supplement--fish oil (EPA/DHA combo). She's going to add some herbs at some point, as well, but she wants me to get used to all the new meds/supplements first. She basically said that my diet is already pretty good, and just needs a little tweaking, which was nice to hear. The acupuncture itself turned out to be quite soothing. She was very responsive to my reactions. There were some points she skipped or adjusted because I found them too uncomfortable. But for the most part, once the needles were in, they didn't bother me. I'm looking forward to having weekly visits for the next few months.


Yesterday, I spend the afternoon with an acquaintance whom I've known for about 3 years. She has a 3 year old daughter, but before that pregnancy, she had an early miscarriage. It turns out we had a lot to talk about, and it felt really good to talk with someone who has had a similar experience. We both really enjoyed our visit, and plan to get together more in the future. We even live on the same block. I think we have a chance of becoming good friends. It's really nice to have the support of someone who had "been there" in real life.

Saw Dr. R (my RE) yesterday to go over blood work. Good news is I don't have FVL. Not so good news, I'm homozygous for MTHFR C677T, and I have low iron and low vit. D. So now off to get more drugs: iron, vit. D3, folgard, and baby aspirin to start now, and heparin and progesterone for once I get a BFP. Seeing the acupuncturist for my initial visit later today. Now off to volunteer at the farm--hopefully before most of the mommies and kiddos arrive.

That's what today was. Just a really bitter day. For no good reason. And I took way too much of it out on DH. Poor guy, but he was wonderfully patient with my outbursts. Finally I figured out that it wasn't him. It was me. For some reason, so many little things just hit me hard today.

First, it was seeing lots and lots of babies at the Farmer's Market. I guess some people might think I'm a martyr for going to a Farmer's Market nearly every weekend, but usually I can handle it and the eggs are so much better than store-bought ones for the price that it's worth seeing a few babies. The fruit is better, too--particularly the avocados. They're always bruised if I buy them at the grocery store, but almost never bruised when I go to a Farmer's Market for them. So, yeah, usually it's worth it, but this morning, I swear, for every childless adult there, there were 3 families with one or more kids and at least half those families had a baby under 2 years old. Thankfully there were no big bellies to be seen. Small blessings.

Then I got home and felt so demotivated that I dragged my feet over making lunch until I was super hungry (again, my own fault). Being hungry always brings out my inner dragon. Today, it was lashing out with worry over my long-term prognosis with insulin resistance and how frustrating it is to already be doing so many things to be healthy and still have this bite me in the butt. Part of the problem was an unsolicited diabetes mailer that showed up a couple days ago. At first, I thought it was kind of serendipitous, and might help me deal with my insulin resistance diagnosis. No such luck. The stories, which were supposed to be so inspiring, just made me feel worse, because they brought up all sorts of new worries that I hadn't heard about. It was just one thing after another: "You mean now I have to worry about heart disease, too? And stroke? And losing my eyesight? That too? Is there anything I'm not at increased risk for???" I finally put the thing out for recycling. I needed to stop feeding the worry fires.

Then, this evening, I got the expected invitation to Family Thanksgiving. We'd already planned not to go this year. We'd decided months ago, even before the miscarriages, that we didn't want to do big holiday parties anymore. Both DH and I are more introverted than extroverted, and neither of us looks forward to the big holiday parties. But getting the message inviting us, and realizing I have to be the one to tell them we're not coming (because they're my relatives), brought up a bunch of guilt. Even though my cousin and his super-fertile wife (who got pregnant faster than she planned the first time, and then had twins the second time and, got her tubes tied because god-forbid-she-ever-have-a-fourth-child) are going to be there with all three kids, I still feel a little guilty about not going. I know it's better if I don't go, though. I don't need to see that family right now. Right now, I would give anything to have three kids, and an intact reproductive system. I really don't think I can be polite to my cousin's wife right now, knowing that she gave up her fertility, when I'd give anything to carry my next pregnancy to term. How am I supposed to be thankful when I'm surrounded by reminders of what I don't have? (I know I have lot's of things to be grateful for, but it will be easier to think of them away from the super-fertile cousins and their kids . . . )

For the first time in my life, I'm wishing I lived closer to the other side of my extended family. That's the side I inherited the insulin resistance from. That's the side that has the FVL and miscarriage issues. I might actually be willing to discuss my fertility with them, even though they are usually so reserved and we usually avoid talking about anything personal. But I'm pretty sure that if I told the relatives who I do live close to about my miscarriages and my diagnosis I'd get all sorts of choice, ignorant "advice". So I'm just not going to go there with these people. At least not yet. Not this year. Maybe not ever. Especially not with the ones who pop out babies so easily . . .

Bitter. Really bitter. End vent. Thanks for "listening".

I just put up the pics of my latest projects--the Baby Afghan, and the tiny Christmas stockings for Astin and Ember. Go over to the projects page and check them out. You have to scroll down to see them--maybe one of these days I'll fix that, so the most recent projects are on top, but I just spent 2-3 hours getting the pics up, so that will have to wait, at least until after I have some lunch!

I've decided to participate in a couple of holiday exchanges this year, in honor of Astin and Ember. The first one I found out about is an ornament swap hosted by Jenni at Demeter's Feet. The second is a gift exchange over at Faces of Loss. Neither are specific to any particular religion or holiday--they are both open to anyone who wants to participate. The one at Faces of Loss is a little more flexible--you can make or buy a gift as long as it costs less than $20. The Ornament Swap is a Secret Santa style exchange of handmade holiday ornaments.

Finding these gift exchanges reminded me of something I wanted to do before Christmas this year--I wanted to make tiny stockings for Astin and Ember. I made them up today. I'll post pics on the projects page, soon. I know it's still quite early, but I'm at a standstill in my afghan project, since I ran out of the color yarn I'm using on the border, and I wanted to knit something. I ended up using some hand spun yarn I got last summer at a tourist spot while visiting family. It's un-dyed wool of varying shades of gray/brown, from a light, almost white, to quite dark. I used two different skeins, but there were still points in the project where you could barely tell the difference between the two "colors". Still, I'm quite happy with the results, as each stocking has far more personality than they would if I'd used store-bought yarn.

In re-reading my last post and thinking about it for a couple of days, I realized  that I have more to say about adoption and ART. First, adoption is still a viable option in my mind. Even with all the drawbacks I mentioned in my previous post, I am completely open to adoption. Also, when I said that it is lower on my list than it was 6 months ago, that doesn't mean it's at the bottom of the list. It's just that 6 months ago, it was at the top of my list of family building options if going au natural didn't work. Some of the reason it moved down this list is due to learning that adopting has drawbacks I didn't see before, but it also has to do with learning more about ART.

What I've learned about ART in the past 6 months is that there are many levels of assisted reproduction. Honestly, up until the past 6 to 9 months the only thing I knew about was IVF. I thought you either managed to get pregnant through BD or you had IVF done. I'd never heard of Clo.mid or IUI or Met.formin or anything else on the pre-IVF spectrum. So I thought that if I couldn't get pregnant on my own, my only choices would be to either spend $$$ on IVF with no guarantees (I knew that it doesn't work every cycle) or spend even more $$$ on adoption with a higher chance of ending up with a baby. (Very naive--I know.)

I also didn't know about the weird, middle road of infertility, where a couple is fertile enough to get pregnant, but not fertile enough to stay pregnant. Honestly, it is one of the most in-between scenarios I can imagine. It's really hard to know where you fit--almost too fertile to be an IFer, but not quite fertile enough to relate to most BLMs. Multiple miscarriages from spontaneous pregnancies seems to me to be the least represented form of infertility. At least, I haven't met many other people, on-line or IRL, who've had multiple miscarriages without also needing help getting pregnant in the first place. So that possibility didn't even occur to me before it happened.

Since my miscarriages, I have learned that there are several levels of ART that women go through before IVF becomes their best/only option. I've also learned that getting pregnant and staying pregnant are two different issues, with some treatments being different and others being the same or similar. For example: I've been diagnosed with polycystic ovaries caused by insulin resistance, but I still ovulate on my own and I don't have the most common outward markers of PCOS. Someone with PCOS might need more help getting pregnant, but she and I would probably both benefit from Met.formin. Another example is clotting disorders. They don't stop you from getting pregnant, but they can cause a host of complications once you are pregnant. However, no matter which complications they experience, women with the same clotting disorder usually have similar treatment regimens.

I've also learned about immunology, and the role it plays in fertility. Sometimes it seems to prevent conception entirely, other times, it causes the mother's body to reject all the babies she does manage to conceive. I'm still researching that area, but I'm becoming more and more convinced that it's worth finding out if my immune system is causing problems. I can't imagine how much I would kick myself if I had another preventable miscarriage, just because I didn't follow through and do the immunology testing before getting pregnant again.

So my ideas about what tests and treatments are worth my while have really changed. Knowledge has played a huge role in my attitude shift. I still consider adoption to be a viable option. If having a full term pregnancy turns out to be very traumatic for me, or if I end up having a condition that leaves me with very few options for being able to carry to term, I would absolutely consider adoption. At this point in my life, I would rather adopt than live child free (though I think that is a valid option for those who choose it, as well). However, since I have learned that there are ways of treating infertility that are less invasive than IVF, and since I still want to know what it is like to be pregnant and give birth, I've mentally moved adoption down from it's former place as my second choice family building option, to somewhere in the middle of the scale. I'm still not sure I'd go as far as to do IUI or IVF. At this point, it doesn't quite make sense to me, since I've already conceived without assistance. But I am willing to take medication, even if it means giving up my dream of a homebirth, so I can at least have a chance at a biological child.

There is one more aspect to my change in perspective and my shift in values, and that is the emotional side of pregnancy loss. But I'll save that for another post--this one is long enough.

This is a subject I have been thinking about for some time, and my opinions have changed as I have learned more about both sides of the story. I consider both to be legitimate ways of family building, and neither to be superior to the other. However, both have their advantages and drawbacks and individual perceptions of these advantages and drawbacks will vary, influencing each couple's decision of how to build their family. This post is about my opinions, past and present, naive and more informed. It is about my current opinions. I might change my mind later. Please bare that in mind as you read, particularly if you found this post in my archives.

As an uninformed young adult, I thought that if my (then future) husband and I had any trouble getting pregnant, we'd adopt. My thinking went something like this: There are so many children in the world who need good homes, why not adopt one of them instead of spending thousands of dollars on invasive medical treatments that might not even work? I also thought I'd be open to adopting an older child. I've always loved kids of any age, and I thought it would be quicker to adopt an older child than an infant. I was so set on home birth that I thought I'd rather adopt than end up with a high-risk pregnancy that required a hospital delivery. Looking back now, I think that I was very naive.

It wasn't until I had two miscarriages and started seriously researching adoption that my thoughts began to change. I learned of the difficulties that often occur in adoptions where the children "older". I learned that there are levels of what is considered "older" in adoptable children. I learned about how the foster care system's focus on reunification can create situations where, by the time parental rights are terminated, the child has so many issues he or she is no longer considered adoptable. I learned that even with infant adoptions, the child will grow up with questions about why he or she was placed for adoption. I learned how these questions can create problems when the adoption is "closed". I learned that "open" adoption is available and generally a positive experience, but that it can have it's challenges as well.

I also learned about all the investigations and paperwork and classes and so forth that are required before an adoption can take place. I learned about homestudies, fire marshal inspections, and background checks, and about age, income and space requirements. I realized that the adoption process is just as invasive as the medical process, only instead of testing and treating your body for fitness for pregnancy, the adoption process tests your lifestyle and evaluates whether you are fit to be parents. I found out that the adoption process is its own emotional roller coaster.

I began to realize that, although it may take less time to adopt an "older" child, that child may have sever issues that the family will continue to deal with indefinitely. I realized that, even in the ideal situation of an open adoption, there will be challenges specific to the child having been adopted, along with all the normal challenges of raising any child. These challenges won't all be parenting challenges. Adoptive parents and their children will have to deal with uninformed people, both strangers and friends/family. They may face prejudice or insensitivity. They will also have to consider the child's birth parents and their desires to stay in touch. Even if this goes completely smoothly, it is something that parents of a biological child don't even have to consider.

As I learned all these things, I began to see some of the attraction of finding a way to have my own biological child. Yes, the process of testing and treatment might be invasive. Yes it would be an emotional roller coaster. Yes it might risk me out of a homebirth. But once my baby was born, many the "extra" challenges would be over. (They probably wouldn't be entirely over. I haven't researched parenting after infertility much yet, but I'm guessing it brings its own challenges . . . ) I would be much like any other biological parent, regardless of how my child was conceived.

So I began to think that maybe, just maybe, the invasive testing and treatment, the possibility of a hospital birth instead of a homebirth, and all the emotional challenges would be worth it to have a child that was mine, biologically. I know that an adopted child would still be mine, but I also began to see the advantages of at least giving ART a try. So here I am, preparing to use the services of a doctor, a midwife, and an acupuncturist to get pregnant and stay pregnant. I may still decide to adopt, if testing turns up an obstacle that I'm not willing to try to surmount. But it's lower on my list of choices than it was 6 months ago. Part of the change is due to more information about the adoption process itself, but a lot of it has to do with learning more about what I want and what I'm willing to sacrifice to make my dreams come true.

I saw the RE everyone has been raving about yesterday, and he is as good as the reviews claim. I'll call him Dr. R. There was a bit of a wait in the office, but once he came in to see us, his full attention was on us (DH came with me). The first things he said when he walked through the door were, "So you've been through a lot, " and "There is definitely something going on here." He went over the relevant points of my labs and my history with me, and then told me what tests he wanted to do. He covered just about everything I wanted to find out about, and more besides. On top of that, he has a great bedside manner. There is no sense of the "God-complex" that so many doctors have. He talks to you in understandable language and explains things without lecturing. He also complimented me on my overall good health and took my knowledge of my own body seriously. He's even familiar with TCOYF! Such a change from the previous RE I saw.

Speaking of the previous RE, turns out he didn't really test me for FVL, so Dr. R. ordered a diagnostic test for that, along with MTHFR, prothrombin gene mutation, chromosomal kereotyping, prolactin, vitamin D, and ferritin. He said my TSH was slightly elevated. He didn't think a full thyroid panel was necessary, but just went ahead and proscribed a low dose of thyroid hormone. We also talked about my family history. Since I have a family history of fibroids on one side and type 2 diabetes, he wanted to do a dildo cam scan to look at my uterus for fibroids (he also wanted to check for a septum) and at my ovaries for cysts. My uterus looked great, but my ovaries had lots of cysts. He called it polycysitc ovaries (PCO's), rather than PCOS, I'm not sure why. He proscribed Met.formin for that, explaining that he suspected insulin resistance as the cause. He felt that testing my insulin levels wasn't necessary, because the levels vary so much that it doesn't always show up. He felt the same about testing for progesterone--that levels vary so much that testing wouldn't give us much information. He also said there are three main causes of LPD: PCO's, endometriosis, and prolactin. He saw the PCO's and ruled out endo on the scan, and he's testing me for prolactin.

He explained how the insulin resistance would cause pretty much my whole pattern of short cycles, copious CF (sorry if TMI), and miscarriages. I don't have a lot of the typical PCOS symptoms, but the way Dr. R described it explained a lot about why my body works the way it does. He is very confident about my chances of having a successful pregnancy, and his confidence is infectious. I feel so relieved to have a diagnosis to hang on to and that it is treatable! Oddly, though, I've been crying a lot since seeing the doctor. I think mostly it's relief and release. When I was driving home, I started crying just thinking about the possibility of seeing a heartbeat at an early ultrasound. I can actually begin to imagine myself pregnant.

Another interesting thing was that it didn't bother me to see pregnant and new moms in Dr. R.'s office, because I know that he's a fertility specialist, so probably a high percentage of them are pregnant after IF or loss and have been in my shoes. Of course I can't tell which ones they are, but I felt less out of place than in the other Dr.'s office, where most of the mothers are blissfully ignorant.

The past week or so has been really odd for me. I've been mostly off-line, with brief check-ins to read blogs. There just hasn't been much to post about. I've been knitting a lot whilst listening to audio books. I was really tired for a few days, but even though that's better, I'm still on a knitting kick. I'm nearly done with the baby blanket I've been making. I promise to post pictures on my projects page, soon.

I'm continuing with my training as a music docent, although my classroom placement isn't working out too well. The teacher doesn't return my e-mails, so I have to contact her through a third person. Not good. Thinking about asking to be reassigned. I really want to get into the classroom and start teaching.

I'm also still volunteering at the local educational garden I may have mentioned. Last Saturday (a week ago) I was there in the rain. The one hour of the day that it rained was the hour I was there. It was dry when I left home, and dry by the time I got back. At least rain where I live is seldom very wet. We call it rain when most people would just call it mist or a drizzle. That's the kind of rain it was last week. Not pouring. I got wet, but not soaked. I dried off and warmed up fine once I got home. The thing that actually bothered me the most was having muddy shoes. I hate the way mud sticks to itself and makes your shoes heavier and heavier.

This week I went before the rain started, and helped turn compost. I love composting. I hope someday I have a big enough yard and garden to have a compost pile of my own. For now, I have worms in a worm bin, which is nice, but not quite the same . . . .

And that's really all for now. I'll have more updates next week. I have two appointments coming--one with an acupuncturist and one with the highly recommended RE I've mentioned before. I'll let you know how they go.

Several people have been posting about this lately, so I thought I'd join the conversation. You can read the posts that inspired me here and here. I found myself making similar comments on both posts, so I thought I'd turn my thoughts into a post.

First, I'll admit that I ask "Why me!!?" a lot. Why did I grow up with the desire for lots of babies (I wanted so many that I planned to start having them as soon as I finished collage), and then not meet my Mr. Right (DH) until I was in my mid 20's? Why do some people who aren't even planning babies get pregnant and carry to term so easily, while I have two back to back miscarriages when I'm (finally) ready to conceive and prepared to raise a child? Why would I be given the kind of personality that would make me want to have a home birth like my mom, and then (maybe) end up with some condition that causes miscarriages unless I use a treatment that will risk me out of home birth? In case you haven't picked up on it yet, there are a lot of It's-Not-Fair!'s flying around with the "Why me!!?" stuff.

But when I think about all of this more rationally, sometimes I think I must have needed to learn something from the experience. I try to look for the lesson and learn it. I think experiencing two miscarriages has given me more compassion, and it's harder for me to be quite as judgmental now towards other people as I used to be. I try to accept the life I'm living right now and look for bright spots. And when I feel resentful of parents with living children, I try to remind myself that I don't know their story. I comfort myself with the thought that 1 in 4 women experience at least one miscarriage, and 1 in 8 couples experience infertility. Even though I wouldn't wish my pain on anyone else, it is still comforting to know that I am not actually all that rare, and that there are other women out there who can commiserate.

Nevertheless, I still avoid most moms with living children. My envy and resentment are too close to the surface, and I'm not a masochist. I stick to the few people who know my story and are understanding and supportive.

I also keep looking for answers to why this happened. Biological answers. Ones that involve a concrete, treatable cause of miscarriage. My life is one big question right now. I just don't know why I miscarried two babies. Mostly I am just learning to live with that question in the back of my head. "Why did it happen? Was it a clotting disorder? Immunology? Structural problems? Hormonal imbalance? Something else? Will testing reveal a cause? Will that cause be treatable? Etc. ad infinitum. I'm realizing that life is a lot more uncertain than I ever realized it was. And I'm trying to let go of controlling more than what I do in this moment. I'm trying to allow myself to act with hope for the future and still accept that the future may unfold in unexpected ways.

In terms of faith and God, I believe that there must be a plan for my life that is so big I can't see or understand it from a human perspective. That doesn't stop me from getting really angry at God sometimes. Personally, I think it's normal to be mad at God in situations like this, and that God can probably handle my anger better than if I directed it at myself or another person. So I don't beat myself up if sometimes I'm angry at God.

Do you struggle with these kind of questions/issues? And if you do, what has helped you cope with them so far? I'm really interested in how other people deal with these issues. From what I've read in other people's posts and the comments on them, although the emotions/struggles/issues are often similar, coping methods can be very different from one person to the next.

That's what I am right now. Missing In Action. I'm lost. And this post will probably ramble a lot.

Somewhere between relief that FVL isn't my problem and disappointment that now I don't know what to do, I got lost. I forgot that I was going to rule out FVL and then try again, and started down the rabbit hole of finding out if there is something else wrong. It felt like the right place to go. But it's not what I planned. In this journey through grief, and in the process of searching for answers, I continually find myself doing things that I never thought I'd do. I don't know where I'm going any more. Sometimes I don't even know who I am.

I had a consultation visit with an acupuncturist on Saturday. No good. I just don't like her. She was too casual about the possibility of me having another miscarriage. As if it would be both unlikely to happen and no big deal if it did. Even if all the odds are in favor of me having a successful pregnancy, I've already beaten the odds twice. And why did she have to mention the possibility of a third miscarriage? She brought it up several times. She could have worded things differently. It was almost as if, even though she said she expected me to have a successful pregnancy, she really was expecting another miscarriage. Or as if I don't qualify for certain testing/treatment until I've reached the threshold of Three Losses.

Maybe it has something to do with a different acupuncturist I spoke to on the phone on Friday. She was on the side of testing for treatable conditions, to rule them out or treat them, now. And she was very confident that I would carry my next pregnancy to term. It made me feel confident and optimistic to speak to her. Actually, the one I met in person probably has more experience than the one I spoke to on the phone, but I think the experienced one is somewhat jaded or desensitized. I just didn't feel like she was taking me very seriously. I was an "easy" case to her.

I don't want to be an "easy" case. I don't want to be dismissed. I want to carry my next pregnancy to term. And I want support from someone who takes me seriously. I don't think I can cope with another loss. I'm barely coping as it is. I thought I was doing well, and now I have a minor set back that could be seen as a good thing, and I dissolve. All my motivation goes. I have no energy for anything but to sit and knit and listen to audio books. A week ago, I was running around, getting all sorts of things done. Now I just want to sit in my rocking chair like an old lady.

I need to get to bed. I have to be up early tomorrow, and I have a busy day (for me).


P.S. Thanks for all the comments and suggestions on my last post. I really appreciated the support.

I got my test results in the mail today. Everything is normal. The FVL test is in the normal range, as are the protein C and S tests (and all the other bogus, unnecessary tests that the doctor ordered without asking if I wanted/needed them done).

So now I'm thinking, that was a whole lot of hoopla for nothing. I don't have any signs of FVL, or any other clotting disorder that the doctor screened for. So now we are back to square one. What happened in April and May? Will it repeat? What can I do to maximize my chances of staying pregnant next time? And a new question--does this mean home birth might actually be a possibility I want to reconsider? Hmmm.

I'm going to keep my appointment with the second RE (the highly recommended one that was so hard to get in with). I'll ask him if there is anything else I should test for, anything special I should be doing, etc. But I also think I'm going to seriously look at finding an Acupuncturist.

One thing that struck me about reading Coming to Term, was that TLC (i.e. weekly visits with a specialist just to talk about concerns, etc) was effective in helping most women carry to term. (I think the statistic was 85% of the TLC group carried to term, as opposed to 65-75% without TLC.) Of course, this only works if you don't have a diagnosable, treatable condition, and the baby doesn't have any major chromosomal problems.

Since there is no recurrent miscarriage clinic that provides TLC in my area, I figure weekly visits to an Acupuncturist would probably serve a similar purpose, and maybe the actual acupuncture would have a beneficial effect as well . . .

So things keep changing course. I'll let keep you all posted on what comes next.

 Love the word, loved the movie, love it when it really happens. Like this morning. I kicked myself out of the apartment for the day because it is Annual Inspection Day. The manager is coming to basically check-up on my housekeeping. Ugh. Not fun. Plus, she is prone to lecturing over even the smallest of infractions, and I just don't want to be around for it today. My body is failing at carrying a pregnancy, I don't really want to be told that I am a failure as a homemaker as well.

So I was out of the house by 9 am. And because one of the Instructions was to leave the sink empty for inspection, I decided to have breakfast out. So I went to a local coffee shop for eggs and tea. It was packed. I was planning to go on-line and do internet stuff, but something better came my way. Amongst all the other coffee-ers was someone I knew from my Pregnancy and Infant Loss support group. I haven't been to the group in a while, but this mom recognized me and said "Hi". She was meeting another mom from the group--one I hadn't met before, and they invited me to join them. So I got some social, catch-up time with real people. (Not that I don't love all my virtual, bloggity friends;) Which was nice. I doubt I ever would have planned it, but it was still really nice.

Now I'm at Whole Foods. I'm staying away from the house until 5pm, so if they do any repairs, I don't have to be there for that, either. I'll be meeting DH shortly. Today is turning out pretty well . . . 

It's been five months since my second miscarriage. I notice the monthly anniversary of my second loss much more than my first. It's not that I loved Ember more than Astin, or that I had more dreams for her. It's more that her loss signified so much more. I knew that one loss was relatively common and didn't mean much in terms of whether I'd eventually carry to term. The second loss was more significant in that respect. If I'd stayed pregnant with Ember, I wouldn't have started worrying about FVL unless I developed other symptoms. I'd be planning a home birth right now instead of looking for a specialized OB. I'd be nearly 6 months pregnant. And I probably wouldn't ache so much over missing Astin. I might never have even named him if it hadn't been for miscarrying Ember as well. I probably wouldn't be blogging here, anonymously. I'd be blogging publicly under my own name.

This hurts so much. I ache. I am empty. I have some hope, but it is hope for an entirely different future than the one I planned and expected to have. Life isn't just a matter of planning and following the program. The road curves and we get surprised. Sometimes it looks like the road goes on, and it's not until the last minute that we see the detour sign. I feel like I'm sailing in uncharted waters. I don't recognize the stars anymore. Forget about landmarks--there is no land in sight right now.

I miss my babies. I miss the woman I thought I was. I'm trying to find a way to love the person I'm becoming, the life I've been given. How can the death of my babies be a gift? God? Are you out there? What comes next? Can you please give me a sign--show me a hint that my life will have some good in it again someday? Please?

Why do I have to be so painfully aware of what should have been? Will I ever be able to simply enjoy what is? I hope that someday I will find the silver lining in this cloud. Sometimes I get glimpses of it. I am becoming a more compassionate and accepting person, less judgmental, less critical of others. I'm learning that ideals aren't reality, and reality is often messy and complicated. I didn't want it to be this way. But I'm starting to accept that these are my lemons. Now, where did I put my sugar so I can make lemonade?