Doctor Appt and My Always Moment

So today was my follow up appointment with the doctor (Dr. B) to check in about how the anti-depressant is working and talk further about our plans to try to conceive in the future and what testing we would do, since she would have had time to review the hospital reports.

I went in, and again, I was running late. I was doing great until I ended up in a turn only lane by accident and I wasted 10 minutes trying to backtrack on one-way streets through construction. So frustrating, and then to top it off, there was no parking easily available and I was feeling flustered again when I got there.

Fortunately, she was running a bit behind, so it ended up not being a big deal.

When I finally got back to an exam room (I left my book in the car, but figured since I was late, it wasn't necessary. I was wrong.), I talked with a new PA and really enjoyed her. We talked about how the Prestiq is helping and what it had done and how I was processing stuff, about exercise and weight (because wtf? I weighed 10 pounds more on their scale than I did on my scale Monday morning. Granted the clothes/shoes easily added two pounds, because I have in fact weighed myself in those clothes and out of them and yeah, two pounds, and I know it's not uncommon for me to put on 5-6 pounds right before my period starts, but dude.) and then she took my blood pressure. I was feeling very relaxed, but it came back really, really high - 145(ish)over 96. Yikes!

Then I sat and read a poster for NuvaRing seven times and Dr. B came in. I still like her. We talked some about the depression and she is really pleased with the Prestiq and how I was describing my reactions to it and how things have been going. We talked about the blood pressure, which she wasn't happy with (rightfully!) and she's recommending a new internist.

Then we moved on to testing. She originally said that we would not pursue the huge panel of bloodwork, because there were no links between my pregnancy losses that were apparent. After reading over the hospital reports, she has changed her mind. She said the clotting I described and the clot on the placenta make her want to rule out a clotting disorder and there is no reason not to test for it now, since that is usually very treatable, rather than risk another pregnancy by waiting with no good reason. In addition to a multitude of tests to check for possible clotting disorders, she's ordering a karyotyping to check my chromosome locations (my coworker joked that I really might be a freak of nature, lol), and is asking for cholesterol and thyroid tests and also the glucose tolerance test to check for diabetes. Just to identify any possible problems. All together, it's 14 different tests/panels that will have blood drawn for. My poor, poor, poor arms. While they have a lab on location, they gave me the slip so that I can schedule it at a location nearer to me and miss less time from work and not have to drive far after fasting in preparation for the tests.

Those things are all good, but the thing I am most pleased about is that she is willing to schedule the sonohysterogram for this cycle or the next; initially she had said in the New Year. But she is pleased with how I've responded to the anti-depressants and that my cycle has returned to normal, so she said that if the equipment is not booked (there is only one u/s machine in the office that she can do the shg with), then we can do it immediately. I am crossing my fingers that that is the case and we don't have to wait until December.

Speaking of my cycle - I've been a little anxious, but it was textbook for me. Ovulated right on time, normally, with normal cervical fluid (or, actually, less fertile fluid than in times past, which is actually a good thing, as it could be indicative of my hormones being better regulated), and a perfectly normal luteal phase. Twelve days, just like normal. 100% normal. I have never been so happy to get my period ever - I laughed when I told Jason it was a Happy Period!

Back to the tests - if there is scar tissue or some other obstruction, then I'll have to have surgery. If there is a clotting disorder, then it depends on the apparent severity - she said most likely, I'll be doing a treatment of baby aspirin, but if it's more severe, then Lovenex injections. Apart from that, we discussed my care management during pregnancy. We'd already discussed that I would be immediately sent for a beta series and set up for an early u/s, but I asked today what comes next. Immediately, she responded, "An ultrasound roughly every two weeks to monitor development, the placenta and the cervix. We're going to be keeping a very close eye on you." Which is, in fact, what I wanted to hear, and is a relief.

Even more so when she said she would like me to off anti-depressants for the entirety of the first trimester. Prestiq is not recommended in pregnancy, but can be taken in the first and second trimesters. Dr. B prefers to prescribe Zoloft to pregnant and nursing mothers, which is approved for pregnancy, but says the best course is always to be taking nothing. I agree, but also don't know if I can do it; my anxiety with Gabriel was so high and that isn't going to get better now. But the close monitoring is a relief and should ease that somewhat. And I'll be going to see the new therapist regularly throughout that time, so the hope is it will be enough.

Additionally (finally?), I will see a MFM (maternal/fetal medicine specialist - or - high risk doc) at least once during the next pregnancy, and more if there are complications. Dr. B said the bottom line is that even before we know the outcome of the tests, I am high risk because of my history. Period. She will co-manage my care with the MFM. We just have to see who takes my insurance and what hoops will have to be jumped through.

Basically, I am hearing all the right things and I am very happy with the plans for moving forward. I feel confident I will be well taken care of. I hope that means better things, but I also know that it is unlikely that if I had been seeing Dr. B before that things would be different. It is possible, but it is also possible that all the care in the world won't prevent another loss, another tragedy. That's the biggest lesson in all of this - it is all so completely out of my control.

But I am feeling good. Dr. B said that we will take care of whatever pops up from these tests and then we are free to try to conceive whenever we feel ready. So I'd say that we are feeling pretty good right now, even with my happy period.

Chinese Fortune Cookie

"An alien of some sort will be appearing to you shortly!"


Now THAT, friends, is a gotdamn fortune!

Bitterness

Sigh.

It was my own fault. The thread was clearly titled, and I opened it anyway. Inside was a story about a young girl, 11 years old, in fact, who gave birth to her new daughter on her wedding day (she was being married to the 19 year old who impregnated her at the age of 10). She referred to her 'new toy' and talked about how she was dropping out of school because she is a mother now.

I got hot, then cold, then felt tears pressing against my eyes.

What was I feeling in that moment? Anger. At the universe for a shitty exchange in which I lose a child and an eleven year old has a perfect child. At the family of the child who thought the correct thing was to marry off an eleven year old to the man who raped her when she was 10 (even though it sounds consensual, a ten year old is not capable of making that decision). Sadness. That Gabriel is gone, that I don't know if I will ever have a child. That this young girl is now a mother, that this poor child is unlikely to be raised well and supported. Jealousy. Yes, jealousy that this child has a living, healthy daughter and that I have a dead son. Disgust, that I would have even an ouce of jealousy towards this tragic situation. Bitterness about it all.

I do not want to feel that way. I do not choose to be that way.

I do not know how to stop feeling that way. I hate it.

I can direct my actions, I can choose my words, but I can't stop the feelings from rushing over me.

Would that I could.

Happy Halloween

May your evening be filled with candy, costumes and friends and may any visits from the other world be friendly and comforting.

A short note

Goodness, I've got posts swirling around in my head, waiting to come out, spilling out in conversations with friends instead, making me less inclined to turn them out here.

And I'm tired - what a week! SO very glad that it is Friday night. So this will be short (by my own standards, lol).

My mother accused me yesterday of being giggly. Which made me laugh, because I did not feel giggly, I felt exhausted. But it's true, I was chuckling more than usual. I don't quite know what it is, but I have felt lighter the last few days. The cynic in me says it is simply the anti-depressants doing what they do (aren't they supposed to take about a month to really kick in? That's coming up), and worries a bit about how I will be when off them - if they make me happy, does that mean I'll turn into a hot mess again when I go off them?

But I think no - some things may get harder, and of course grief isn't a straight forward process or line, not a GPS that gets you from one location to another. There will be hard days again, likely for years.

But I'm doing ok, you know? I've processed a lot.

And today, I looked at Gabriel's pictures for the first time in weeks. I studied them, head cocked, scrutinizing them, imprinting them again on my memory, though their outlines are well known.

And you know what? I was taken by surprise when I felt my lips curl into a smile. Not the wistful half-smile on my lips the last time I looked at them two? three? weeks ago. No, a full, complete, whole-hearted smile. Nearly a grin. Completely involuntary. I looked at my son, and I felt joy. I heard a laugh on the air around me and the smile became a grin. I looked at Gabe and thought, my heart swelling with maternal pride, "My God, my son is beautiful. My God, how I love him."

And no tears came this time. Just a sense of peace and pride. Just a moment of joy, beholding the beautiful miracle that was the physical embodiment of my son. What a lovely moment.

The Best of Times, The Worst of Times

I should probably save that for a time when it is for reals and not tongue in cheek.

The Worst of Times - my hope for work being more calm this week was excessively hopeful. My goodness, I just feel like we're never ever going to be done with this crap. I had to redo everything I've done over the last two days because of a miscommunication. We're nearly done, but once this is over is a whole new set of frantic scurryings to get reconciliations done on time. Blah. At least the days move quickly - that's good, right? I frequently glance at the clock to realize that two or three hours have passed without my knowing it.

The Best of Times - but for many trials there are consolations. Basketball season has begun my friends, and the Spurs are playing tonight. Our League Pass subscription has been renewed and we are eager to see how the best offseason in recent memorable history pans out. Go Spurs Go!

And . . . that's it. I am so tired it's ridiculous. Between work and fighting off some kind of bug, I am exhausted and definitely looking forward to this coming weekend. I'm sure that being in the luteal phase is contributing too, but the good news is that my cycle seems to be regulating nicely - let's hope that continues for when we are ready to ttc again. We're probably going to take a couple of months with a relaxed whatever approach before going whole hog, but regular is never a bad thing.

Is it Friday yet?!

* ~ * ~ *

ETA:

Holy fuck, that was awesome. Dismantling the Hornets in such a way that that I got to see Theo Ratliff and Keith Boggins close the game is a great fucking start to the season.

Well done, Spurs. It was fantastic to see Manu in good form, Blair is indeed a beast, the defense was great (in that it existed and was active). Jefferson and Dice are fantastic additions and I can't wait to see Tony and Timmy get into better shape. Loved it. And game 2 is up tomorrow, so double the pleasure, double the fun, eh?

Lazy weekend

Yesterday was spent sleeping late and lounging in advance of getting ready to go a wedding. The wedding was lovely in all the important ways - a bride and groom clearly in love, family and friends nearby in support, nice trappings (good food, good weather, lovely flowers, pretty dress) and it was surprisingly fun.

I get quite anxious about large gatherings and the only thing that pushed me out the door in the end was the fact that it's rude to back out on an rsvp like that. But we were glad we went - it was sort of a gathering of the best parts of my old job and a lot of people I have not had opportunity to see in some time.

Of course, that made it awkward as well. It was the two month mark since Gabriel was born and there were people who knew of it, people who knew or had heard I was pregnant but not the outcome of that pregnancy, and people who knew only that we had been hoping for children soon.

And little is more awkward than seeing an old acquaintance, chatting away, and trying to find a polite way to say that we were pregnant, but no longer, and that yes we did have a son, but he died. Not exactly standard wedding fare, you know? But how else are you supposed to respond when someone descends on you in a chorus of congratulations and inquiries as to the sex of the baby you are supposed to be carrying?

The number of people who expressed surprised delight that we were out and about were amusing. I mean, we don't go out much anyway, but we generally attend weddings. I guess people thought I was likely to be still too deep in mourning to leave the house? I've been back at work for six weeks now, a wedding with an open bar (no, I didn't partake, as alcohol does not mix with the anti-depressant I'm on) that I can leave at any time after congratulating the bride and groom isn't that big a deal, social anxiety and all.

It was nice to catch up, but there was a good deal of talk about Gabriel and his birth which I had not really anticipated. It was nice though, to see the concern and the care. Even the bride and groom stopped and asked how we were, how we really were and expressed their sympathies in person and remembered that it was two months to the day. I mean, my goodness. How much nicer and more kind can you be than to remember such a thing at your own wedding?

I was grateful we went. Grateful to see two people joined together, grateful to see old friends and catch up, grateful to hear my son mentioned, grateful to prove that we are doing ok, no, really, we are doing ok. See? And find that they did see.

Then home, bed. Where I stayed much of today, alternately re-reading a book I enjoyed last year and dozing, late into the afternoon. It meant I missed the football game, but that was fine by me. The pile of laundry rebukes me, but there is still plenty of time for a load or two and the rest will keep. It was a restful day, which I appreciate. Hopefully this week won't be quite so frantic and filled as the last, but if it is, at least I feel adequately rested.