26 week OB Appointment

I got a phone call from my doctor's secretary on Tuesday. I failed my 1 hour glucose test by 25 points (my glucose at 1 hour was 165 and needed to be 140 for me to pass. I failed the 1 hour test as well when I was pregnant with Jack, but I only failed it by 8 points with him. My OB feels I will probably pass the test because she said most of the time if it's below 200, you don't have any trouble passing the 3 hour. Here's hoping! Needless to say, I get to do the 3 hour glucose tolerance test this coming Monday after I take Jack to school. I am dreading this because I remember how cruddy I felt when I had to go in after fasting with Jack, and wait 3 hours to eat. I thought I was going to throw up, but was amazed when I didn't. This time, I have to get up earlier because I have a little boy to get ready for school, feed him breakfast while I take my zofran and hope for the best. I figure by the time I get to eat, I'll have been up for 5 hours with an empty stomach. Oh well right? I just pray if I do throw up, it's not until the test is over because I don't want to have to drink that sickeningly sweet syrup twice.

My OB appointment was today. First thing was my weight. I am up one whole pound since my 10 week appointment (my first OB appointment this pregnancy). I'm ok with this, and my OB didn't seem concerned. Second thing was to take my blood pressure. I felt fine with the exception of having had really bad headaches the last 3 days. My initial blood pressure was 140/78. They rechecked it at the end with me lying on my left side for 5 minutes and it was 118/76 which is what I've been running, so we were all happy with that. I told my OB that in my paranoia after hearing I'd failed the glucose test, I tried to measure myself and thought I was measuring about 28 weeks. She said I was right where I should be at my 22 week appointment, but of course, we'd check it this time too. Sure enough, she said I was right between 27.5 and 28 weeks with my measurement. She's not going to worry too much about it until we see where I am at my next appointment.

Lastly, I had to ask because I just didn't understand the explanation I got from the gynecological surgeon back in November about the hysterectomy and why I wouldn't be able to have it done at the same time as a c-section if I had to have a c-section for some reason. My OB explained that normally (not pregnant), the blood vessels around the uterus and ovaries are very thin, so when they remove them, it's not alot of blood loss. However, when the woman is pregnant the blood vessels are dilated to about two finger-widths and so the risk of hemorrhaging is huge. THANK YOU. Finally, someone willing to explain it to me. I'm not arguing about when it's done, I just wanted to know the reasoning on why it couldn't be done at the same time as a c-section. Now it all makes perfect sense.

Charlie has been very active, to the point of scaring me sometimes. I just worried he'll get himself tangled in his cord like Jack did, and since there isn't a way for us to know if his cord is short like Jack's was, well, I get worried sometimes. My OB said her more active child was NOT the one to end up with a nuchal cord, it was her more sedate one that did. Jack was definitely more sedate than Charlie is, although he also had his moments of high activity. This child just goes crazy after I eat and doesn't seem to stop for a while. I love watching my belly jump.

A friend and I were talking the other day about our pregnancies-we're both on our second child-she's had a couple of miscarriages between children however. She is due almost 3 weeks after me. I was telling her that I feel guilty because I feel like while I'm enjoying this pregnancy more than I did my first one (I'm telling you, I was more sick with Jack than with Charlie even though this pregnancy has involved IV's and other issues which I didn't have with Jack), I don't feel like I'm bonding with this child the same as I did with Jack. She isn't enjoying this pregnancy as much as she did with her first, but also doesn't feel as bonded. She thinks it's probably because we have other kids to chase around and worry about, we just don't have the free time that we did before to relax in the tub, stroking our tummies and talking to the unborn babies. Maybe that's it.

I remember about a week after my first transfer, taking a warm bath and just laying there talking to the embryos, begging them to stick around, telling them how much love we had for them, and how much we wanted them. I remember laying in the tub with my swollen belly talking to Jack, reading him stories, trying to force Archie to read him stories and talk to him. This time, I've taken one bath (there just isn't enough time), and I talked to him a little. I told him that we were so glad he was growing, and how blessed we felt, and how I was so excited for him to come out in January and meet his big brother. I'll talk to him here and there when he's overly active, asking him what it is he's doing in there. Jack will occassionally sing a song to him, and he's always kissing my tummy. Archie has started talking to him more as the weeks have gone on. I don't know, it's just different this time and I don't know why. Maybe I won't experience the shock and guilt that I did when Jack was born. I felt so bonded to him in utero, but when he was born, I felt so disconnected. I felt so guilty about that and I couldn't understand. Was it because I'd been awake for 27 hours before he was born, and I was just sheer exhausted? Was it normal? Was I going to be an awful mother? I confided in my best friend, and she said she felt the same way when her daughter was born 8 weeks prior. I felt better, but I still felt like an already awful mother.

I just have these fears, some valid, some probably not so much. Don't get me wrong, I'm so excited, and grateful to be able to experience all of this again and to welcome another sweet boy into our family. We have more than enough love to give (heck, Jack would probably vouch for that when I'm squeezing him too tight in a hug, or smothering him in kisses). I'm just a little scared. One rocked our world. I don't think I got out of the house for the first 8 weeks before 10am, and I had trouble just figuring out what to do with him while I took a shower because all he wanted was to be held. I'm wondering (and trying to come up with a game plan) on how I'm going to handle two, let alone things like getting everyone up and dressed and out the door to take Jack to school by 8am. It's just going to mean earlier mornings and less sleep. If I thought I was in a fog for the first 3 months of Jack's life, I'm sure I haven't experienced anything yet, LOL.

Then I'm also dealing with the fears of an infertile. I've talked to a few of my infertile friends. IF is so hard. You work for years to start and build a family. We still have two embryos on ice. We've both said we're happy with two. But a couple of my friends have had their two, and thought that they were happy with that, only to say later, that they want another. Financially, two makes sense for us. We're out of money from the insurance to try again, so another cycle of thawing and FET would cost us totally out of pocket. We know twins would kill us financially, but it doesn't make sense to only put one back-especially when we've always put two back and only ever gotten pregnant with one. But with my luck, it would be twins. Don't get me wrong, we'd love them as much as our other kids, but the financial stresses on our family would be immense. I just can't see doing it. Jack tells us we need another baby all the time, and I keep telling him we're having another baby, and he says, "No, I mean after Charlie." Ugh. He wants that sister, LOL.

Believe me, if we got pregnant on our own (which I have to say after 6 years of trying, and 4 IVF cycles probably isn't going to happen since we tried on our own between cycles and before our first cycle), we'd gladly accept that blessing. I just don't think it's likely. I had prayed after Jack that we'd be one of "those" couples. You know, the ones who have to have treatment, and then they go on to magically conceive on their own afterwards...yeah, that wasn't us. So I can't imagine it would happen now. I've talked to Jack about being grateful for what God has given us. I have told him how hard we prayed for a baby, and how long, and how many doctor's appointments we had, and God finally gave Jack to us. Then I asked if he remembered how hard we prayed for another baby, and if he remembered all the appointments he went to with me to try to get ready for another baby and he said yes. I explained that God is finally giving us another baby-Charlie, and how grateful we are for him, and that we should be grateful that God had it in his plan to give us Charlie. That I feel like we have enough, but that if God gave us another baby without us having to go see the doctor's all the time, and without all of the things Mommy had to have done to give us Jack and Charlie, that we would welcome it with open arms.

It's hard to come to a decision we feel ok about as well for our embryos. Do we pay for them to be kept in storage? And if so, for how long? Is there a point when we don't want to go through anymore treatments? We could donate them so another couple out there could have a chance to have a child they've always wanted. But when I think about that option-as much as I'd like to be the person to do that, it feels like we'd be giving up two of our children for adoption, and as hard as we've worked to have our babies, prayed for them and wanted them, it seems so incongrous. It would be so hard to know that we had children elsewhere who weren't at home with us. After talking to Archie that's not something we're ok with either. But I also don't like the idea of letting them be thawed and just go. We worked so hard to bring life into this world. I'm not really sure what the answer is for us. It's something we're going to have to think, pray and talk about some more before any final decisions are made. We have until February to decide whether to store them for another year. Maybe we'll have made a decision by then.

Ok, I have to go, we're heading up tonight for my grandmother's services tomorrow. Hope you all have a great weekend.

First Reflections

I've gotten through about 12% (according to my Kindle) of Jennifer Saake's book entitled "Hannah's Hope". I've read the bible passages she referenced in the first part of it, and I've read the "Burden Bearers" section meant for people (friends, family, church leaders, etc) supporting those dealing with infertility, loss, failed adoptions, etc. Below are some of the things that stuck out to me, and my reflections on them.

Saake asks at one point in her own experiences, "Would I choose bitterness and self destruction, or growth and renewed hope?" That resonated with me as I remember those dark days after our first failed cycle. I remember the extreme bitterness and depression I was battling. I think I'm difficult to deal with on a regular basis (God bless my husband and mother), but I know that I hated myself after that cycle, and I know it showed to those around me. I was terrified of what I would be like if our third cycle was a failure too. I told myself I had to stay focused on what I do have (a wonderfully supportive family and friends, and a really sweet and adorable little boy), and just keep on living life no matter how difficult that might be. I spoke with my psychiatrist last week about how I try really hard to stay away from the negative thoughts that come into my mind, but sometimes it's so hard to let it go, just like thinking about adoption if all of these cycles fail, but then thinking, I have to focus on "the now". It's so hard to turn off that type of thinking. She suggested something that she had suggested when I first started seeing her years ago and was in a bad depression, and that is that when I start to think these negative thoughts, say, "This is not helpful." And when I was first diagnosed with depression, I remember thinking "this is not helpful, but I can't think of anything else." Maybe I've been trained in how to better manage my depression since then, but my psychiatrist added to it this past week in saying that after I say that to myself, I need to redirect to focusing on the positive. This is tricky for someone like me who is dealing with secondary infertility now. Believe me when I tell you that my son is what makes me want to get up in the morning, who can resist such a sweet voice over the baby monitor (don't laugh, I have a hard time hearing him when I have the fan on in my room and the door closed to keep the dog in)? I am eternally grateful to the precious gift God continues to give us in that little boy of mine. BUT, I also have a very hard time finding a positive to focus on during a cycle that unfortunately, but realistically, may not work. In this case, my doctor suggested focusing on what I have control over. Control is a huge issue for this type A infertile. The problem is that with these cycles, you can only control so much. But she is right. I will focus on what I can control-the vitamins and supplements I am taking, my meds, how much I lay around with my butt in the air on Mother's day weekend (with the exception of going out to lunch with my mom on Sunday!), controlling what I do and do not put into my body (no caffeine!). These are the things I can control. I cannot control whether God will ultimately bless us with another pregnancy. I cannot control whether that pregnancy will result in a healthy full-term baby. I have to learn to give those things over to Him, and in doing that and letting go of what I cannot control, I believe I am growing and having more hope. I am not as bitter as I once was.

Saake talks about her own childhood memories and I find that they are rather similar to my own hopes and dreams I had as a child about becoming a mother. I always wanted to play the "mommy" when my sister and I would play pretend "House". I was always Mommy to my dolls. I remember liking to bring my dolls and strap them into the seat next to me in the car, and even dressing my cat-Toby-in infant onesies (seriously I have a picture somewhere to prove it, poor cat). These little fantasies didn't stop as I got older. I knew that the kids in the Early Childhood classes in high school got to carry around "flour babies" and so I signed up for that class, and my cabbage patch from my younger days got a sack of flour taped around his plush body, my mom took me to a consignment store to get some outfits for him, and I carried him around with me as my class called for (everywhere you could and if you couldn't take it with you, you'd better have a babysitter!) for a few weeks and most of the time loved it. His name was Austin Michael-no joke, I still remember this, LOL. The only really embarassing moment is that I must have played the part pretty well because some older woman was interested in seeing this (and by this, I mean ME) 16 year old girl's baby in the grocery store, and I didn't want to undo the blanket, show her and have to explain it. My mother was with me and I remember feeling REALLY awkward, and then my mom (who I fully expected to step in and explain our school project) said, "Go ahead, show her." I couldn't wait for the day when someone really would be interested in seeing my REAL live baby. The scary part was that as excited as I was about this role I'd one day play, I always worried. I worried I'd get divorced like my parents and be single and have to get artificially inseminated and raise a child on my own. I remember feeling like something just wouldn't be easy about having a child for me. I would watch the lifetime movies and see the people being surrogates for their close friends and not realizing just how huge a decision that would be, and all the legal and emotional matters surrounding that decision, but thinking that I would so do that for someone else, and wondering would someone do it for me if I needed that? I didn't know at that point that I had endometriosis, but I did know that I had really heavy, painful periods and it worried me. I didn't know for sure that we would have issues, but it was really eerie when we were diagnosed with all of our issues, and I realized that I'd always thought having a baby would be an issue for me.

The other thing that Saake suggests in the beginning part of the book is to "list your fears about your family as it is currently designed, then ask the Lord to help you trust him with your worries." I have prayed and asked for Him to help us continue to grow our family because I fear that we won't be able to have any more children. I've asked Him to protect our son and continue to give us so many more days and moments together because one of my biggest fears is that we will lose him (I don't think it helps to be a nurse who works with children who sometimes don't make it). I've asked Him to protect our marriage because I know how much of a toll the emotional part of infertility can take on a relationship, and how much the drugs make me a loon and I fear Archie will want to leave. I've asked Him not to give us more than we can handle emotionally, financially or physically. I've asked Him to continue to provide for us in the ways that only He can, and to help me give up the control on the things that are solely in His control. These are the things I pray for on a regular basis for our family.