Professionals

I have an appointment next week with a reproductive endocrinologist with Baylor. It’s been nine months since I went to the OB/GYN and he gave me Clomid. I went through seven cycles of Clomid without any success. On the eighth, I noticed that I had a very light, very short period, and I decided to stop and let my body re-regulate. No luck there, either.

So we’re seeking professional help. I suspect that this will be a frustrating journey, since they’ll have to see what’s wrong first. Probably a lot of testing. Probably a lot of waiting on my body. Or on Graham’s. Or on both of us. And then some hard decisions about how far we want to take this, how far to go before we decide we waited too long, that we’re too old, that a baby may not be in the cards for us.

I’m not sure we’re there yet. Maybe I’m pregnant now, this last week of my cycle. Maybe I just need a nudge. Or Graham needs something. Or a catheter has better aim than we do on our own.

I’m a little scared, but there’s nothing to do but go to the appointment and see what the doctor says.

A year

A year ago today, I found out I was pregnant. I thought that this year would go drastically different than it turned out to, but I suppose nothing I really plan for happens.

Ironically enough, I’m in the two week wait period of my cycle. I have two more days before my period is supposed to start. Right now, I don’t feel like I’m pregnant or I’m not pregnant. I suppose I stopped really focusing on that sort of thing awhile ago.

What I am feeling is grossly overweight. I probably put on the pregnancy weight without actually going through the whole pregnancy. I am just now beginning to climb out of that particular fog, but it’s not pleasant. I went to the gym on Wednesday, and running was harder than it’s been in years. I know the cure to that is just more running, but I’m not looking forward to this at all. On the bright side, I bought a bike and am looking forward to using it for quick trips around the neighborhood. There’s a yoga studio not far from my house that I like, and it’s a lot easier to bike than drive due to minimal parking. I’m hopeful that a bike will help me get moving again.

There’s a better than good chance that I might actually be pregnant. I’m on Clomid again. Graham has also done some things in the last few months that have risen some of his levels. We certainly took care of the act of baby making in the period of time we’re supposed to. If I am pregnant, my due date is right at New Years, and the schedule is almost exactly what it would have been last year. We’ll see. Part of me is optimistic, but part of me is terrified of hoping for too much.

Running

I ran today.

It’s been awhile since I’ve done this in Houston, though I ran at the ranch over the Thanksgiving break. I went down to the bayou and I checked out the new pedestrian bridges. They are building a really nice place for runners, and for me to get there isn’t a really big deal. It’s about a mile to the bayou from my house, and I ran about a mile on the trails there before coming back. It was about three miles, and while I ran more than I walked, I walked a good bit. This is what I ran: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6183695

It was hard, and it hurt, and I wanted to give up a few times, but I kept on going, even if it was just walking.

I downloaded all of the data from my heart rate monitor today, and 2013 was a sad year in terms of activity. I don’t think I worked out more than three or four times a month the whole year. I had tons of excuses. My knee bothered me at first. Then I was pregnant. Then I wasn’t pregnant.

Weirdly, or maybe not, I probably took the best care of myself last year when I was pregnant. I paid super attention to what I ate. I exercised regularly. I drank lots of water. I paid super attention to my diet.

After the miscarriage, I think I gave up. If there was any major fall out from the miscarriage, it was that I lost all motivation to keep myself healthy. I sort of went into a lazy daze that I think I’m finally emerging from.

I have a doctor’s appointment next week. I want to see if there’s anything wrong with me in terms of getting pregnant. I have had some weird cycles, and I am just a little concerned that maybe it’s getting harder and harder. Graham saw a doctor a few months ago, and he’s having some things worked on in terms of his own health. I need to start paying attention to mine again.

And another month.

My temperature dropped today. It’s not an unusual thing for the end of the month, but it was something of an unusual cycle.   I didn’t ovulate until well after 20 days (I’m not exactly sure when), my temperatures have been zig zagging, and on Monday, I saw a teeny tiny drop of blood.  I thought I might be pregnant again.  The timing was right, and I thought that maybe it was implantation bleeding.

Today is the 31st day of this cycle, which is just insane for someone who needs medical intervention to get over 27 days.  And while I’m pretty sure I’m not pregnant, a tiny part of me is still holding out hope.  It probably will be until I see blood, and then I’ll hit a depression for a few hours.  And then I’ll start planning for the next cycle.

It’s a cycle that I’ve gotten used to over this pregnancy planning thing.  I don’t really like it, but I don’t hate it either. I’ve gotten used to the ebbs and flows of my cycles, though they’ve been less consistent after miscarriage than they were before.

I don’t really know if I have a point, or great insight, but I suppose I feel compelled to mark the month where I would have given birth and the true end of this particular journey.

37

I would have been 37 weeks pregnant this week.  That’s more or less when it’s not so dangerous to deliver. The extra three weeks are for cooking time, but delivery any point between now and 42 is not particularly unexpected.  Since I was carrying twins, maybe I would have been induced or scheduled for a C-section early. But then, if I hadn’t been carrying twins, maybe it wouldn’t have ended the way it did.  Maybe that particular sperm or that particular egg or that particular combination of genes was more at fault for the miscarriage than the fact that the blastocyst split.  It’s impossible to know, and it’s not really worth dwelling on.

I knew that this would be a hard time for me. And it has been. And it hasn’t been.  Every now and then I think about it and I get sad. But it’s not all consuming or dominating.  I forget about it a lot.

After the D&C, I was remarkably ok with things. We didn’t really tell that many people about it until July.  I think most of our close friends know now, but it wasn’t something I was particularly wanting to talk about when it first happened.  But at the same time, I wasn’t destroyed by it.  It was hard and awful and I don’t want to go through it again. But at the same time, it wasn’t the end of the world for me or for Graham.  And to be honest, until the due date started rapidly approaching, I didn’t think about that particular pregnancy much at all.

My mind plays a lot of what-if’s games.  I probably wouldn’t have even considered talking to that new job if we’d been able to carry the pregnancy to term.  I probably would have tons of Christmas presents for the babies, even though they weren’t due until a few days after.  Maybe we would have moved forward on the house expansion already? I’d be ready to pop any second, hoping that the weeks would fly by sooner so I could meet them.

But instead, we’re still trying.  I’m a little worried because my cycles have been abnormal once or twice since the miscarriage.  This cycle, it took forever to ovulate, and I’m pretty sure that it’ll be closer to 32 days long rather than my usual 26 or so.  In September, I had one that was 23 days.  Graham has also been a little worried, but he’s more proactive and went to a doctor and is doing something.   I’m instead trying to lose what would have been baby weight.  I forgot that I stress eat, and I’m not feeling particularly good about my body.

Still, I am hopeful that we will be able to get me pregnant, and the next time will be much, much better than the first.  I was hoping to be pregnant by my due date, but I think that’s very unlikely unless I pee on a stick next week.