Well, I ripped off that damn band-aid.
After thinking it over, reading your insightful and supportive comments, and talking to Big Guy, I decided I was going to simulate as much control as I possibly could with the progesterone/spotting fiasco. So, I ripped it off. Forty-eight hours after my last dose I waited on pins and needles. I had a mini anxiety attack. I needlessly escaped to the bathroom at any opportunity. I chugged lots and lots and lots of water. Anything to make an excuse to check the panty liner.
I waited and I waited and I waited.
And then nothing happened.
Not one to fully trust given any amount of evidence, I continued the incessant checking for two more days. My poor Lady V became a bit sore from the vigorous wiping. I was confident I would dislodge some bits of blood from somewhere. But, no. Nothing.
As such, I moved into my second trimester by all measures without any remaining spotting. Thank God for small mercies.
Now, I just have to figure out what one does with three first trimesters worth of needles.
Chock full! Needles only! No syringes!
I have a bit of a secret. I’m still taking the progesterone. I’ve had two practitioners tell me to stop, and the thought of stopping scares the ever-living shit out of me.
When I told my CNM that I was still doing the injections, she told me I could stop. When I explained the spotting she rationally discussed that many women experience withdrawal bleeding when they stop the progesterone. She then suggested weaning off of it. So, I went to injecting 1 cc of PIO every other night instead of every night. One week into this routine, I woke up with mild spotting when I was due for another shot, so I gave myself the shot and the spotting stopped. Four days later, just this morning, it happened again.
I know that the spotting is related to varying levels of progesterone. I get it, but the spotting freaks me out. If it prevents me from ever spotting again, I will inject PIO into my ass ALL.THE.TIME. Conversely, I hate the spotting and I will, eventually, run out of the PIO. I kinda just want to rip the band-aid off and have the withdrawal spotting, and then say adios to the PIO. Of course my rational brain tells me this is safe and an okay thing to do. My irrational self fears that I have a faulty placenta and that it is incapable of doing the job, hence the spotting. NEVER STOP!, it says.
In order to assuage my fears, I bought a cheap doppler from Amazon. I found the heartbeat on Friday and then again this morning when I saw the spotting. I don’t want to have to run to the doppler every other day to make sure my body isn’t killing my healthy baby.
I just gave myself another shot, so I guess I will face the decision again on Tuesday morning. What do you think? Continue the injections until I run out or pull off the band-aid?
I noticed some blood when I wiped last night. It was faint and barely visible on the toilet paper. I saw more this morning, and it was enough to make it to my underwear. A quarter sized dollop of pink tinted vaginal/cervical fluid. Cue anxiety attack.
I called my doctor’s office right at 8:45 when they opened. The receptionist was very kind and gave me the rote response saved for panicky women who are barely spotting without any cramping. I heard none of it. I started crying. I told her that I was a infertility patient. I told her that I had two miscarriages in the past nine months. This got me a direct line with the nurse who was kind enough to schedule an ultrasound in just two short hours.
The ultrasound went well. The babe’s heart rate was at 166 BPM, and was measuring 49 mm well ahead of its 10 weeks and 6 days. The baby has fingers, toes, a heart, a spine. The baby even has a cute nose. It may be my nose, which is a bit of a tragedy, but I’ll love it and kiss it anyway. All parts are accounted for and trucking away. This did not stop the crying. The nurse was very, very nice, and it became clear that this was an effort to appease the hysterical infertile woman. I don’t care. It worked. I’m appeased.
So, what caused the spotting? I ran out of my progesterone in oil on Saturday. I had meant to call in a refill, but I didn’t catch them while they were open. So, I missed two doses. The medicine came this morning, and I promptly opened up the box and shot myself in the ass. I’m going to double dose on the PIO for today, and hope this light, light spotting goes away. It’s freaking me the fuck out!
Miscarriage PTSD* sucks.
*On the off chance that any of my readers are struggling with PTSD or know of individuals with PTSD, let me be clear that I do not think I have PTSD as defined by the DSM, nor do I want to make light of the condition. I do think that I have residual grief and trauma to work through regarding my two miscarriages, and I am easily triggered. However, I do believe this pales in comparison to what those with PTSD suffer through.
New readers to my blog have stumbled upon Return to Go at a sad time. I recently found out I was pregnant. Thirteen days ago at 13 DPO, my test turned positive, if ever so faintly. Positive again at 14 DPO, and a little darker. In honor of the pregnancy, I called my RE and scheduled a beta for that day at 15 DPO. The beta was very low at 33, and my heart broke a little bit. Despite the late implantation and the low betas, my numbers continued to rise to 66, 140, and 410 at 17 DPO, 20 DPO, and 24 DPO. This was a doubling time of 48, 66, and 62 hours, respectively. Just this past Saturday, or 25 DPO, I started to spot.
Today brings us to Monday. Twenty-seven days past ovulation and at five weeks five days, my pregnancy test this morning was ridiculously light. Markedly lighter than any test that I have taken in days, if not weeks. I don’t need an ultrasound or a blood test to reveal that this pregnancy isn’t viable. My body has sent me some clear messages. This, in and of itself, is a relief. My first loss was a missed miscarriage at 8 weeks 6 days, and I was shocked at my body’s betrayal. How could it not have told me things weren’t going well? Things are much clearer this time.
Some may say that the cheap internet tests are not reliable. Some may say that 1 out of 3 women spot in pregnancy. It isn’t that uncommon. Some may say that it isn’t over until it is over. But my instincts tell me differently. I would love to be wrong. I would love to be wildly, pessimistically, wrong. My partner and I can laugh about how wrong I was all the way to 40 weeks. We can tell this child about how we doubted it’s perseverance and strength. We can enroll them in martial arts and boxing classes because they were such a fighter en utero. I would love to be wrong, but I don’t think I am.
I’m waiting until 8 am PST to call my doctor. I should know by the end of the day.
I woke up in a pool of nasty last night. Nope, didn’t have an “accident”, just a hot flash. I finished my last dose of Clomid on CD 7, or Saturday, and it seems as if the side effects are just kicking in. To recap, this is my first medicated cycle, and I took 100 mg of Clomid on cycle days 3-7. I’m currently on CD 10.
Additional Clomid observations:
- Holy-moly emotions. I will freely admit that I’ve been a bit of a mess. I’ve cried every day. I’ve railed against the injustices of life. I’ve written unhappy blog posts. I’ve spent a lot of time sleeping. I will not be attending a viewing of Titanic in 3-D. That’s a recipe for disaster.
- Heavy ovaries. Those suckers seemed to plump up nicely, but, again, I didn’t notice this until after my last dosage. Is this weird? Side effects after you complete the the med cycle?
- Spotting. It is unusual for me to spot after my period ends, but this cycle I spotted for four days afterwards, which took me to my final day of Clomid. I’ve surmised that this could be a product of post-miscarriage cycle weirdness or the Clomid. Either one.
- Headache. Ugh. Headaches are awful, and hormone headaches are the worst. Well, my cleanse headache was pretty voracious and was completely resistant to any drugs. This guy that is bouncing around in my head is currently hovering on the right side, above my temple. He says, “Hi.”
- I hesitate to even write this for fear of screwing with fate, but did anyone find that Clomid had a constipating effect? I can’t complain. Anything that will slow down the havoc Metformin wreaks on my digestive tract is awesome.
I have an appointment with my RE for an ultrasound on Thursday, or CD 12. I hope I have two awesome follicles. I hope that they are 18 cm or larger. I hope that they say, “Let’s trigger!”. Here’s to hope.