Here we go again - yet another missed miscarriage. Not that unsurprising given the slow progress at the last one but still a big blow.
I have now hit that 3 m/c jackpot for referral to the recurrent miscarriage unit - oh joy. I know I said we were done but I am going to take the referral anyway as I want to know as much as I can as to why this keeps happening. I know that at the most likely reason is the elderly eggs but still given I already have an auto-immune disease (lupus) its possible that there could be something testable going on.
So yesterday morning was spent at super calming full of ancient Greek pots private scan place - 2 scans to confirm the blindingly obvious to everyone from the first 30 seconds - little growth and no heartbeat is a pretty big clue. Followed by super expensive delicious banana, cardamon and chocolate muffin and a flat white in glamour cafe to ease the pain. Walk in the sun through central London to the EPU at massive teaching hospital to be scanned again and then given the "options". I can't face expectant management so the ERPC under local will be on Tuesday next week. Now I just have to try and organise the genetic testing which for obscure reasons isn't standard and getting my APS status checked before the procedure. I usually test negative for APS but occasionally positive and I just want to rule it out for this one.
I do find it so very very frustrating that for most of my thirties my body refused to get it together so that A could meet B and create C when the eggs were in order without huge amounts of money and drugs and then works it out for my 40s when only dodgy eggs are left. Oh and that my body is still behaving to all intents and purposes as if I was still pregnant.
Anyway there we are. Thank you all so much for your support. I am going to use the weekend to work out how to put photos on and regale you with traditional British seaside bucket and spade shots. At least the holiday - which was lovely - was not ruined by this hideous process.
Friday, 24 April 2009
Thursday, 9 April 2009
Phew - kinda.....
I have been told by the very Germanic dr at the fancy scan joint to be cautiously optimistic so I am trying it out for size. Not sure it fits yet.
So the good from this morning:
1. heartbeat - absolutely definitely - saw it myself;
2. fetal pole, yolk sac, amniotic sac - yes, yes, yes;
3. gestational sac - yup;
4. ovaries fine;
5. pouch of douglas (who? what?) - fine.
And the very much less good:
Measuring at least a week behind where I thought I should be so I've another 14 days of angst before I know anything for definite (unless I know sooner for bad reasons). Would have liked to go back sooner but Easter has meant they are totally chocabloc for the week after.
Self justification of being positive - the CRL is ok for just about 6w - although the sac is a bit small; my periods have been a bit shonky - varying by 4 days in length; I could have ovulated late I suppose which could account for another few days, or implanted late. Dr Google is being monumentally unhelpful as usual although I have ascertained that the sac is definitely over 5mm bigger than the CRL which is a allegedly a good thing.
Trouble is I have been here before. I hate uncertainty.
We are off to the Isle of Wight tomorrow - so sand castles and ice creams for us - hopefully the weather will be clement but have top to toe rain gear if not. Have a good break people.
So the good from this morning:
1. heartbeat - absolutely definitely - saw it myself;
2. fetal pole, yolk sac, amniotic sac - yes, yes, yes;
3. gestational sac - yup;
4. ovaries fine;
5. pouch of douglas (who? what?) - fine.
And the very much less good:
Measuring at least a week behind where I thought I should be so I've another 14 days of angst before I know anything for definite (unless I know sooner for bad reasons). Would have liked to go back sooner but Easter has meant they are totally chocabloc for the week after.
Self justification of being positive - the CRL is ok for just about 6w - although the sac is a bit small; my periods have been a bit shonky - varying by 4 days in length; I could have ovulated late I suppose which could account for another few days, or implanted late. Dr Google is being monumentally unhelpful as usual although I have ascertained that the sac is definitely over 5mm bigger than the CRL which is a allegedly a good thing.
Trouble is I have been here before. I hate uncertainty.
We are off to the Isle of Wight tomorrow - so sand castles and ice creams for us - hopefully the weather will be clement but have top to toe rain gear if not. Have a good break people.
Wednesday, 8 April 2009
F*ck - scan tomorrow
Have decided deep gloom is best preparation.
Good signs:
- getting up to pee in the night;
- nausea;
- dizziness;
- much more tired than normal;
- sleeping terribly;
- digestion weird;
- need for endless peppermint tea.
Bad signs:
- no throwing up like the previous times;
- able to clean teeth mostly without retching;
- boobs not much different - although I think the fact I'm still feeding the boy at night won't help on this one. Oh and feeding has become painful which I think might need to be in the good sign box.
None of the above is worth shit however as I have been in the every symptom under the sun but no viable pregnancy camp before. Nothing I can do about it anyway. If this goes tits up though I am done. As in use contraception done. At least I think so.
Good thing we get tomorrow afternoon off as it is Maundy Thursday (a rare civil servant perk). Given the location of the scan unit my credit card may take a bashing.
Think of me.
Good signs:
- getting up to pee in the night;
- nausea;
- dizziness;
- much more tired than normal;
- sleeping terribly;
- digestion weird;
- need for endless peppermint tea.
Bad signs:
- no throwing up like the previous times;
- able to clean teeth mostly without retching;
- boobs not much different - although I think the fact I'm still feeding the boy at night won't help on this one. Oh and feeding has become painful which I think might need to be in the good sign box.
None of the above is worth shit however as I have been in the every symptom under the sun but no viable pregnancy camp before. Nothing I can do about it anyway. If this goes tits up though I am done. As in use contraception done. At least I think so.
Good thing we get tomorrow afternoon off as it is Maundy Thursday (a rare civil servant perk). Given the location of the scan unit my credit card may take a bashing.
Think of me.
Monday, 23 March 2009
Reviving the dead
Gosh its been a long time. No excuses really - 3 hectic weeks in Canada /the US followed by a grim 4 months at work , then Christmas, then a new job and too many blogs on my Reader that I feel compelled to read first before writing anything myself. Comments have been the only thing I have done for months.
And truth be told for quite a lot of the last few months I have been miserable. That low level pernicious not quite proper depression which is the result of two kids, two parents with jobs, too little sleep and generally feeling sorry for oneself and one's lot. Not a happy bunny even though on paper the two gorgeous kids, one lovely husband, nice house, good job etc are all exactly as I would have ordered. For reasons which are unclear I have been feeling better since the weather got better so perhaps it was all just seasonal affective disorder combined with pre-menstrual quasi-psychosis? Anyway I have been miserable and vile. My kids think I am shouty - sadly they are not wrong. My fuse has been infinitesimally short. Disputes over clothes for school - oh how I wish her school did not think uniform stifled the little darlings' creativity - turning in to shouting matches between a 41 yr old and a 5 yr old with the 41 yr old being quite frankly the least mature of the two. Whilst it is charming in a way to see how some personality traits work their way down to the next generation perhaps stubborn and argumentative were not the greatest things to have picked up from me.
Anyhoo - I have lots of stuff on the miserable months that I would quite like to get out in writing but I have something rather more pressing on my mind at present. Much to my surprise we managed to get me pregnant again without the services of our clinic or indeed any other medical professional. Unfortunately for me given my advancing years (there are only a few days before I am 42) and my track record of 4 pregnancies but only 2 live births the chances of this progressing inexorably towards the end of November and the arrival of a further child are very slim. I am 4w 5d now. I have booked a viability scan for 7w 1d and am assuming that either I won't need it or it will tell me that my week away at Easter will be grim. I have a great track record for miscarriages on holidays - May Bank holiday and a week in Sicily for m/c no 1 and Christmas at my parents for m/c no 2. I know that I should be indulging in positive thinking but I am now in a knicker checking, boob pressing frenzy and will be until this is proved as a keeper or not.
This turn of events, which was met by choruses of "oh fuck, what have we done?" from both of us and long silences from himself, is not what we had planned. After "did it by ourselves" pregnancy no 1 in 2007 and its demise I had finally got round to a point of acceptance that it was not going to happen again (because come on we had approx 10 years of unprotected sex and nada) and we were going to be a family of 4. It had taken a good long time. I also had a mental line in the sand of conception pre 42 and after that no more, definitively too old. Oh how the fates laughed - this pregnancy has as you will see snuck under my mental wire by a week. Bastard fates. Now I assume they will play with me for a few weeks and then laugh in my face. OK that really is being too gloom and doom but maybe it will cocoon me from the grief that will follow if this does go tits up.
Now - that wasn't too difficult. Not sure what was keeping me from posting before. Thanks must go to Hairy Farmer Family whose email prompted me into updating (although I haven't quite mastered links or photos).
And truth be told for quite a lot of the last few months I have been miserable. That low level pernicious not quite proper depression which is the result of two kids, two parents with jobs, too little sleep and generally feeling sorry for oneself and one's lot. Not a happy bunny even though on paper the two gorgeous kids, one lovely husband, nice house, good job etc are all exactly as I would have ordered. For reasons which are unclear I have been feeling better since the weather got better so perhaps it was all just seasonal affective disorder combined with pre-menstrual quasi-psychosis? Anyway I have been miserable and vile. My kids think I am shouty - sadly they are not wrong. My fuse has been infinitesimally short. Disputes over clothes for school - oh how I wish her school did not think uniform stifled the little darlings' creativity - turning in to shouting matches between a 41 yr old and a 5 yr old with the 41 yr old being quite frankly the least mature of the two. Whilst it is charming in a way to see how some personality traits work their way down to the next generation perhaps stubborn and argumentative were not the greatest things to have picked up from me.
Anyhoo - I have lots of stuff on the miserable months that I would quite like to get out in writing but I have something rather more pressing on my mind at present. Much to my surprise we managed to get me pregnant again without the services of our clinic or indeed any other medical professional. Unfortunately for me given my advancing years (there are only a few days before I am 42) and my track record of 4 pregnancies but only 2 live births the chances of this progressing inexorably towards the end of November and the arrival of a further child are very slim. I am 4w 5d now. I have booked a viability scan for 7w 1d and am assuming that either I won't need it or it will tell me that my week away at Easter will be grim. I have a great track record for miscarriages on holidays - May Bank holiday and a week in Sicily for m/c no 1 and Christmas at my parents for m/c no 2. I know that I should be indulging in positive thinking but I am now in a knicker checking, boob pressing frenzy and will be until this is proved as a keeper or not.
This turn of events, which was met by choruses of "oh fuck, what have we done?" from both of us and long silences from himself, is not what we had planned. After "did it by ourselves" pregnancy no 1 in 2007 and its demise I had finally got round to a point of acceptance that it was not going to happen again (because come on we had approx 10 years of unprotected sex and nada) and we were going to be a family of 4. It had taken a good long time. I also had a mental line in the sand of conception pre 42 and after that no more, definitively too old. Oh how the fates laughed - this pregnancy has as you will see snuck under my mental wire by a week. Bastard fates. Now I assume they will play with me for a few weeks and then laugh in my face. OK that really is being too gloom and doom but maybe it will cocoon me from the grief that will follow if this does go tits up.
Now - that wasn't too difficult. Not sure what was keeping me from posting before. Thanks must go to Hairy Farmer Family whose email prompted me into updating (although I haven't quite mastered links or photos).
Saturday, 9 August 2008
Holiday time
Tomorrow we leave for Vancouver. Oh the joy of the prospect of a 10.5 hour flight with two children under 5 with one who will be confined to my lap. And the one confined to my lap has been ill all day - the 7th nappy full of poo has just been changed and it is just gone 5 pm. We have been inside all day packing "light". Except it isn't light and we still aren't finished. We now have the prospect of going to the other side of London for a family wedding in the pouring rain after which my parents, sister and nephews are coming to camp out in our house.
The house is a tip because I have been frantic at work. In my business August is supposed to be the month when nothing happens - court is shut, parliament isn't sitting and everyone relaxes. Except it isn't true because July is hell as everyone wants everything finished before the carriages turn into pumpkins on 1 August and then it transpires that the message that August is the month of nothing happening hasn't actually got through to the people who create work for me. So the last few weeks have been a nightmare plus I have had to pick up stuff from the people who have been on holiday already on the basis that August is dead. I now get my own back by dumping a hideous job on my manager.
We will need this holiday I tell you.
It is coming at a good time as our lovely nanny left on Friday to go home to New Zealand to retrain as a midwife. We were all really upset. I was surprised at how hard I took it when she announced she was going about 6 weeks ago. I invested a lot of emotional energy into hiring her and feeling able to leave my children with her for 3 days a week. I panicked about whether the other mums at the pre-school would let me know if anything amiss happened. It didn't and in fact she was always in demand for babysitting and doing the odd day here and there for them. We had got used to her as part of the family. She is the only alternative caregiver my youngest has ever known. I just didn't want that to change. He is totally oblivious I think to the fact that there will be no more "E** days" but the elder one isn't and that makes it harder to be upbeat about the replacement who seems lovely too but just won't be the same. Nothing like this kind of upheaval to bring down a severe case of working mother angst. I hope that nearly 3 weeks away will make them ready for new things when we come home.
Next thing is to work out how I am ever going to keep up with my blog reading whilst I am away. I might even try transatlantic blog entry posting to get me up from my once a month average.
Happy summer holidays!
The house is a tip because I have been frantic at work. In my business August is supposed to be the month when nothing happens - court is shut, parliament isn't sitting and everyone relaxes. Except it isn't true because July is hell as everyone wants everything finished before the carriages turn into pumpkins on 1 August and then it transpires that the message that August is the month of nothing happening hasn't actually got through to the people who create work for me. So the last few weeks have been a nightmare plus I have had to pick up stuff from the people who have been on holiday already on the basis that August is dead. I now get my own back by dumping a hideous job on my manager.
We will need this holiday I tell you.
It is coming at a good time as our lovely nanny left on Friday to go home to New Zealand to retrain as a midwife. We were all really upset. I was surprised at how hard I took it when she announced she was going about 6 weeks ago. I invested a lot of emotional energy into hiring her and feeling able to leave my children with her for 3 days a week. I panicked about whether the other mums at the pre-school would let me know if anything amiss happened. It didn't and in fact she was always in demand for babysitting and doing the odd day here and there for them. We had got used to her as part of the family. She is the only alternative caregiver my youngest has ever known. I just didn't want that to change. He is totally oblivious I think to the fact that there will be no more "E** days" but the elder one isn't and that makes it harder to be upbeat about the replacement who seems lovely too but just won't be the same. Nothing like this kind of upheaval to bring down a severe case of working mother angst. I hope that nearly 3 weeks away will make them ready for new things when we come home.
Next thing is to work out how I am ever going to keep up with my blog reading whilst I am away. I might even try transatlantic blog entry posting to get me up from my once a month average.
Happy summer holidays!
Monday, 30 June 2008
Missing a due date
I am coming up to one of those nasty things: a due date which never happened. The first one of these events comes around at Christmas time. This last Christmas that date passed me by as I was in the throes of the miscarriage which should instead have led on to the due date I am currently obsessing about. The upcoming date has me feeling maudlin to say the least. Oh and my period came again just like clockwork. Marvellous. Just marvellous.
In the grand scheme of things earlyish miscarriages are so easily dismissed as "just one of those things, lots of people have them and don't worry at least you know you can get pregnant". Well actually as far as the latest miscarriage was concerned no, I didn't bloody know I could get pregnant, not without a smorgasbord of drugs, needles and petri dishes at any rate. And it wasn't for lack of trying.
Even though the pregnancy failed to progress it was at least pretty amazing to finally have to the things that happen to seemingly everyone I know in the real world: realise my period was late; head out to the chemist for a test; do it and see the word pregnant appear in no seconds flat and no need to to see or tell any medical professional immediately. I have never been one for doing pregnancy tests. In fact even with the ivfs I never peed on any sticks as I was too scared to see what would be on them. I just had the blood tests and made the husband call for the results so I wouldn't have to hear bad news. I would occasionally think there might be cause to go and get a test but usually before I'd even worked myself up to buying one it would become obvious it wasn't necessary. So this whole unbelievable natural pregnancy and stick peeing was a major event. How pathetic is that - peeing on a piece of plastic a major event - this infertility business skews one's sense of what is important somewhat.
The husband, being a man albeit one who is usually pretty astute about these things, had no idea this date was coming up at all. I suppose that is hardly surprising. Whilst the emotional commitment of the man to the pregnancy as a whole and the baby to come is undoubted in the vast majority of cases, given that the physical contribution to the event is pretty fleeting I can see why a man might not be so invested in the exact number of weeks passing by. Its not like I was counting the weeks either - I just knew when 20 weeks should have been and 30 and 40. Still it pissed me off that he seemed to have forgotten entirely. But then it was only another of the things making me cross and miserable these past few days which encompass such things as the guilt of the working mother, the politics of the 4 year old birthday party and the nature of friendships. But I think those better be for another day.
In the grand scheme of things earlyish miscarriages are so easily dismissed as "just one of those things, lots of people have them and don't worry at least you know you can get pregnant". Well actually as far as the latest miscarriage was concerned no, I didn't bloody know I could get pregnant, not without a smorgasbord of drugs, needles and petri dishes at any rate. And it wasn't for lack of trying.
Even though the pregnancy failed to progress it was at least pretty amazing to finally have to the things that happen to seemingly everyone I know in the real world: realise my period was late; head out to the chemist for a test; do it and see the word pregnant appear in no seconds flat and no need to to see or tell any medical professional immediately. I have never been one for doing pregnancy tests. In fact even with the ivfs I never peed on any sticks as I was too scared to see what would be on them. I just had the blood tests and made the husband call for the results so I wouldn't have to hear bad news. I would occasionally think there might be cause to go and get a test but usually before I'd even worked myself up to buying one it would become obvious it wasn't necessary. So this whole unbelievable natural pregnancy and stick peeing was a major event. How pathetic is that - peeing on a piece of plastic a major event - this infertility business skews one's sense of what is important somewhat.
The husband, being a man albeit one who is usually pretty astute about these things, had no idea this date was coming up at all. I suppose that is hardly surprising. Whilst the emotional commitment of the man to the pregnancy as a whole and the baby to come is undoubted in the vast majority of cases, given that the physical contribution to the event is pretty fleeting I can see why a man might not be so invested in the exact number of weeks passing by. Its not like I was counting the weeks either - I just knew when 20 weeks should have been and 30 and 40. Still it pissed me off that he seemed to have forgotten entirely. But then it was only another of the things making me cross and miserable these past few days which encompass such things as the guilt of the working mother, the politics of the 4 year old birthday party and the nature of friendships. But I think those better be for another day.
Saturday, 14 June 2008
Time to do a meme or two
I have been tagged for my first meme (hi there Baby Step) and there is another one doing the rounds as well so what the hey I can do two. As I have been in a work/home frenzy this past couple of weeks this is probably the best I can do for a Saturday night.
So first up 6 word bio: slightly exotic, often cross, fiercely loyal
Next one 6 questions
What were you doing 10 years ago?
Living a mile and a half down the hill from where I am now. Working at big money law firm. Liking my colleagues hating but my job. Another year of working too late and starting too early. Starting to worry that getting pregnant was not going to be easy. Getting sick of the fertility monitor. And the highlight of the year 2 weeks on a slightly too small yacht with 3 friends and the husband in the Carribean - blue sky, clear water, dolphins playing in the bow wave and a squall to scare us - fantastic.
5 things on my "to do" list today?
Get my eyebrows threaded - done, goodbye unibrow.
Vacuum - done, my parents are coming tomorrow so need to give illusion of being a grown up.
Washing - again, this chore is never ending.
Revise long term "to do" list - there is stuff on this list that has been there since we moved two years ago like curtains for the main room - Ik.ea £10 jobs nailed up is really not very World of Interiors.
Try and not have my usual Saturday meltdown - failed at that one. This is a thing that is really giving me stress and which I can't really explain but which is making everyone miserable. I think I need a real post to unpick it.
5 snacks I enjoy
Croissants
Cheese
Tapenade and breadsticks
Gherkins - proper eastern european sour ones
Popcorn
Things I would do if I was a billionaire
Easy one this: new modern house ideally with a swimming pool and a big garden; distribute largesse to immediate family; new clothes that actually fit; set up a foundation - I have always fancied my name, or rather both our names, being on a plaque in a museum; give large sums to my rheumatologist's research lab, to brain tumour research and to research on unexplained infertility; and for my husband a 50 foot yacht plus a few more sailing lessons.
Places I have lived
London - born here but moved abroad pretty soon afterwards, came back for university and been here ever since in various points north of the river; allegedly cool town on the South Coast; nasty 60s town just outside London (we try and forget those couple of years); Switzerland; and the bonus ball I doubt you were expecting - Iran.
List jobs you have had
Shop assistant.
Lawyer - big corporate law firm for years; now lawyer in public service.
So there we are memes done. Pretty much everyone else seems to have done them already but if you haven't take this as an invitation to.
So first up 6 word bio: slightly exotic, often cross, fiercely loyal
Next one 6 questions
What were you doing 10 years ago?
Living a mile and a half down the hill from where I am now. Working at big money law firm. Liking my colleagues hating but my job. Another year of working too late and starting too early. Starting to worry that getting pregnant was not going to be easy. Getting sick of the fertility monitor. And the highlight of the year 2 weeks on a slightly too small yacht with 3 friends and the husband in the Carribean - blue sky, clear water, dolphins playing in the bow wave and a squall to scare us - fantastic.
5 things on my "to do" list today?
Get my eyebrows threaded - done, goodbye unibrow.
Vacuum - done, my parents are coming tomorrow so need to give illusion of being a grown up.
Washing - again, this chore is never ending.
Revise long term "to do" list - there is stuff on this list that has been there since we moved two years ago like curtains for the main room - Ik.ea £10 jobs nailed up is really not very World of Interiors.
Try and not have my usual Saturday meltdown - failed at that one. This is a thing that is really giving me stress and which I can't really explain but which is making everyone miserable. I think I need a real post to unpick it.
5 snacks I enjoy
Croissants
Cheese
Tapenade and breadsticks
Gherkins - proper eastern european sour ones
Popcorn
Things I would do if I was a billionaire
Easy one this: new modern house ideally with a swimming pool and a big garden; distribute largesse to immediate family; new clothes that actually fit; set up a foundation - I have always fancied my name, or rather both our names, being on a plaque in a museum; give large sums to my rheumatologist's research lab, to brain tumour research and to research on unexplained infertility; and for my husband a 50 foot yacht plus a few more sailing lessons.
Places I have lived
London - born here but moved abroad pretty soon afterwards, came back for university and been here ever since in various points north of the river; allegedly cool town on the South Coast; nasty 60s town just outside London (we try and forget those couple of years); Switzerland; and the bonus ball I doubt you were expecting - Iran.
List jobs you have had
Shop assistant.
Lawyer - big corporate law firm for years; now lawyer in public service.
So there we are memes done. Pretty much everyone else seems to have done them already but if you haven't take this as an invitation to.
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