Here we go again…
I don’t know why I had in my head that I could plan out a second kid pretty easily with the help of IVF, but I did. I thought it would be a quick phone call, few medications, defrosting of an embryo, then voila. (*I will always worry about a pregnancy sticking, but I was not worrying about the beginning part until I actually started getting the wheels in motion)
When Phoebe was almost a year old, I was thinking how nice it would be to get baby number two in the oven. We met with our wise doctor and he told us that the golden window (best chance of success) is between 14 and 24 months after giving birth. That meant that it would be wise for us to wait until February 2023 at the earliest. In March, I called the doctor to ask to start a new cycle for a frozen embryo transfer. Turns out you can’t just get back in the game without a sonohysterogram (an ultrasound to check that there are no abnormalities in the uterus). They can only do this between days 6-11 of your cycle, which pushed things back another month. The following month, I had terrible allergies. We decided that since I could not take allergy pills while doing IVF, that I should wait a month to start a cycle. I called on the first day of June, and was told that the clinic was closing their lab so no transfers could take place for three weeks which meant I’d have to wait until my next cycle. When I called at the beginning of my next cycle, I was told that the lab was still closed and likely not opening until August. My husband received his second tearful phone call from me as I told him that I wasn’t going to get to go in for another month (at least).
If there’s anything I’ve learned over the last five years, it’s that spending time with God is so much easier when you have tangible unmet needs. When I’m flying on fumes from my 5 years of prayers being answered even more than I could imagine, it’s not easy, natural, or particularly tempting to seek out God. It is easy to thank Him and praise him for the amazing gift of Phoebe, and I don’t think I will ever stop thanking Him. However, praising and pleading are very different and after going through 3 strikes of bad news, I find myself needing and pleading to God. I need my Father.
It is because of God that I can say “thank you” for not letting me get my way. If you’re going through a situation where you did not get your way, where it feels like your needs are not met, I encourage you to think about your true needs. God has met mine. He continues to meet my needs. My wants are another story! He is the only one who can truly remind me of His faithfulness, goodness, patience, and love.
After praying and working on coming to terms with another delay, my miracle-working-pushy husband managed to speak with a few different people and got a call saying we could proceed on day one of my next cycle (which literally happened THE DAY AFTER THIS PHONE CALL). I mean…. Thank you God! This is all happening while my sister is pregnant and I was really hoping to have another baby close to hers.
IVF Take Two - What to Expect
I don’t know about you, but once you’ve been through it once, certain details leave your memory and you think “Did I really do this last time?!”
I went in for bloodwork/Ultrasound (BW/U) on day 3 of my cycle. They told me to take birth control pills while I was on vacation then come back for BW/U two weeks later. So day 17 I was back. The night before I looked at my medication schedule and realized I was supposed to STOP birth control three days earlier. I had a mini freak out and after my mother and dear friend told me it’s not worth worrying about, and God is in control, I came to terms with the fact that there was nothing I could do to go back in time, and that I just had to wait until the morning to ask the doctor.
“An innocuous error” - the doctor’s words. Whew! Such a relief to hear. He said that stopping it would give me a period (forgot that detail), and so two days later I didn’t panic when I went to the bathroom and discovered it had arrived. Looking back, this may have been a godsend of a detail, because if I had started bleeding without knowing I was SUPPOSED TO BE, I definitely would have had more of a freak out. I definitely have PTSD from this subchorionic hematoma.
Thankfully, this innocuous error apparently wouldn’t change the tentative transfer date, but they just pushed back my start date for the estradiol pills.
I went in between once and twice a week for bloodwork and ultrasounds in the month of July. August 4th was my transfer date, and August 14th was my “we find out” date.
Pregnant!
This was my dad’s birthday. I told him I might have an extra special gift for him, but there were no guarantees. Thankfully, the phone call from the IVF clinic was a congratulatory one, so when I facetimed my sister with a thumbs up, I got to see all of their reactions as they sat around the lunch table. After losing 4 babies at 8, 10, 11, and 15 weeks, it’s hard to have the same joyful excitement as others. I definitely do not view this news as a guaranteed baby in the spring. However, I choose to rejoice at each step of good news.
Freak Outs
Almost 10% of women who’ve had some kind of complication during pregnancy find themselves meeting the full criteria for PTSD. When you’ve lost a baby or two (four in my case), you have likely gone in to ultrasounds and had devastating experiences whether it be lost heartbeat, defects that are irreversible, or no baby to be seen. For me, I experienced a really bad headache around 9 weeks, and my 10 week ultrasound there was no heartbeat. The baby had stopped growing. So when I got a headache at 9 weeks that lasted over 24 hours, and then discovered concerning discharge the following morning, my mind naturally progressed to the worst scenario. Thankfully, I had an ultrasound scheduled for that afternoon, so my worries could be addressed. Everything looked absolutely fine when I went in. However, I spent hours worrying, stressing, and getting upset. What good did this do? None. I could try justifying it by telling myself that I prepared for the worst so that it wouldn’t be a shock when it happened, but realistically stress is not good for the body, mind, or baby. So how can I prevent this happening in future?
I’ve started seeing a therapist. There is definitely a stigma that comes from telling people this, but let me tell you. After two sessions, I am very thankful to be checking in with someone regularly. Benefits so far:
Accountability: If you know you’re going to be meeting with someone, you cannot go through experiences without taking responsibility for how you acted. This, for me at least, does make me handle situations a little bit differently, knowing I’m going to have to review in future.
Processing help: It helps to review things with a professional removed from the situation. I’ve been able to identify “triggers” and “automatic thoughts” that result, as well as process through best ways to handle things
Practical skills to apply to future situations: My therapist has shown me breathing techniques as well as brain training techniques to prevent me falling into my automatic, negative, worst-case scenario thinking
Homework to keep me on track: This helps keep me focused between sessions
First Bleed 9/29/23
It was a normal Thursday afternoon, we were making Dave’s weightwatchers dinner and I suddenly felt like my body was saying sit down. I had some cramps, and the second I sat down, I felt a warm gush which I knew was not pee. I stood up to go to the bathroom and felt even more of the familiar-yet-forgotten bleeding that can happen in pregnancy. While I could tell myself this happened before, and we made it out with a baby, the cramps were so painful that I was 95% sure I was miscarrying.
Of course, this was at 5:30pm in the evening. I tried calling my doctor’s office, no answer. I sent a text message to the on call nurse and within 20 minutes, we were at the doctor’s office with an ultrasound tech who had stayed late. I call that a miracle! She immediately told us baby is looking good, she saw a heartbeat. What a relief.
She did however, go on to say she can see the cause of the bleed - a 6-7cm subchorionic hematoma. The same thing that put me on strict bedrest with Phoebe, although not as large as the one with her. In what I like to call divine coincidence, Dr. V happened to be at the office. He came down to discuss the ultrasound results with us right away. The SCH was not seen on the scans from 3 days ago, nor the previous week. It must have developed very quickly. As Phoebe kept calling Dr. V “Dr. Seuss” and running around the exam room barefoot, jumping up and down, climbing on and off chairs, he attempted to review the situation.
I was to stop the lovenox and baby aspirin immediately, since they cause you to bleed more. I was also to drink lots of water to help with the cramping, but keep my bladder empty. Dr. V said we know the drill, and this hematoma would either heal or end in miscarriage. He recommended modified bedrest - taking it as easy as humanly possible with no lifting, bending, or stairs. No need for a wheelchair or hospital bed at this time. He did note that this would be significantly harder given that this time around, we have a toddler who will not sit still. I know you’re probably thinking “no toddler sits still”, but Phoebe Ruth is a different breed. She literally sits still for meals when she’s strapped down in her highchair and that’s it. She will not sit on the couch for more than one book reading, we have introduced her to a little TV and she likes to walk around while enjoying interacting with “Ms. Rachel”. She will roll play-doh meatballs while standing up and spinning around. This kind of modified bedrest required something intense.
We had already “transitioned” Phoebe to a toddler bed two weeks prior when we learned of the small SCH I had. This meant I no longer had to lift her. That being said, she was unable to stay in the bed during her nap time in particular. Her 2-3 hour naps became 1-1.5 hours. This is a big punch in the gut to parents. We decided to use a pack and play for naps so that she was confined and safe, since she often would toss/turn then go back to sleep.
That Friday, Dave took the day off work so that he could help with the morning and nap put-down which I usually do. We decided we would do 3 days of very aggressive bedrest, and request an ultrasound the following week to check in on things.
There were certain things that I had just forgotten about from my summer 2021 seventy day bedrest, like how hard it is to rely on/ask others for EVERYTHING, how numb my butt got, how easy my mind wandered, how mentally and emotionally depressing it could be spending all day every day in the same place (although I was alternating between couch and bed this time around), how tired you get from sitting still, and how hard it is to miss out on things. However, this pregnancy is SO desired, that I will sit down and put up with the inconveniences for however long it takes.
We have a VILLAGE. I thank God for everyone He has placed in our lives to love, support, and pray for us. Between our families, church, and neighbors, it took next to no time to come up with a 7 day plan so that Phoebe had someone around to lift her up when needed/go up and down stairs, and support me. Day one Dave’s mom arrived at 7:15am so that Dave could take me to my bloodwork. His dad stopped by later to help with the leak and Phoebe’s lunch. Our 2 day a week daycare lady offered 5 mornings a week if we needed, our neighbor offered for her mom to bring one of Phoebe’s friends over to play for a few hours, another neighbor offered her double stroller so that another neighbor could take her daughter and Phoebe for a walk together. Just amazing how people really come together when someone is in need.
Follow Up
To my surprise, when I called the following week to see when they’d next like to see me (thinking they’d say sooner rather than later), they said I could go in the following week for a heartbeat check. One thing I’m learning throughout these experiences is that I have trust issues. Any time I question what the doctor recommends, or I find myself wondering if everything is going to be ok, I am not trusting the medical professionals, and I am not trusting God. God is in control, and as my mother reminded me, I am in His Good Hands. Dr. V is someone I view as an earthly gift from God. If he doesn’t think I need to be seen sooner, then I trust that.
Upon my two week follow up after the bleed, we met with a new nurse, and as she introduced herself, she explained that Dr. V saved her life after she gave birth and because of him, she became a nurse, and now works for him. If that isn’t a testimony to an amazing doctor, I don’t know what is!
The SCH looked relatively similar in size to two weeks ago. They did an abdominal ultrasound, so made sure to tell us the accuracy might be off. They will look internally next week to see how things appear.
