My nurse from the OB office called back early the next morning (December 23rd). My HCG level was 225 which she said was good and more or less "fit" with my calculations that I was 5 weeks along. Phew. But then came the bad news: my progesterone was 12.8 which was much below the desired goal of 20. At this level, my miscarriage risk was 40-50%. Another possibility was that this pregnancy could be ectopic. She wanted me to start Prometrium (a plant-based source of progesterone), which has been deemed safe in pregnancy, and then repeat my blood work on Monday, December 26th. Her goal was that my progesterone level would double every 48 hr initially to get me back into the normal range. She instructed me to stay off my feet and watch out for any heavy bleeding or one-sided pain. If I were to experience either of these over the Christmas weekend, I was to go to the ER immediately, tell them I'm pregnant and request an ultrasound. Perfect. Just how I'd been dreaming of spending Christmas in Bellingham.
I was sort of in a daze; it all feels like a blur. I managed to ask the nurse the plaguing question: "Will taking the Prometrium preserve a pregnancy that shouldn't be, that my body is naturally trying to get rid of?" I dreaded her answer but was somewhat relieved (although that feels like the wrong word) to hear that if I was going to lose this baby, I would lose the baby. I also asked whether my progesterone was low when I was pregnant with Isla since I had also experienced some spotting to a milder degree with her. No, it had been just fine. Normally, being that I'm in the medical field, I would have researched Prometrium a little bit to make sure I was comfortable with the pros and cons. But this time, I didn't even think twice. I filled the prescription and started taking it.
On top of my progesterone issues, the nurse informed me that my thyroid hormones were off (my TSH was 3.91 with goal being <2.5, my T4 was fine at 1.2). This was not entirely surprising to me given that I consider myself "hormonally challenged" in general. I considered it a miracle that I made it through my pregnancy with Isla without having to increase my thyroid medication dose. This time around, I wasn't going to be so lucky. An new prescription for an even higher dose of thyroid meds was called in.
We proceeded on with our Christmas plans and headed up to Bellingham, attempting to act as if all was normal. I wanted to tell my family the news since I wasn't sure how on earth I'd lay around all weekend (basically modified bedrest) and let them chase Isla around without them wondering why I was being such a lazy bum. Graham, however, wanted to wait and so covered for me by stepping up and helping out with meal prep/clean up while I casually laid around. I was SO EXHAUSTED and went as far as to attempt a nap one day which I later found out, as I expected, totally blew my cover. My mom just doesn't miss a beat! Thankfully she didn't ask questions.
I attempted to enjoy Christmas festivities but I'll admit with subdued excitement. It was sort of like I had this lingering black cloud over my head. I wanted to be excited. I wanted to celebrate. But I remained reserved. On the 26th, we headed down to Pullayup for an extended family celebration at my aunt and uncle's. We spent the night (since we were en route to Oregon the next day) and so I had my OB call in my repeat blood tests orders to a lab down there so as not to ruin our travel plans. I woke up super early to sneak off to get my blood drawn before any of the rest of the family woke up to ask questions.
The week felt eternal with so much waiting! The results finally came back on December 29th: my HCG had climbed nicely to 3281 and my progesterone was now in a normal range at 31.5!! I think we both breathed huge sighs of relief. My nurse asked if I wanted to do another repeat test to make sure everything was trending in the right direction but we declined. She reminded me again to stay off my feet until the bleeding stopped and then said we could call if we had any other concerns.
January 3rd rolled around and I was still bleeding. At this point, I'd been spotting on and off since December 17th, nearly 2 1/2 weeks prior. I decided I'd best call my doctor just to let him know that the bleeding continued despite my now-normal progesterone. Ha! "Just to let them know...." Of course rather than brushing it off, this elicited a whole flurry of activity and phone calls. They wanted me to go immediately to Overlake Hospital for an urgent, walk-in ultrasound. Thankfully, Graham was working so I just called him and asked him to come down to imaging to be with Isla and I. I needed his support, but I didn't want him to miss seeing our baby for the first time. First the ultrasound tech looked at and measure my kidneys and other organs (which seemed to take FOREVER!) Finally, after a bit of nerve-rattling searching, she located my uterus. In it was a tiny little spot with very faint flashing--a baby with a heartbeat!!!!! Hooray!!!! She also mentioned seeing a yolk sac and commented that the baby was measuring about a week younger than the 6 1/2 wk dates that we'd calculated.
I received a call later in the day stating that the radiologist had read the ultrasound as completely normal and that they could find no obvious reason for the spotting. More good news!! We hoped and prayed that the whole scare would soon be behind us and that a perfectly healthy baby was growing inside....
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Turns out, I only get pregnant in December (i.e. the back story)
I've come to the conclusion that these kinds of things never happen the way you imagine. I thought for sure that the next time I discovered I was pregnant, it would be a 100% joy-filled, jump-up-and-down-with-excitement kind of experience. And actually it sort of was for the first half hour. Graham was at work and I'd taken a pregnancy test earlier in the week only to have it come up negative. Now it was December 22nd and we were leaving for Bellingham in the morning to begin Christmas celebrations. But I just had this feeling. The day before, I'd been sitting on the couch a 3 PM and thought to myself, "I could fall asleep right now! I think I need a nap." I should have known right then and there because I do not nap. Period.
So I got up when Graham got up for work, stumbled into the kitchen and mumbled some lie about "needing a drink" when he asked me why I was up (he'd strictly forbidden me from taking any more tests). Then I ran back up to the bathroom, locked the door and took another test. One pink line. Sigh. "I'd thought for sure...weird. Wait, is that a faint second line? Or is that just the faint outline of where it should be if it were there? I don't remember being able to see that when I took previous tests. Maybe buying tests from the Dollar Store was not the best idea?" I kept telling myself "Negative is negative, you'll just be disappointed if you keep taking these tests."
And so began my Thursday, a supposedly boring Thursday. But I just knew. So Isla and I ran some last minute errands which included a quick stop at Fred Meyer for a more name-brand test, ya know, just to be sure. I figured I'd buy one last fool-proof test that would report the results as either "pregnant" or "not pregnant" and put the issue to rest. After treating myself to a cup of half caff and a walk along the Kirkland waterfront, we went home so Isla could nap and I could "just make sure."
I took the test and continued my preparations to hop in the shower. I made myself not look at the test until I was sure it was finished, but only made it a minute before I couldn't bear it anymore. I glance up. Pregnant! Squealing and shrieking and exclamations of "I knew it!!" commenced and continued throughout the day. I am a more firm believer now than ever in that saying "A mother always knows." It's true. She does know.
I was SO excited! I had it all planned out in my head how I was going to tell Graham and it was going to coincide perfectly with Christmas. But then I had my first negative test and was heartbroken. I spent a good chunk of the weekend prior sobbing to Graham that my plans had been ruined. I was so disappointed.
But now, ha! I could still go with my original plan! I got to work immediately, writing little rhymes and creating a revised version of Isla's Dr Seuss book entitled "Summer."
I'd already phoned my OB to set up my first appointment but my in excitement, I'd forgotten about the main purpose of my call: to ask about the spotting. I called again and requested that the nurse call me back. I'd been spotting for 6 days now and initially thought it was my period, which led us to believe I wasn't pregnant (though I still took a test to be sure). I sort of thought the nurse would dismiss it and tell me it was likely implantation bleeding but I should have known better.
When she returned my call, deja vu set in. I'd been through this same, scary process multiple times with Isla. She wanted me to get my blood drawn immediately. She suspected my progesterone level was low which, left untreated, can result in miscarriage. She wanted me off my feet and resting until 3-4 days after the bleeding stopped. My heart sunk. Please no, not this again! The news of pregnancy is supposed to be joyful, not filled with anxiety and fear. I debated whether or not to call Graham but opted not to share the news over the phone while he was trying to finish his last 12 hour shift before Christmas vacation. Plus, I had my little plan.
When Isla awoke from her afternoon nap, I whisked her into the car for a trip to the lab. I wondered if I should have left her with a friend but wasn't sure how I'd explain my reasoning for needing a sitter without spilling the beans. Thankfully, she sat quietly in her stroller through the whole ordeal, watching as her mommy lay on the table to have what seemed like gallons of blood sucked from her arm. It baffles me why they have to take so much blood. I tried to decline some of the tests (like for the STDs) but my doctor's office said I'd have to have them later if I didn't do it now. I knew that wasn't true and that they were saying that to pressure me and this time just I gave in. This blood draw was the part of pregnancy that I was least looking forward to. It was pretty traumatic when I was pregnant with Isla and I almost passed out. Needless to say, I was dreading it. Looking back on it, I wonder why I was so worried. I distracted myself by telling the phlebotomist the whole story of how I just found out today and that my husband doesn't know yet etc etc.
The rest of the day seemed to drag by. There were moments of fear and worry and then moments where I'd jump up and down and shriek "I'm pregnant!!!!" to a confused little Isla. When Graham finally arrived home, he went upstairs to change. I'd set up a hidden video camera which I turned on as he was coming back downstairs. I told him that I'd changed my mind and I didn't want him to open all his Christmas presents on Christmas day; there was one that I wanted him to open now. We sat on the couch and I could tell he was nervous. He said he could feel my heart pounding in my chest and I thought for sure he'd figured out what was going on.
He was a bit confused when he unwrapped Isla's familiar board book but I instructed him to read it aloud to me. He told me afterward that he thought it was going to be a creative way of presenting him concert tickets for a show that was taking place in the summer months. The rhymes on the first few pages hinted at my prior pregnancy cravings: watermelon and Costco frozen yogurt. Then he turned to the page that read "Summer brings us birthdays galore. Why don't we go ahead and add one more?"
"What! When did this happen? Were you faking it the whole time?" He was referring to the week prior when I'd taken a test only to have it come up negative. I was so disappointed and shed many tears, mourning the fact that Isla and our 2nd born would now be more than 2 years apart, that my plan for how I was going to tell him would no longer work (because a pregnancy just a month later meant our baby would no longer be born in summer), wondering if there was something wrong with my thyroid that was making it take longer this time around. He had spent a good while comforting me and telling me it would all be ok. He also knew I'd been spotting all week. Now he was wondering if I'd been acting the whole time.
I told him it'd all happened today but that there were a few hiccups. I'd already called the doctor and they sent me for blood tests. "We should know the results tomorrow." With reserved excitement, we dreamt about the future as we sat in front of the Christmas tree. It was surreal!
So I got up when Graham got up for work, stumbled into the kitchen and mumbled some lie about "needing a drink" when he asked me why I was up (he'd strictly forbidden me from taking any more tests). Then I ran back up to the bathroom, locked the door and took another test. One pink line. Sigh. "I'd thought for sure...weird. Wait, is that a faint second line? Or is that just the faint outline of where it should be if it were there? I don't remember being able to see that when I took previous tests. Maybe buying tests from the Dollar Store was not the best idea?" I kept telling myself "Negative is negative, you'll just be disappointed if you keep taking these tests."
And so began my Thursday, a supposedly boring Thursday. But I just knew. So Isla and I ran some last minute errands which included a quick stop at Fred Meyer for a more name-brand test, ya know, just to be sure. I figured I'd buy one last fool-proof test that would report the results as either "pregnant" or "not pregnant" and put the issue to rest. After treating myself to a cup of half caff and a walk along the Kirkland waterfront, we went home so Isla could nap and I could "just make sure."
I took the test and continued my preparations to hop in the shower. I made myself not look at the test until I was sure it was finished, but only made it a minute before I couldn't bear it anymore. I glance up. Pregnant! Squealing and shrieking and exclamations of "I knew it!!" commenced and continued throughout the day. I am a more firm believer now than ever in that saying "A mother always knows." It's true. She does know.
I was SO excited! I had it all planned out in my head how I was going to tell Graham and it was going to coincide perfectly with Christmas. But then I had my first negative test and was heartbroken. I spent a good chunk of the weekend prior sobbing to Graham that my plans had been ruined. I was so disappointed.
But now, ha! I could still go with my original plan! I got to work immediately, writing little rhymes and creating a revised version of Isla's Dr Seuss book entitled "Summer."
I'd already phoned my OB to set up my first appointment but my in excitement, I'd forgotten about the main purpose of my call: to ask about the spotting. I called again and requested that the nurse call me back. I'd been spotting for 6 days now and initially thought it was my period, which led us to believe I wasn't pregnant (though I still took a test to be sure). I sort of thought the nurse would dismiss it and tell me it was likely implantation bleeding but I should have known better.
When she returned my call, deja vu set in. I'd been through this same, scary process multiple times with Isla. She wanted me to get my blood drawn immediately. She suspected my progesterone level was low which, left untreated, can result in miscarriage. She wanted me off my feet and resting until 3-4 days after the bleeding stopped. My heart sunk. Please no, not this again! The news of pregnancy is supposed to be joyful, not filled with anxiety and fear. I debated whether or not to call Graham but opted not to share the news over the phone while he was trying to finish his last 12 hour shift before Christmas vacation. Plus, I had my little plan.
When Isla awoke from her afternoon nap, I whisked her into the car for a trip to the lab. I wondered if I should have left her with a friend but wasn't sure how I'd explain my reasoning for needing a sitter without spilling the beans. Thankfully, she sat quietly in her stroller through the whole ordeal, watching as her mommy lay on the table to have what seemed like gallons of blood sucked from her arm. It baffles me why they have to take so much blood. I tried to decline some of the tests (like for the STDs) but my doctor's office said I'd have to have them later if I didn't do it now. I knew that wasn't true and that they were saying that to pressure me and this time just I gave in. This blood draw was the part of pregnancy that I was least looking forward to. It was pretty traumatic when I was pregnant with Isla and I almost passed out. Needless to say, I was dreading it. Looking back on it, I wonder why I was so worried. I distracted myself by telling the phlebotomist the whole story of how I just found out today and that my husband doesn't know yet etc etc.
The rest of the day seemed to drag by. There were moments of fear and worry and then moments where I'd jump up and down and shriek "I'm pregnant!!!!" to a confused little Isla. When Graham finally arrived home, he went upstairs to change. I'd set up a hidden video camera which I turned on as he was coming back downstairs. I told him that I'd changed my mind and I didn't want him to open all his Christmas presents on Christmas day; there was one that I wanted him to open now. We sat on the couch and I could tell he was nervous. He said he could feel my heart pounding in my chest and I thought for sure he'd figured out what was going on.
He was a bit confused when he unwrapped Isla's familiar board book but I instructed him to read it aloud to me. He told me afterward that he thought it was going to be a creative way of presenting him concert tickets for a show that was taking place in the summer months. The rhymes on the first few pages hinted at my prior pregnancy cravings: watermelon and Costco frozen yogurt. Then he turned to the page that read "Summer brings us birthdays galore. Why don't we go ahead and add one more?"
"What! When did this happen? Were you faking it the whole time?" He was referring to the week prior when I'd taken a test only to have it come up negative. I was so disappointed and shed many tears, mourning the fact that Isla and our 2nd born would now be more than 2 years apart, that my plan for how I was going to tell him would no longer work (because a pregnancy just a month later meant our baby would no longer be born in summer), wondering if there was something wrong with my thyroid that was making it take longer this time around. He had spent a good while comforting me and telling me it would all be ok. He also knew I'd been spotting all week. Now he was wondering if I'd been acting the whole time.
I told him it'd all happened today but that there were a few hiccups. I'd already called the doctor and they sent me for blood tests. "We should know the results tomorrow." With reserved excitement, we dreamt about the future as we sat in front of the Christmas tree. It was surreal!
Monday, February 14, 2011
"Get out of jail free" card
I was joking around with Graham yesterday that while he's in grad school, we both get lots of "Get out of jail free" cards when it comes to birthdays and holidays, particularly the romantic ones like Valentine's Day. It just seems like these holidays sneak up on us out of nowhere without warning and definitely in the absence of spare time to invest in planning something major. This year in particular has been challenging. Christmas came to an end (just as our new baby adventure was starting) and then came Graham's half birthday, close behind. Friday night was my half birthday followed immediately by Valentines Day. Oh and then our anniversary is in a month. Phew! We've let the holidays kind of slide by without a lot of hoop-la which is sort of bittersweet for me.
Alas, I am an oober-romantic through the through. I love all the red, sappy, chocolate, flowers, whipped cream, lovey-dovey-ness that comes along with February 14th. But then take a look at a snapshot of our week last week:
Sunday--we were involved in the music at both AM worship services at church, hosted a superbowl party
Monday--Graham worked a 12 hr shift, I hung out with Isla all day
Tuesday--Graham worked an 8 hr shift then came home to start paper, I had MOPS & and OB appt
Wednesday--Graham worked an 8, came home to work on paper while I watched Gideon & Isla for 10 hr
Thursday--I worked an 8 hr shift, Graham worked a 12 and then came home to write paper
Friday--I worked an 8, Graham a 12 and then came home to work on paper
Saturday--Graham got up early to finish paper then went to 8 hr class
Enough of the boring, gory details but you get the point! Not a lot of time in there for planning romance. Hence our conversation about getting out of "jail" free (please realize I use this phrase mostly in jest--I'm NOT as high maintenance as you might be led to believe!) I worry that we're going to grow so accustomed to not doing much for these holidays during the grad school years; that we'll never get back to the "old" days where I would wake up in the morning to find a dozen roses, each placed inside a glass coke bottle "vase," assembled together in a wicker basket with a sweet love letter. Or when I would get Graham up before dawn, grab our breakfast picnic of homemade, heart-shaped scones with raspberry jam and cocoa, and go watch the sunrise (which, by the way, would never rise because it is ALWAYS cloudy on February 14th). I love that sort of stuff and deep down, if I'm honest, I must admit that it's important to me. However, I say this will full knowledge of the phase we are in and know that it too will pass.
So today I'm digging deep for some spare energy (I know it's in there somewhere!) and doing my best to bring back the romance. Isla and I just returned from West 4 where we surprised Graham at work with his very favorite pie and a visit from his girls.
We're looking forward to the rest of the day too! :)
Alas, I am an oober-romantic through the through. I love all the red, sappy, chocolate, flowers, whipped cream, lovey-dovey-ness that comes along with February 14th. But then take a look at a snapshot of our week last week:
Sunday--we were involved in the music at both AM worship services at church, hosted a superbowl party
Monday--Graham worked a 12 hr shift, I hung out with Isla all day
Tuesday--Graham worked an 8 hr shift then came home to start paper, I had MOPS & and OB appt
Wednesday--Graham worked an 8, came home to work on paper while I watched Gideon & Isla for 10 hr
Thursday--I worked an 8 hr shift, Graham worked a 12 and then came home to write paper
Friday--I worked an 8, Graham a 12 and then came home to work on paper
Saturday--Graham got up early to finish paper then went to 8 hr class
Enough of the boring, gory details but you get the point! Not a lot of time in there for planning romance. Hence our conversation about getting out of "jail" free (please realize I use this phrase mostly in jest--I'm NOT as high maintenance as you might be led to believe!) I worry that we're going to grow so accustomed to not doing much for these holidays during the grad school years; that we'll never get back to the "old" days where I would wake up in the morning to find a dozen roses, each placed inside a glass coke bottle "vase," assembled together in a wicker basket with a sweet love letter. Or when I would get Graham up before dawn, grab our breakfast picnic of homemade, heart-shaped scones with raspberry jam and cocoa, and go watch the sunrise (which, by the way, would never rise because it is ALWAYS cloudy on February 14th). I love that sort of stuff and deep down, if I'm honest, I must admit that it's important to me. However, I say this will full knowledge of the phase we are in and know that it too will pass.
So today I'm digging deep for some spare energy (I know it's in there somewhere!) and doing my best to bring back the romance. Isla and I just returned from West 4 where we surprised Graham at work with his very favorite pie and a visit from his girls.
Happy Valentine's Day!
Anyway, I haven't been blogging much lately because, well, I've been a bit preoccupied. And I figured my subject matter would be a bit boring, not to mention completely monotonous if I shared what I've been really feeling:
"Today I feel like puking."
"I'm so nauseous right now I could die."
"Blehhhhhh!"
Etc, etc. So if case you haven't caught my drift (or watched the video in the previous post or followed me on Facebook), WE ARE PREGNANT!! And we are so excited about it (despite the negative-sounding quotes above). More details will follow on upcoming posts but for now, HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
McAuliffe Park
Yesterday was another gorgeous day so we spent the afternoon at McAuliffe Park, one of Kirkland's oldest homesteads. The park has plenty of grass to run around in, a barn, windmill, public gardens and a play area. I love just sitting back and watching Isla's little personality emerge. She was quite the explorer! There was not a mole hole or dirt patch that she didn't stomp through. She literally would do everything possible to get off the grass and into the dirt, even if it meant changing directions completely. Honestly, I could have been entertained by watching her all day. She's such a crack up! All this makes me wonder if there isn't just a hint of tomboy under those girlish little curls.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
More thoughts on motherhood
Last night was one of those nights where my heart just swelled to the brim with love for my sweet Isla. I was snuggling with her under a blanket in the rocker and reading bedtime stories and singing songs. I couldn't help but think "Seriously, could this get any better?" The irony in it all was that not 10 minutes earlier, I'd been placing her in front of "the wall" for a time out after yet another dinner ended in intentional food throwing. The way she clings to me for a hug and kisses after a little session in the corner both breaks my heart and mends it completely. This mothering thing rocks my world.
Graham and I had some spontaneous catch-up time on Saturday night that was apparently much-needed and it meant a lot to me. We had friends staying with us for the weekend but they were out visiting another couple and so some alone time randomly materialized after Isla went to bed. I reached for the laptop to catch up on the rest of the world (i.e. log into Facebook) but immediately slapped it closed again when Graham said he needed to cuddle. (For those of you who are worried and about to stop reading, fret not, this ordeal was entirely PG). We talked about how we were feeling about life, what was concerning us, what was hard and what was good. I was caught off guard when a whole mess of emotions bubbled to the surface, emotions that I'd unknowingly been keeping bottled within.
This man is my very best friend and I couldn't ask for a better guy for me! He cares so deeply about every aspect of my life and has had nothing but encouraging things to say about my mothering skills. It has been such a journey already and I feel as though I have grown immensely as a person over the last 2 years. I am definitely learning a lot about myself and would like to think the process is making me more well-rounded (if nothing else, Graham said it has made me more relaxed--halelujah!). It has been joyful and jolting, wonderful and wearing. I realize I am not the first to experience these times of transition and growth. I'm having a really hard time putting this into words but sometimes it seems so weird to me that women everywhere will go through these exact same (or some variation of the same) experiences that I now face. That they too will have to go through highs and lows to get to the point where they will look back and realize "this was hard but really, really good."
I am so thankful for all that God is teaching me, for His provision when it feels like life is nuts, for those precious moments when I look at my daughter and can't help but cry because I just love her so much. And for my adoring husband who knows me better than anyone. I feel so very richly blessed.
Graham and I had some spontaneous catch-up time on Saturday night that was apparently much-needed and it meant a lot to me. We had friends staying with us for the weekend but they were out visiting another couple and so some alone time randomly materialized after Isla went to bed. I reached for the laptop to catch up on the rest of the world (i.e. log into Facebook) but immediately slapped it closed again when Graham said he needed to cuddle. (For those of you who are worried and about to stop reading, fret not, this ordeal was entirely PG). We talked about how we were feeling about life, what was concerning us, what was hard and what was good. I was caught off guard when a whole mess of emotions bubbled to the surface, emotions that I'd unknowingly been keeping bottled within.
This man is my very best friend and I couldn't ask for a better guy for me! He cares so deeply about every aspect of my life and has had nothing but encouraging things to say about my mothering skills. It has been such a journey already and I feel as though I have grown immensely as a person over the last 2 years. I am definitely learning a lot about myself and would like to think the process is making me more well-rounded (if nothing else, Graham said it has made me more relaxed--halelujah!). It has been joyful and jolting, wonderful and wearing. I realize I am not the first to experience these times of transition and growth. I'm having a really hard time putting this into words but sometimes it seems so weird to me that women everywhere will go through these exact same (or some variation of the same) experiences that I now face. That they too will have to go through highs and lows to get to the point where they will look back and realize "this was hard but really, really good."
I am so thankful for all that God is teaching me, for His provision when it feels like life is nuts, for those precious moments when I look at my daughter and can't help but cry because I just love her so much. And for my adoring husband who knows me better than anyone. I feel so very richly blessed.
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