Twisted Ovaries

Top 5 Things You Never Think You'll Hear at the Fertility Clinic and OH MY GOD

So I've been thinking about the things I've heard that I never expected to hear at the fertility clinic:

1) Yup.  It's twins.

2) Your uterus is perfect!  It's so fat!

3) If it's ok with you, I'm afraid this scan will have to be an external one, not an internal one.  No need to take your underwear off.

4) Hmmm...looks like you and Aidan need to update your syphilis tests.  (No, neither of us have it, the clinic is just sticklers for having the tests updated every year.)

5) The next time we see you, you'll be bringing the babies in to see us!

6) You'll get to be on the waxy ass bullets until you're 28 weeks pregnant!  (OK, they don't call them waxy ass bullets, but you get my drift).

 

I'm sure there's more, it'll come to me.

So.  Here I am, at 9w2d.  I'm still spotting  lightly (still brown).  I wanted some kind of pregnancy journal to keep track of everything, but not only couldn't I find one for twins (I could just imagine them years from now-What, even then we were just twins, we couldn't have our own books? but they're all Anne Geddes-schmucky-cutesy.  I couldn't bear to write my thoughts and fears in a book that either had a cover with a baby dressed as a pea pod or a pregnant woman smugly rubbing her stomach, not looking nearly as haggard as I do.  So I bought a blank book and started keeping a diary of daily life, including symptoms, the results of my daily morning weigh-ins, and a list of what I eat during the day.

And can I just say that a pack of rhinos in the zoo can't compare with the amount of food I'm eating.

With the exception of one or two days when I fell off the wagon (can you say Cheese Doodles?), I've been eating very, very healthily.  I do have to snack throughout the day, mostly to keep the nausea at bay (it peaks first thing in the morning and at dinnertime, the rest of the time I'm generally ok.)  But when I snack, it tends to be things like yogurt, cottage cheese, crackers, fruit and granola.  I'm being particular about this-I don't see having twins as the chance to eat for three, in fact the books say that even with twins, although I do need to gain about 35-50 pounds (and am currently up 4.5 pounds from my pre-pregnant fighting weight), my daily caloric intake should only be 700-1000 more calories a day than I was eating.

Which, before I got pregnant, I really wasn't eating much.  Yogurt for breakfast.  Sandwich and fruit for lunch.  Healthy dinner.  I was living the life, man, living the life.

So I'm trying to control my diet.  I did freak out one day and HAD to have a Kit Kat, which I ate then regretted once I saw it was 27 grams of fat in that bad boy.  It's true that I am one of those mental types who has struggled with anorexia and bulemia for the majority of her life, but trust me when I say that won't be a problem for me now-there's absolutely no chance in hell I'm starving myself, as there are two others counting on me (plus the nausea won't allow it.)  I just want to have a healthy pregnancy as full of vitamins and nutrients as possible.  So I've bought some ice milk, which is surprisingly very good, tastes just like ice cream, and is loaded with calcium.  And that's ok, because I can't seem to get enough calcium products lately-it's all I want to eat.  Cheese, yogurt, cottage cheese, iced milk, all of them.  It's a huge craving.

Which brings me to my other quandry, and that's what my hormones have on the "avoidance" list.  Suddenly, my "dear God, get those away from me NOW" list is real.  It includes:

- Baco-s (which aren't even bacon).
- Marmite (but I've never liked the stuff)
- Any and all vegetables.

That last one is a real problem for me, because not only should I be eating loads of them, but I'm a fucking vegetarian.  I love(d) vegetables of all kinds (except kidney beans, those are foul and should be banned.  I'm sure they cause cancer.  See?  Should be banned.)  I used to eat veggies all the time, and we had massive salads for dinner several times a week.  Now I honestly have to force myself and my gag reflex to eat a small salad. 

On the symptom front, I have the following:

- Sheer, complete and total exhaustion.  I'm practically narcoleptic.  I'm forever going to look back on my first trimester as "That Period Where I Slept On the Couch All the Time".  The best accompaniment to this sleeping interlude is Charmed.  I've found having it on in the background is incredibly helpful, nothing puts me to sleep like Prue's battling with the demons, and at least I get to avoid Paige's painful, clay-like lip gloss while I sleep.  I can't explain it, I've never really watched that show, but I do sleep like a baby when that show is on now.

- Constipation.  I know, I totally said that wasn't a problem, but it became one.  So I went and got a bag of organic prunes while Aidan was in Stockholm, and without thinking, I ate the whole bag.  Lemme' just say this-if you have constipation, you can probably get by with eating just one or two of the things.  The whole bag, it might be overkill.  The farting was so massive the dog even left the room to get away from me (that fucking hypocrite), but at least it did the trick.  I've now stepped up the amount of water I drink to 4,392 litres a day.  It does the trick.  I'm so sick and bloody tired of water you wouldn't believe it, but my clinic seems to think it's the miracle drug.  Constipated?  Drink water!  Have leprosy?  Drink water!  Convicted felon?  Drink water!

- Depression.  That's right, I got the blues.  To be honest, I also have the typical hormones associated with pregnant people-I go from instant joy to instant tears in less time than it takes Britney Spears to shave her head.  But I am also succumbing to the depression a bit, which is a possible risk if you are someone with a history of depression, as I have.  I'm not really talking much and I've been cancelling on meet-ups I have with friends (which is probably ok, as everytime I leave the house I need a 4 hour nap to recover). I'll keep an eye on it, but maybe there's simply still that element of OH MY GOD to my every emotion, our shock still hasn't dissipated - I'm happy that it worked, but OH MY GOD.   What will my life look like after they're born, OH MY GOD.   I can't believe their little hearts are beating still and they're moving, and OH MY GOD.  Aidan and I are stressed about money, travel, accommodation, and relationships, OH MY GOD.

- Dreams.  Weird, trippy, hippy bizarre dreams. They tend to fall in three categories:

1) sexual

2) nightmares

3) food-related

I have more horny dreams than a teenager, man.  Seriously.  Just last night I combined two of the categories in one and dreamt I was making out with a conquistador made out of baked cheese.

Now that was a good dream.

The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly

Let's start with The Ugly.

The severe right side pains I have been having were most likely my sparkly 2cm big cyst residing in my ovary.  We can say this because it's gone now, and it popping was most likely the cause of my pain.  I am, however, now gifted with a cyst on the left ovary, which is small and slightly different.  It's called a corpus luteal cyst and is apparently a common side effect of pregnancy.   Also, apparently a corpus luteal cyst can be a good thing (I understood it's like a economy sized fridge filled with six-packs of progesterone for the twins to drink, or something along those lines.)

So ok then.

The Good -

Both the twins are moving right along.  Twin 1 measures 22.2mm and Twin 2 a slightly larger 24.4mm.  Their hearts were beating at the perfect rate (they don't tell you what that is here, which is good, because I'm already overwhelmed with info.)  Even more amazing...they were moving.  Twin 1 was swimming.  Seriously.   It was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen, the idea that something resembling a tadpole is swimming around inside of me.  Twin 1 waved its arms, its legs, and just basically got its groove thing going on.

Twin 2 was slightly quieter, but then if you have a noisy neighbor you're likely to be.  It did move around as well, and basically took it easier while Twin 1 was working on its Olympic synchronized swimming routine.  The little heart fluttered away. 

And when she gave me an extra exterior scan to double check the cyst situation (my first EVER.  I have always only had the distinct pleasure of having an internal ultrasound, so an external one tripped me out big time) there they were.  They're now visible via an external scan, too. 

We talked about a lot of things-turns out my doctor frowns upon air travel during the first trimester, but we're booked to go on holiday in a little less than two weeks time when I'm nearly 11 weeks.  The sonographer reassured us that it's a precaution only, as there's no evidence that first trimester flying is linked to miscarriage (it was a little clear she maybe didn't agree with my doctor on the point that we shouldn't fly, which amuses me on an immature level.) So we're still going - as a family, I think we need a break together and I fully plan on taking it very, very easy while the kids wear themselves out with dive lessons and water slides (both of which I will not be doing for the remainder of my human incubation period, before you start to warn me off of them.)

I graduated from my RE today.  It feels like a big deal. 

The Bad -

I do have a bleed in my uterus.   It's actually a rather sizeable one.  It could be the cause of the spotting over the weekend, and if it comes out, it'll be very obvious.  They don't know what causes these bleeds, but best estimate is that one of the sides of one of the sacs came off the uterine wall.  That in itself is rather common an event, and not so worrying.  What is worrying is that some bleeds can indeed threaten one or both lives of the twins.  My options look like:

1) My uterus just absorbs the blood and all is ok.
2) I eject the blood and, although I freak out, all is ok.
3) The bleed ejects, dislodging one of the twins and miscarrying it as it goes.
4) The bleed ejects, dislodging both of the twins and miscarrying them as it goes.

They say there's simply no way of telling what will happen.  What may help is taking it easy and not doing too much, so to say that I'll be on the couch a lot is an understatement.  The sonographer said that the twins have absolutely no sign of being on the verge of miscarriage though, despite the bleed (which is largely located directly beneath Twin 1, with just a bit of the bleed below Twin 2).  In addition, both  Twins seem perfectly located in the middle of the uterus, and they're what's known as "dichorionic" or "diamniotic" twins, which basically means they are fraternal twins that each have their own sac and placental supply, which is yet another key factor in twin pregnancy success (my kids aren't even born yet, and already they're overachievers.  I love them.)

Aidan and I agreed that if the bleeding turns red and/or I have severe cramping, we'll head to the hospital.  Otherwise, we'll try to take it in stride.  I'm trying to downplay my ridiculous superstitions - I'm getting a haircut shortly (so since that will mean two outings out of the house in one day, I'm sure I'll nap all afternoon from sheer exhaustion).  I switched to a new shower gel yesterday (but because my sense of smell is off, that got rejected for yet another new one today).  I didn't wear my lucky socks today.  I'm trying to accept that the fate of my bleeding is not in my hands, provided I don't do anything stupid like rock climbing or slam dancing (and seriously, what are the odds of me doing either of those activities when I'm NOT pregnant)?

We'll wait and see and hope.  My next scan isn't until my nuchal scan, which is about 3.5 weeks away.  I think I may tear my hair out worrying about the bleed. 

But as of today, the twins are a new category-I'm now carrying two fetuses (or is that fetusi?) on board.  They graduated from embryo status today, and so in their honor (and in an attempt to downplay my superstitions), I created a new category for them.

Here's to 6+ more months of success, and the bleed can go fuck itself.

Titles Whip Me

OK, so here I am.

It's Monday.

Spotting extremely light now, and still brown, so hey-could be worse. 

I've had some very bad cramping over the weekend though.  I'm pretty sure there was a frat party in my right ovary, and the fuckers didn't even take the empty kegger home with them when they were done.  Then yesterday the left ovary started feeling all drama queen left out and so kicked up a fuss, so the two ovaries are totally grounded until, say, pre-pubescence, at which point I'll give them their Gameboys back. 

Yesterday the back pain also kicked in, only on the right side, and only in such a manner as to make me feel like an 80 year-old woman with a dozen cats.  I parked my ass on the couch for the day and puttered about off and on, when the back pain stopped hurting. 

Aidan and I discussed it, and we decided not to call the hospital and ask to move the appointment to today.  I know it sounds crazy, but we simply felt thus:  If it's positive news, it will stay positive.  If it's negative news, nothing we do a day early can change it one way or another.

I never expected to become a realist so early on in my life.

As to how I'm feeling, well...I am worried.  Not only worried that something's gone wrong, but worried that if nothing has, this is going to be the shape of the rest of my pregnancy.  I would prefer to not have a fraught, worrying pregnancy.  I would prefer to not feel like everything should be compared to when I miscarried.  I'd also prefer to win the lottery, but we can't have everything.

Symptom-wise the headaches are better thanks to the caffeine.  I've been allowing myself one cup of coffee (heavily watered down with milk) a day.  I'd stopped it, even though it was well below the maximum recommended caffeine allowance a day, but taking it back up has helped the headaches.  The nausea is back.  I'm sneezing a lot (the fuck?).  Still very tired. 

The boobs are still completely normal.

So I dunno.  Maybe the spotting is just sex related, cervix related, nothing related.  Maybe it's something.  We simply don't know and won't know until tomorrow morning. 

In the meantime, a few maintenance things:

1) I've created a new Flickr account which I'll fill with the photos of this cycle and my burgeoning waistline as scans as we hopefully move onwards.  It's a new account, because I don't really want to mix my other blog account with this one (there is that sacred law stating that one shouldn't mix friends, grape and grain, and blogs).  If you're already listed as a friend of my other blog account, rest assured you're not missing out, the same photos will be on this new account.  If you're not in my other account and would like photo evidence that I really do exist and that I'm not actually a 52 year-old man in Ohio jerking your chain pretending to go through IVF, then you can link me at my photo site here and I can add you as a friend so you can view the photos.  If I haven't heard from you before though, in either the comments or via email, then please don't take it personally if I don't add you-I'm a very paranoid chick.  I You know...if you want.

2)  The UK recently published findings, apparently, that alter the way some clinics handle twin pregnancies.  Mine is one of them.  They found that twin pregnancies have a reduced risk of pre-term labor on longer progesterone support, so whereas I was going to get to give the waxy ass bullets up by week 12 of the pregnancy, cyclogest and I will now be friends until 28 weeks.  That's twenty-eight weeks.  TWENTY-EIGHT.  That doesn't include the weeks I've already been on them, prepping my body.  I do feel for those who have PIO shots, but really-you get to walk away from those.  I'll be on pessaries for what feels like the rest of my natural born life.

3) Aidan did not tell his kids yet, but he did tell the friend he was staying with in Stockholm this past weekend about the pregnancy, and by the mere misfortune of me having had an Egg McMuffin Friday before a business meeting, two of my colleagues found out about it too (I started gagging in front of them and had to dash out while frantically grabbing for a trash bag.  Tell me that doesn't scream "Knocked up over here!" if anything does.)  The reactions were overwhelmingly positive and supportive.  His decision to not tell his kids was purely based on the fact that it was still early and I was bleeding, and he wants things to be certain and calm when he does tell them.  I do support this choice, actually. They'll still be in the early crowd of folks who know, and if the pregnancy proceeds ok we plan on involving them all the time if they'd like that (for example, in helping add to the possible baby name list.) We're not telling anyone else before week 12, with the exception of my dad and stepmom (who I am allowed to tell next Sunday on my birthday) and his kids, whom will be told soon.  We will not tell anyone they're IVF babies, because we really don't think it's anyone's business, but I do have a few friends I know who are going through IVF, and I may tell them. 

4) Our estimated due date (EDD) is a date we'll never hit, simply because with twins you rarely reach that 40 week mark that singletons and those inhabiting the "normal" pregnancy world get.  We'll be looking more like 36-38 weeks, but we'll still go by our 40 week mark when we list what our EDD is.   That day is-amazingly-the day that Aidan and I consider to be our anniversary.  That day is my favorite holiday of the year.

That day is October 31st, otherwise known as Halloween.

Day Two of Psycho Knicker Watch

The spotting last night stayed maintained in the hooch unless I went to the toilet, which seeing as I'm not only blessed with a kidney-sized bladder outside of pregnant, I'm pregnant, and I'm freaked out, it was often (someone advised not to make myself sore, and I'm happy to report I've just about succeededin that one.)  Not to give TMI (because that never happens on this site, no) it only showed up when I wipe, but this morning since waking up, walking the dog, and eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes, there is more brown and it's now making its way to the pad I've stuck on for monitoring.

I also had some  bad cramping coming right about from my right ovary last night.  Both the twins are well and truly in the middle of my uterus, all I could think was maybe this was that sparkly new cyst I have riding sidesaddle on my right ovary.  Seeing as I've never had a cyst in my life, if anyone who HAS had one knows, can they sometimes cause cramping? 

Two people did mention sex, and, well, Aidan and I did indeed knock boots Thursday lunchtime.  But it was just a quickie, so I'll be seriously annoyed if my cervix has taken exception to that and will give me a weekend of freaking out because of it.  If my cervix is going to be upset about bleeding, it better be upset about one of those longer sessions, the ones that make you feel like you're in college again, because everyone knows quickies don't count. 

(I'm totally lying-if the bleeding is coming from there I will be fucking delighted because then it's not a Bad Thing and would kiss my cervix, but that's not only impossible, it's icky, too.)

It's true - the A&Es here really don't have u/s, especially the internal kind.  As a kind commenter put it (and my previous ER doc put it) if you're going to miscarry, there's nothing they can do.  My IVF clinic is closed on weekends, and Monday for them is a major retrieval day so I'm sure I won't be able to go in.  I will go to my A&E if bright red blood starts coming, if only so that they can pat me on the hand and tell me I have to wait until Tuesday, but at least I will feel like I am doing something.

As far as other things going on:

- Major, killer migraine.  I've taken a few paracetamol/Tylenol but am not anxious to over-do it, especially when I've got some bleeding. 

- Threw up yesterday.  I've learnt Egg McMuffins and I aren't going to be friends through this pregnancy, and although in non-pregnant life I honestly try to be a healthy chick, I love McMuffins and I am not nor will I ever be ashamed of our relationship.

- I woke this morning and my breasts weren't hurting.  At all.  And the nipples were back to pre-IVF size (aka flat, bored, and wondering what was for breakfast.)  I felt the worst-that happened last time, too, although that happened after the huge red tidal wave between my legs had started.  But then I did stretch out for Dr. Google and found this , which states thus: The good news, especially for those of us who have always secretly longed to be big, busty gals, is that they will continue to grow, and they will eventually stop hurting. In a month or so, you and your guy will have a nice new set of playthings. 

Maybe that point has come for me when they stop hurting, I dunno.  Maybe that chick is right.  Maybe that chick hasn't a fucking clue what she's talking about.  All I know is they stopped hurting at a pretty inconvenient point in time (but I'll be groping myself all afternoon to see if they start hurting again.)

So I don't know what's going on. 

All I know is the bleeding has nearly stopped (hopefully for good.)

The headache is killing me.

The boy comes home late tonight.

I'm so confused and worried, and won't know how things are until Tuesday.

But I found a picture that made me and my many fearing voices be quiet in my head for a minute when I saw it.  I keep clicking on the links to view and try to re-assure myself that that's what's going on inside of me.  I try to tell myself to shut the hell up and just believe, for a change, that this something good can stay.  It doesn't always have to be the sad, soul-wrenching choice in my life.  I found a link of exactly what the twins looked like at their first scan, nearly two weeks ago.  And I found a link to what they will hopefully look like on Tuesday (give or take a few days), because even though I am terrified they've jumped ship, maybe they believe in me enough to prove me wrong.

(Be advised that they're real pictures, in case pictures of embryos upset you or you're going through a difficult time.)

PS-thanks for being here for me, honestly.  I'm sorry if this all feels like a bad soap opera pilot, I just really can't miscarry again.  Your comments are very kind and soothing.

Twenty Seconds From Meltdown

I said I was worried about it, didn't I?

I was so scared, I was mentally bracing myself, and here it is: I was napping on the couch and woke up and peed, and I'm spotting. 

It's brownish-red. 

I'm home alone, Aidan's still in Sweden until tomorrow night and there are no ultrasound options to tell me if this is absolutely nothing or not until Monday when the Early Pregnancy Unit opens up again.  I've been down this road before and it makes me shake with horror that it could happen again.  All I can do is try to stay calm and not freak out that the same thing is ocurring, that it's party over, that they're gone.  I know that I have two lovely heartbeats.  I know that some bleeding can occur in many (maybe even most) normal pregnancies.  I know that brown blood is ok, but my spotting has that "any minute now I'm turning all red" feeling.  I know my chances of miscarriage are low.  I try to tell myself all of this, wrapping it up like a cashmere mantra.

Anyone up there?  You listening?  Can you help a girl out and let all this be nothing?  Please?

I've Got to Keep on Movin'

Aidan is off to Stockholm today for his kids' parent-teacher conferences.  I'm not going because:

1) I'm not a parent, I just play one on TV.
2) His ex-wife and I hate each other like Lindsay Lohan and, oh, everyone else in Hollywood.
3) Aidan needs some alone time with them from time to time (we both think, anyway)
4) He may or may not be breaking the news to them about the pregnancy, and we both agree it's something he should do alone.

He wants to wait to tell them until after the first trimester - he's a very, very cautious guy and very superstitious when it comes to pregnancy.  I second it, actually, and with the exception of my father and his kids, I also support not telling a single person (so far in our real life, the only person that knows I'm pregnant - with twins! - is my therapist.  Please - as though I could NOT talk about this pregnancy in therapy.)  We both worry about jinxing it, but the problem is we're going away with them in a few weeks and I'll probably be showing by then.  It'd be an unhappy start to the holiday - "Hey, kids!  Isn't this exciting?  We're off to Jamaica!  Oh-and Vanessa's pregnant!  With twins!  Pass the jerk chicken!"

I ordered two necklaces for his kids for him to give to them when he breaks the news.  It maybe sounds dumb, but I think it's important to have something physical, so he can tell them that they are the greatest priority in his life, he will never stop loving them even a little bit, and if they start to feel doubtful they have physical proof they can look at if they can't get to him on the phone for reassurance.  But the fucking things haven't arrived, his flight is this afternoon, and so he'll have to present them later. 

In the meantime expect much blogging from me, because I'm feeling pretty nervous.  Tuesday I woke up and my boobs hurt less, so I started to get worried that things were unsticking - it was made worse by the fact that I didn't need a nap on Tuesday, and I always need a nap.  The full-day nausea has mostly disappeared, and now it only comes and goes in little waves especially if I just keep grazing, which seems to keep it at bay. 

But yesterday I started having cramps (after a morning of light aqua aerobics and some grocery shopping) and so I parked my ass on the couch to rest and wound up napping for over 3 hours.  Maybe I was simply overdoing it yesterday.  I still have some cramps today and I'm on constant panty check - the cramps aren't bad period pain-like cramps, they're just plain old period pain-like cramps (and I'm the kind of chick that usually suffers from period cramps that feel like I've gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson, so by comparison this is a walk in the park), and the knickers continue to reveal crotch snot of epic proportions (no wait!  Come back!  Don't let that gross you out!)  I'm absolutely terrified that I'm going to start bleeding while he's away, I'll have to take myself to A&E and they won't be able to scan me and by Monday it'll be all over.  I'm trying to be positive and not think that way, I tell myself I'm simply being paranoid and replaying the past in my head of when I did miscarry.

DUMBASS! my inner voice screams (my inner voice is ever so polite) Just because you had one bad event doesn't mean it'll always end that way!

I'm trying to dial it down.

It's true I was told that based on the health, size and location of the twins I'm up to a 98% chance of this pregnancy continuing.  I also  barely ventured out to Dr. Google (because every other site with him contains the "M" word) and it says cramping is normal in your 8th week, as the uterus is stretching.  Still, it's freaking me out.

So expect me to be around.

PS-weirdly, my statistics showed an "Image Crisis Control" company hitting up my website.  I looked them up and apparently they help people retain a positive image in the face of scandal.  I don't know why they'd be coming here, but they've been here a few times.  I just want to say this to them - you're too late.   I already came out and told everyone I shot a suppository out of my ass.  If you're trying to save my image, well, that ship has sailed.

Otherwise Known as Getting Coat-Hangered on the School Playground

As a couple, we're still struggling off and on here.  We had a long period of non-arguments which was popped last night by another argument, which results in the usual-going to bed angry (fuck YOU, Tom Cruise), me feeling forlorn and meek and cooking and cleaning (Bree and I have a lot in common in that respect), him looking mellow and angry, and both of us wondering what we can do to get to the next level, whatever the hell that level is.  So really, it's all good here.  It's harder still when I get some spiky emails and the one or two blog posts I've seen judging my situation also really make me want to put it all out here.

To be clear, I blog because I need to get things out.  I never said it was beautiful.  I never promised that this site would resemble a toilet bowl of Rainbow Brite poop.  Regarding my life, I post the wonderful and I post the awful.  I promised myself a long time ago that I would be honest in my writing, and if one person finds this blog who is also pregnant with twins and has a partner for whom that is the single worst outcome in the whole world ever and I can grant her any help, then I will feel some kind of peace.

Enough about that.  From now on, should I have any issues at home I'll probably stick to emailing them to the few people who I have spoken to about what's happening.  You know who you are and I thank you from the bottom of my cold dead heart.

So let's move on.  It's not helping me any feeling like I have to avoid my own website like the plague.  I'm nervous and scared and trying to read everything to find out what's happening with my body and what's going to happen to it as we continue.  I battle with fear every day-I fear having twins.  I fear losing twins.  I fear losing one of them.  I fear I fear I fear.  I'm told this is a common complaint in any pregnancy, infertile or otherwise.  At some point, maybe the fear dissipates and I start to try to just ride the long wave out, but for now I sit around nervously thinking the other shoe could drop at any minute, and Jesus I paid a lot for those shoes.

The visit with the midwife still startles me and it was a week ago now.  In England, you usually meet the midwife from weeks 10-12, and you sit down and begin to prepare what they call a birth plan.  If you're in the IVF boat and you know you're knocked up, then you get a Get Out of Jail Free card to go see the midwife even earlier. 

She sits us down and pulls out a plastic packet the size of the Encyclopedia Britannica (not all the volumes, just the volumes "Aardvark" to "Lepidoptera").  She hands it to me, along with a plastic vial that will get to come packed with my urine every doctor visit from here on.  We start the paperwork, and on every page in huge headers she writes "IVF-TWINS!!!" which gets underlined a thousand times, in case there's any ambiguity about my condition and how I got there. 

The midwife leans in to me.  "I'm afraid with twins you have to give birth in a hospital, you can't have a home birth."

This nearly sends us into hysterical laughter.  The idea of a home birth never even crossed our minds.  I could see it now-boiling water and the cats hiding from all my screaming.  I'd be trying to watch reruns of CSI while Aidan tries to keep the dog from running off with one of the placentas.  Once we calm down, Aidan explains to the confued midwife, "We never even debated a home birth.  We don't have enough plastic sheeting for something like that."

She continues to look confused, but nods anyway. I liked his answer and mentally give him points for being quick.

"I'm afraid that a water birth is also out," she says kindly.

"Oh, honey, a water birth was never in," I reply.   My reproductive organs are not Disneyworld, a turbo jet waterslide that ends in a fabulous crystal blue pool is not an option.  I have zero interest in hiking up into a kiddie pool and dropping the Juniors into it.  I understand that others swear by it and more power to them-in my mind, no land-based mammals that I know of decide to give birth in water, so why would I?  I've always been clear in my mind when it came to my birth choices-I want a hospital birth where they have lots of shiny machines in case something goes horribly wrong, and I want drugs.  Lots of them. I  don't even want to be able to feel the wind on my calves, I want numbness.  I'll need that to recover from the horror that while birthing I will also be following the time honored tradition of taking a dump in front of about 6 people (although apparently with twins comes the C-section chances, which range anywhere from 60-90% depending on where you read the issues.) 

I have to choose a hospital.  This is a no-brainer, my IVF consultant is associated with one of the local hospitals and I was already told by the fertility clinic that he insists on delivering his IVF twins.  He's very clever, maybe a bit brusque for our tastes, but I knew we'd choose that hospital anyway, as it was where I miscarried 6 months ago and they were so incredibly kind there, so caring and supportive, that there really was no contest.

"Do you have a consultant in mind?" the midwife asks.  "I can recommend a few."

It feels so weird to be doing this.  At that point I was 7 weeks pregnant, and already I was planning 30 weeks down the line on who would be sitting ringside at the Babies vs. Vanessa title match. 

"I'd like Mr. X," I replied, naming my doctor (how it works here-you go to medical school and get certified to be a doctor.  You get called "Doctor", until at some point in your career when you have enough accolades or have administed over 100,000 stitches or have enough Frequent Appendectomy Miles or something, you lose the title "Doctor" and go to being called "Mr, Miss, or Mrs.").

"Oh yes, he's very good.  I believe he's an IVF doctor," she replies.

"Yes he was my IVF consultant.  I figure he put them in there, he should be there to take them out," I agree.

So I'm registered.  We're going on holiday with Aidan's kids for Easter, and when I come back it'll be straight into the nuchal translucency, which I learnt is actually an ultrasound measurement that the ultrasound technician does on the thickenss of the neck of the fetuses.  This thickness - done in millimeters - then tells them the probability of our babies having Down's Syndrome, which then tells us if we need to have further testing, if we should sigh with relief, or if we should go ahead and start drinking now. 

I have another ultrasound a week from now, at which point the twins should be almost 9 weeks. 

I'm looking forward to that ultrasound, but I can't really explain why. 

Maybe you know better than I do.

In terms of symptoms, I struggle.  The nausea is better actually, but the exhaustion is incredible.  I don't just want to nap, I need to nap.  Yesterday morning I got up, had breakfast, showered, got dressed, and then took a nap.  I nap on trains, I nap on the couch, I nap at any and every possible moment, I can even fall asleep standing up.   

I have other things going on as well-the skin on my hands and feet are so dry that no matter how many times a day I apply really thick, intensive lotion, they just don't get any better.  I graze all day (mostly healthy foods), but I can't eat as much as I used to-a cereal-sized bowl of pasta that I used to be able to finish now goes unfinished, I just can't fit it all in.  My legs cramp constantly and I battle headaches.  My waistline is beginning to change-I'm down to wearing my most loose-fitting jeans.  Aidan says there's no pouffy stomach there, but I disagree - I think something's happening there.

Also, I cannot stop eating Frosted Flakes (Frosties).  They are the most delicious food in the whole wide world ever.  I love them.  I want to marry them.

So there you have it.

As for me, personally, I still feel very overwhelmed by everything.  I think I would have felt that way regardless of if I was carrying one or two, but two definitely has more of a shocking impact.  I am pretty stressed out by it, and trying to plan and prepare myself for everthing as much as I can, which is ridiculous because nothing can prepare you for bringing home a baby, let alone two of them.  I can't believe my treatment finally worked, when we were close to giving up.  I can't believe I'm having two.  I worry all the time.  I bounce between happiness, fear, sadness, and hope a lot.  I feel like I can't be happy-my partner is so miserable.  I can't be sad-no one understands why I should be.  I can't be worried-it comes across as paranoid.  I can't be hopeful-so many things can go wrong, I do not want to jinx things.  I can't be funny-the situation is serious, I need to treat it as such.  I have all of these emotions, none of which I feel I'm entitled to.

It's an exhausting journey, and I'm only a fifth of the way into it.

I'll be 8 weeks pregnant tomorrow (if they have, indeed, continued to grow, which I think and hope they have). 

Despite what you may read into my writing today, I am grateful for that.

Honestly.

PS-comments are back open now.  I'll keep them that way but will be keeping an eye on them.  If you feel the need to blast Aidan in any way, shape, or form, then I will delete your comment and I will ban you and I will laugh like Margaret Hamilton while doing so.  In other words, you may disagree with him or with me, but I'm kindly requesting you venture out here with kindness and support.  The anonymous blog world seems to strip people of that quality, I've gotten comments from people that are things I would NEVER say to a friend or a stranger, and I'm hoping that the seedy element of unkindness was a knee-jerk reaction only.  I'm sorry if I come across as a harsh censorship monitor, but I really need you to understand-it's a difficult and confusing time for us.

The Day Of

We're still coming to terms with things here, and it's a hell of a shock.  You'd think that in IVF land the unexpected becomes the expected, but in this case that's not true.  My IVF cycle was so haphazard, everything that could go wrong did.  We went into the embryo transfer with literally just enough to transfer and they weren't great quality.  I remember thinking that I was going to be positive even when the embryos, they just weren't that hopeful.

So Google?  You listening?  Tell all the nervous and scared women Googling things like "average grade embryos working" or "snowball's chance in hell + IVF" to come here. I  have a story for them.

Aidan is still working on things, and out of respect for him, our relationship, and the fact that he reads this blog I really need you to not comment about how he should or shouldn't behave.  We are where we are.  Everyone handles things differently and we need to respect each other's fears.  For today I'm going to have the comments closed still, so that he can continue to feel like he's not under attack and that we can work together as a couple.  As the father and as my partner he's in this with me.  We need each other.

Tuesday was a blur.  I know I'm usually over-the-top with sarcasm and irony, but Tuesday has taken my breath away a bit.  I never in a million years expected to see what I did.  I guess I was beginning to bunker down and confront the idea that maybe, just maybe, I would never be a parent at all.  This is the roll of the dice for some.  After all this time, I was beginning to think it would be my cast, too. 

Tuesday when the wand went in the two sacs were immediately obvious to me, and I generally suck at this ultrasound stuff.  I remember thinking: Oh my God.  I even said it out loud.  One little creature was immediately obvious, the other not.  It turns out one is facing one way, the other is heading a different way, but both are positioned smack dab in the middle of the uterus, keeping each other company.

With a turn of the wand, I saw something moving.  I tried to sit up and look closer, it looked like the movement of a tiny jellyfish, a black and white flashing.

"You see that?  That's the heartbeat," the technician said quietly.

I did see it.  I couldn't believe it.  It was so unreal, it was so...well...amazing.  And to just throw something out there to make you vomit, I honestly looked at that and thought it was a fucking miracle, and I don't feel stupid for saying that.

She took measurements of twin 1, who is exactly on target for size and heartbeat.  She then worked on twin 2, who is also on target for size and heartbeat.  I saw the little heatbeat there, too.  I remember thinking: Oh my God, they're alive.  I'm a cynical and jaded chick in real life, not least in IVF, and to see that just floored me.

We were instructed to meet with a midwife and our GP on the same day, and we did so.  We're not yet discharged from the RE-we have to go back for another scan on March 27 to check on how things are, and once discharged I go straight to a high risk pregnancy unit, as multiples are considered high risk.  By the sounds of things and based on the schedule the midwife gave us, I'm going to be scanned about every 5 minutes for the next 7 months and that's ok with me.  With a family history of high blood pressure and pre-eclampsia I'm also going to be constantly monitored with lab tests and doctor check-ups. 

The midwife kept saying "Your babies".  I felt like a truck had hit me, it was entirely too much for my little brain to cope with.

The lab tech had said that based on the measurements, sizes, and heartbeats, that the two of them looked embedded for the long haul.  She said she honestly wasn't worried that they were going anywhere.  The midwife said the same-based on my scan and my paperwork, she said I now have a 98% chance of this pregnancy continuing and both babies making it out alive.  In a fertility world of stats, I'll take those odds.  I know lots of things can still go wrong, but somehow, I just believe they won't.

This is difficult for me to talk about, but I won't say that we're happy that we're having twins, although one or both of us may get to that point or somewhere like it from the pure "we get to be parents" perspective.  I'm very happy that both are healthy and on target, and also happy that they are correctly positioned and little heartbeats pounding away.  While I am absolutely choked with emotion over the two heartbeats, I am also absolutely, compeletely and utterly terrified of two.  Aidan is even more so.  It's just so big, having twins, and not something to be taken lightly at all.  It is a very major thing, twins, and if we took it with brevity and ease I'd worry that the shock of when they're here would be traumatic in the extreme.  The risk of twins is one thing-the reality is another. 

It does not mean I am not grateful and feel so floored by seeing a heartbeat, I absolutey am and it's something I never thought I'd see, but it's a lot to take in right now.  Imagine how it is-you're an IVF veteran who is beginning to head towards the end of trying.  You might even be at the end, you're getting worn out.  Your relationship pays a price, you pay a price, your body pays a price (speaking of which, I am not only packing twins, I'm also now packing an ovarian cyst which will be under observation for the pregnancy too) and you start thinking that you may need to make peace with your future.  You have had the worst cycle in the history of your worst cycles.  You have just enough to donate and potentially ruin a woman's chances with, when surely she was hoping to receive two or three times as many eggs as you gave her.   You have two of four fertilize.  You have just those two, and they're average grade. 

Then you get a positive.

Then you pass the point where you've previously miscarried.

And you stay pregnant.

And then you see the jellyfish on the monitor, and you can't believe that's inside of you.

I know this is where a lot of people may stop reading.  I understand, I really do.  When I was going through IVF, I would often have a hard time here, too.  If you stop reading, then thanks for being around for a while, I really mean that.  If you keep reading, then I honestly thank you for staying. 

I took off my lucky bracelet yesterday, as it got me where I needed to be.  I may give Aidan back his USB stick now.  I needed luck to get to heartbeats, and while I still need luck to get through it all, I will never forget the view on the screen. And for now it's day by day, as we try to make peace with what's happening, and with each other.

I imagine that if I could hear them, the heartbeats would sound like George Jetson's space capsule. 

I imagine if I put their heartbeats up to my face, they would feel like butterfly wings.

The News

You think the day you go for your first scan should be a joyous, celebratory day.  You read about other women brimming with hope and love and wonder, their husbands crying with happiness, the women amazed and in tears of incredulity.  You think that will happen to you.

Then it doesn't.

Instead, a bomb goes off.  After a vicious row in the car we're not even speaking.  I'm a trembling, sobbing, frightened mess and he's a raging, accusative, frightened mess.  Neither of us can reach the other right now. 

I don't know what to do.

We went for our first scan and we did not see a perfect little blob, measuring exactly on target with an absolutely perfect heartbeat.

Instead, we saw two.

Join Me in the Nutella Brigade

I've been waiting a long time.

A long fucking time.

This whole roller coaster kicked off the 5th of January, and it's still going.  If I'm being really literal about it all, my amusement park journey actually started in 2000, with early infertility discussions.  I've been strapped in, buckled up, with the bar firmly down since then.  I've had 5 cycles, donated eggs to two women, and am heading down the final corridor of giving this a try. 

And now I'm farther along than I have ever been (6w6d today) and I honestly feel like this is my best shot. 

Tuesday I finally get my scan.  There's nothing to tell me that it's not working, in fact considering the point that I am Mrs. Homer A Symptom, I think it's a pretty good indication that things are very positive.  I've never had pregnancy symptoms to this degree before, ever.  I couldn't be more textbook, to the point where I had to look up "pregnant goosebump nipples" because not only can I play Radio Tokyo with these things, I have these weird goosebumps on them (called Montgomery's glands, and apparently in some pregnancies they get more pronounced.  That'd be me then.)

I'm conscious of the fact that it seems like most of blogland is falling pregnant right now, and many are falling pregnant on Round 1 of IVF.  Yes, there are some negatives (and I really feel for you if it's you), but in general it seems like most people are just looking at a syringe and then getting a heartbeat.  And that's the thing, the positives seem to be followed up by heartbeats in no time.  I remember last August when I had a positive-I was also in a group that had positives and they all went on to heartbeats, and I got to be The Statistic.  You know the one, there has to be a negative reaction for that many positives, and I got the short straw.  Does this mean that - despite my massive symptoms - I'll be The Statistic again?  After 5 rounds of IVF and a painful 2006, am I always going to be the short straw girl?

I know the universe does not "owe" me.  I know that in the grand scheme of things, this many IVF attempts means nothing - some people get to be parents, some don't.  If this round fails I will be sitting back and doing some thinking - while I can't bear the idea of not being a parent for the rest of my life, I also couldn't bear another miscarriage.  Life is (to me) a more beautiful place with children in it.  IVF is also very hard on both me personally and on my relationship-although we're a very strong couple we do struggle when it's cycling time, and while I don't think another cycle will break us apart, at some point we have to start living life in such a way that we don't argue so much.

I honestly do feel positive, though.  When I bounce the question around in my head, I do think that it's working this time.  I know it can all go horribly wrong, that truthfully I could have nothing going on inside of me but since progesterone really does seem to keep me from menstruating, it's only a matter of time.  I just don't believe that's the case. 

I've been waiting a long time for this scan, which is coming on Tuesday.  I've been exhausted, light-headed, pukey, nauseous, and headache-y.  I've had restless leg, crazy dreams, night sweats, enormous and painful boobs, food cravings that vanish after 5 minutes, enough mucus to film Ghostbusters III and I've won the Extreme Nipple Competition.  I've had every symptom possible...but at the end of the day, it's what happens on Tuesday that matters. 

I do imagine it's working, too.  We're going on holiday with Aidan's kids in April, I imagine myself pregnant there. In the summertime, I imagine myself pregnant.  As fall approaches, I imagine myself pregnant still.  For the first time, I can see it happening to the end, and that's something new, too.  Women get pregnant all the time and don't think twice with this kind of worry, why can't I join that group, too?

So Tuesday.  In my heart of hearts I would like to see something measuring right on target at 7w1d, with one strong and perfect heartbeat.  I'd like to hug my RE and graduate.  I'd like to finally feel I can break down and buy a fucking pregnancy book even, just so I can know what's going on without feeling like I'd jinxed it.  And yes, things can still go wrong after that, but inside I feel that if I can get past Tuesday, I can get past it all.

Here's to Tuesday.

Join me in the Nutella Brigade, as we eat our way towards hope?