You were wanted so much...
Officially a member of a club I never wanted to join 💔
June started out with a bang. The first week of the month we transferred our boy and 9 days later I got my first ever positive pregnancy test! I took a home test the day before my beta so that I was with Mike and we had the day to celebrate or prepare. It was a faint line but it was a line. We were in shock... in a whirlwind of emotions and over the moon. Along with everything else on this journey.... it was short lived. The next day the numbers in my blood work came back low... but it was early so we stayed optimistic. Over the next 10 days and 3 subsequent blood tests we got great news... our levels were doubling and doing what they were supposed to be doing... albeit a little behind. We were praying that it was just a delayed implantation, that if he was anything like his father he was just not too worried about anything... especially making his momma crazy.
Our heartbeat ultrasound was scheduled for my birthday (July 6th) and we were thrilled. Although Covid would be taking another thing from us, Mike being allowed at the appointment. I was slightly terrified to hear bad news alone and sad to not have my partner there to hear our babies heart for the first time. We resolved to FaceTime, from the parking lot, as that was the next best thing.
The Monday after Father’s Day I went in for monitoring. Still concerned about the lacking count, they scheduled an ultrasound for the following day. At 5 weeks along, they wouldn’t be able to see much... but we should be able to see a sack and the start of where our babe would be. I was also told that there was a likelihood we’d see nothing. Mike was scheduled for his CDL test that day and couldn’t be with me via FaceTime so my sister Hannah offered to “come” so I wouldn’t be alone.
My HCG counts should have been around 1000 for 5 weeks.... mine were 163... but I was CERTAIN, based off when I saw implantation bleeding (nearly a week after my transfer and only one day before I tested), that he just took longer to nestle into his home. He was doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing. More than doubling every 48 hours and some quick math in my head told me that if he was in fact 3 or 4 days behind by the end of the week we’d be right on track with that 1000.
The physician’s assistant gently inserted the ultrasound probe... and after a look around to make sure he wasn’t in my tubes, and taking some measurements she started showing me around. She showed me what she thought might be what we were looking for... which on the ultrasound was just a pea-sized black hole. She wanted the doctor to come in and look so I laid the on the table, naked from the waist down, praying. Hannah had snapped some FaceTime photos of the ultrasound so during the wait she sent them to me and I prayed that little pea was all good.
When the doctor came in he was a little less optimistic. He informed me if what we were looking at was what we were looking for... it was small and underdeveloped. He threw around “chemical pregnancy” and “miscarriage” casually and said sometimes they just stop growing. He told me that late implantation wasn’t really a thing in IVF. He wanted me back in 2 days for more blood and if it was continuing to go up we’d decide on if to do another ultrasound Thursday or Friday.
The next two days were agonizing. I convinced myself that he didn’t know anything. Certainly late implantation is a thing. Google said so. Up to 5 days to implant! My embryo was just chilling in my uterus checking out all the sweet spots before he made up his mind where to land. Surely in 48 hours I’d be right where I was supposed to be and all would be well. I emailed my nurse and told her that if my numbers continued to rise I’d rather wait until the following week for an ultrasound so we’d have more to look at since I was CERTAIN I was just behind.
48 hours later, at 7:30 in the morning, I was back for bloodwork.... I wasn’t sleeping anyway so my 40 min ride to Farmington at that time was welcomed... a 5 minute blood draw and then back in the car and then I have to wait until after 1pm for a call.
When my phone rang I instantly heard my nurse Deb’s somber voice. “I’m so sorry Heather... your HCG has dropped to 29... unfortunately this confirms our fear of a miscarriage” my heart sank.... Mike made eye contact with me from the kitchen as I shook my head “no” and tried not to entirely break down. I asked a few more questions about what would happen next, what would I experience, when can we try again and I hung up.
The last 5 days have been a fog. I’ve had my moments where I break down and moments where I just feel nothing. That night we got the news, while folding laundry, I made it to the “IVF DAD” shirt Mike wore for our transfer and sobbed. Big, wet, heaving sobs. The kind that are ugly and you can’t move your hands away from your face because you know it’s so twisted and distorted. Because so much fluid is flowing from your eyes that it’s better to just keep your hands there, filling with tears, than to have them completely drench your chest. My husband rocked me and and assured me we’d try again.
It hasn’t felt real yet... because until today there were no signs that the life I had only just began to carry had slipped away. Until today, there were no cramps, no tinge of fresh blood. Until today.
Today I join the ranks of the not only the 1 in 8 who struggle with infertility, but also the 1 in 4 pregnancies that end in miscarriage. We will try again. Until then we keep waiting for baby Wirsing.
Our heartbeat ultrasound was scheduled for my birthday (July 6th) and we were thrilled. Although Covid would be taking another thing from us, Mike being allowed at the appointment. I was slightly terrified to hear bad news alone and sad to not have my partner there to hear our babies heart for the first time. We resolved to FaceTime, from the parking lot, as that was the next best thing.
The Monday after Father’s Day I went in for monitoring. Still concerned about the lacking count, they scheduled an ultrasound for the following day. At 5 weeks along, they wouldn’t be able to see much... but we should be able to see a sack and the start of where our babe would be. I was also told that there was a likelihood we’d see nothing. Mike was scheduled for his CDL test that day and couldn’t be with me via FaceTime so my sister Hannah offered to “come” so I wouldn’t be alone.
______________________________________________________
As I sat waiting in the room I was terrified. The PA came in and gently explained what we were going to do.... what we’d hopefully be looking for, along with the notion that there really was most likely not much to see...
______________________________________________________
My HCG counts should have been around 1000 for 5 weeks.... mine were 163... but I was CERTAIN, based off when I saw implantation bleeding (nearly a week after my transfer and only one day before I tested), that he just took longer to nestle into his home. He was doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing. More than doubling every 48 hours and some quick math in my head told me that if he was in fact 3 or 4 days behind by the end of the week we’d be right on track with that 1000.
The physician’s assistant gently inserted the ultrasound probe... and after a look around to make sure he wasn’t in my tubes, and taking some measurements she started showing me around. She showed me what she thought might be what we were looking for... which on the ultrasound was just a pea-sized black hole. She wanted the doctor to come in and look so I laid the on the table, naked from the waist down, praying. Hannah had snapped some FaceTime photos of the ultrasound so during the wait she sent them to me and I prayed that little pea was all good.
When the doctor came in he was a little less optimistic. He informed me if what we were looking at was what we were looking for... it was small and underdeveloped. He threw around “chemical pregnancy” and “miscarriage” casually and said sometimes they just stop growing. He told me that late implantation wasn’t really a thing in IVF. He wanted me back in 2 days for more blood and if it was continuing to go up we’d decide on if to do another ultrasound Thursday or Friday.
The next two days were agonizing. I convinced myself that he didn’t know anything. Certainly late implantation is a thing. Google said so. Up to 5 days to implant! My embryo was just chilling in my uterus checking out all the sweet spots before he made up his mind where to land. Surely in 48 hours I’d be right where I was supposed to be and all would be well. I emailed my nurse and told her that if my numbers continued to rise I’d rather wait until the following week for an ultrasound so we’d have more to look at since I was CERTAIN I was just behind.
48 hours later, at 7:30 in the morning, I was back for bloodwork.... I wasn’t sleeping anyway so my 40 min ride to Farmington at that time was welcomed... a 5 minute blood draw and then back in the car and then I have to wait until after 1pm for a call.
When my phone rang I instantly heard my nurse Deb’s somber voice. “I’m so sorry Heather... your HCG has dropped to 29... unfortunately this confirms our fear of a miscarriage” my heart sank.... Mike made eye contact with me from the kitchen as I shook my head “no” and tried not to entirely break down. I asked a few more questions about what would happen next, what would I experience, when can we try again and I hung up.
The last 5 days have been a fog. I’ve had my moments where I break down and moments where I just feel nothing. That night we got the news, while folding laundry, I made it to the “IVF DAD” shirt Mike wore for our transfer and sobbed. Big, wet, heaving sobs. The kind that are ugly and you can’t move your hands away from your face because you know it’s so twisted and distorted. Because so much fluid is flowing from your eyes that it’s better to just keep your hands there, filling with tears, than to have them completely drench your chest. My husband rocked me and and assured me we’d try again.
It hasn’t felt real yet... because until today there were no signs that the life I had only just began to carry had slipped away. Until today, there were no cramps, no tinge of fresh blood. Until today.
Today I join the ranks of the not only the 1 in 8 who struggle with infertility, but also the 1 in 4 pregnancies that end in miscarriage. We will try again. Until then we keep waiting for baby Wirsing.
