Thursday, September 30, 2010
This blog will be about my numerous unsuccessful attempts at getting pregnant and giving birth to a live baby. I have trouble getting pregnant, I have trouble staying pregnant, and I will most definitely have trouble giving birth after this transabdominal cerclage. In other words, were it not for modern medicine, I would be a hopeless childless woman forever. With modern medicine, I at least can hope that the hopeless childless situation is temporary.
So, prepare for a long long long post in which I will quickly go over everything that has happened so far.
I got married in 2008 to a wonderful man. Six months later, we decided to start trying for a baby, since I wanted to get pregnant before I turned thirty. That was a while ago. I have turned thirty a few times since. And got pregnant a few times since. I have been pregnant THREE TIMES THIS YEAR and it is only September. Still have a few more months to go.
After many many attempts, about ten IUI's and clomid and repronex and superovulation, we landed at the IVF clinic and got pregnant for the first time on the very first IVF. Yes, that actually did happen to me, although it is mostly a blur now. It wasn't even so long ago, a little over one year. At Christmas, when I was coming back home from visiting my parents, at 20 weeks gestation, I lost my mucus plug, and went to the hospital to get checked out.
I had incompetent cervix. I was 5 cm dilated and had no idea. My doctor put in an emergency cerclage, and after the operation confessed that he thought maybe he should just give up, it seemed so hopeless, but hey, what the heck, it doesn't hurt to give it a chance, but that if it worked, it would be an exceptional case. After a week in bed, mostly in Trendelenburg, and many many vicious headaches plus fluid overload later, I went into labour. One night, at 2 am, I woke up with pain that came and went, at one minute intervals, viciously. My doctor came in, and had one look at the membranes that had prolapsed and were hourglassing into the vagina. Hopeless. Asked me if I was ready to give up, and since I was in labour, with a cerclage that was tearing my cervix, I was kind of very ready. Despite the fact that the baby was still moving and was all curled up in my uterine fundus, I had to let go. I listened to the baby's heartbeat one last time before he came in and broke the water. This was my miracle baby, the one I thought I would have in May. The one I would name Adrian, because somehow I felt it was a boy.
After he broke the water, a large gush of fluid washed over my legs, and I still remember thinking wow, this is a lot of water flooding out of me. He could not remove the cerclage, and took me back to the operating room, where I got the first anesthetic for that day. The labour progressed quickly, and in a few hours I was 9 cm dilated. That is when I started hemorrhaging. I had no IV access, and I remember praying that the anesthetist on call find a vein, as he had some trouble initially. I could tell that there was a lot of blood, by the puddle I was sitting in. My obstetrician put his hand in the uterus and yanked the baby out by his legs (he was breech). I was right, it was a boy. He was stillborn. I had a few moments with him, and I can't really write about how beautiful he was, how perfect, how his little hands and feet were so pretty and small. How he had exactly my feet. How much I loved him. How awed I was that we had created this miracle. I took some quick photos with my iphone, and then it was time to go back to the operating room for the second time that day, since I had a retained placenta.
Somewhere en route to the OR I remember saying to my obstetrician, a sweet man about to retire, that I feel so defective, I can't do a single thing right. He replied that that is what we have the repair shop for (i.e. the OR). Now, I am not very fond of the OR. I am very unlucky when it comes to surgeries, as in the past 2 years I have had five visits to the OR, and I ended up with complications from almost each one of them. First, came the laparoscopy, which ended up with an unexpected pneumomediastinum (air in the space around the heart and lungs), which led to me being flown out to Vancouver and admitted to the thoracic ward for a few days (they thought I had ruptured my esophagus, a life threatening condition, which I didn't). The pneumomediastinum went unexplained. Now, after my transabdominal cerclage, I ended up with an infection in the category called BAD INFECTIONS TO HAVE, as they move fast and create havoc. Thank God I caught it early and it backed off, after a few quadruple doses of antibiotics taken within 1 hour of the redness setting in. And no, it is nobody's fault, it simply happens. More often to me, it seems... or maybe I'm just good at keeping track.
After losing Adrian, I was in a state of zombiehood for about 2 weeks. I had chills and could not leave the bed, because the moment my skin would come in contact with cold air, I started shivering uncontrollably. I lost contact with God for a while. I fought with my negative voices that told me I am not like other women, I am a loser, I can't do anything right, my body is defective in a BAD way. I loved my husband and reveled in his love for me, the one thing that kept me going through day after day. Mr. H is one amazing man. I tried to push away the guilt of doing this to him. He did not even want children to begin with (he already had a few from a previous marriage), and only embraced the plan to procreate because of me. Now, he was suffering because of me. He had to cremate his baby because my body failed. What kind of woman does that to the man she loves? Apparently...me.
I learned to stop these voices eventually. I got fed up with so much negative thinking. I felt that I deserved better. I wanted to live a good life for Adrian, and giving in to these critical voices was not the way to do it. I got bored of the constant criticism and eventually started seeing myself with kinder eyes, a woman that loved her baby and loves her husband and did her best. It wasn't meant to be.
Day by day I recovered, and went back to work, to exercise, to...more IVF. In April 2010 I had another (frozen) single embryo transferred, an 8 celled day 3. Nothing happened. Then, one month later, in May, I had a frozen blastocyst transfer. It was a short lived second line on the First Response test. My beta HCG never went above 30, which means a chemical pregnancy. After two weeks of the poor blastocyst hanging on for dear life, it finally gave in to his fate and was flushed down the drain by my reliably nonpregnant body.
Then I got ready for my last frozen blastocyst transfer the way a soldier gets ready for war. I went vegan. I did yoga. And meditation. And acupuncture. And moxibustion. And Traditional Chinese Medicine. And we prayed. A whole group of people prayed for me... and again, nothing happened. I did not get pregnant.
In August 2010, I went through another fresh IVF cycle, and managed to produce 5 blastocysts, the best one of which was transferred back to the mothership. It resulted in another faint second line. I was soooooooooo excited, that I even bought one pair of maternity pants, and when on ebay to look at maternity tops. Before I could even bid on any though, I realized that the line, which was supposed to get darker, was staying the same. I told myself that I was dreaming, there was no way that I was going to have another chemical pregnancy. These things don't happen twice in a row. Apparently, they do. I did have another chemical pregnancy.
Now I have to wait until November to try again. And, since I was bored with nothing better to do, I researched the transabdominal cerclage, and proposed it to my obs gyn, since my cervix is only 2 cm long when nonpregnant and I am worried that a traditional McDonald cerclage will not hold a pregnancy in place. He agreed to place a transabdominal prepregnancy cerclage (for more details, look up abbyloopers in yahoo groups), and the surgery went well, minus the flesh eating details. I am now recovering at home. And here the story. Let's see what comes next.
Posted by MrsH at 5:02 PM