I feel nothing but inexplicable physical pain. My periods are not like this — I don’t usually even have cramps. The lab opens at 8am, what a hassle it is to go talk to the nosy phlebotomist about loss and procedures that are not on the table for us. I hate her, I think. She can bear the brunt of my rage.
Maybe I do feel something inside. I shouldn’t have read those books about miscarriage as both of them basically said the prognosis was decent for everyone but me. It’s not like I never knew that, but it cast a shade over everything. What the fuck am I thinking, putting my husband and I through this seemingly never-ending hell of loss and infertility? Maybe I’m overmedicated — I just feel so numb, an automoton that reaches for a thermometer before she opens her eyes everyday, pops pills, and refuses to leave the safety of her home.
What the fuck am I thinking?
The nosy phlebotomist never showed up. Aside from being nosy, she is also the only phlebotomist. So much for that…there are other labs but I don’t care enough to go to one. I shall go tomorrow, if it strikes my fancy.
Maybe this very early loss wasn’t chromosomal? Maybe my uterus is just fucked up after my d&c and there was some sort of implantation failure? Who knows, who cares. I can hope it’s not aneuploidy, which would increase my odds of having another miscarriage — but once I get to the big 4-0 in July, I have a 50% chance of miscarriage just factoring in advanced maternal age, and not factoring in my history of pregnancy loss which at this point is becoming fairly extensive.
In Coming to Term, which of course is out of date, the author says that live birth rates for RPL ladies improve simply by receiving supportive care (frequent visits with the doctor, learning relaxation techniques and mindfulness, etc.). Now I feel like punching everyone who has informed me that stress causes miscarriage, but for me “stress” means full blown panic and panic attacks, heart pounding and inability to breathe all day, so it’s hard not to wonder if this has an deleterious effects on my pregnancies. Of course, babies are conceived and birthed in war zones and the stress of early pregnancy after loss, or even early pregnancy after several losses, is not going to impact an inherently chromosomally abnormal embryo that has been doomed from the moment sperm fertilized the egg. In that case, stress or no stress means diddely-squat.
I wonder about my first miscarriage after losing Molly, the one we didn’t test the chromosomes for. I was in a sheer panic the whole nine weeks, gasping for breath, feeling my heart flutter ominously, unable to eat or sleep or do much more than listening to cheesy guided meditations to pass the horrible hours. I was abruptly changing my medications as well…I remember trying to sign release papers to allow my psychiatrist to consult with my psychiatric obstetrician and I screwed up the paperwork three times before finally going to Outpatient Psychiatry and having them walk me through it — I was so panicked I literally could not figure out how to complete the simple forms correctly. Was all that anxiety the cause of that particular miscarriage, and not aneuploidy? I’ll never know, but secretly suspect it had some effect.
The point is, I am not going to receive any sort of supportive care to help me carry to term if my ovaries ever spit out a good egg. I like my OB, but I’m just another number at The Baby Factory, my therapist is awesome but I feel she doesn’t know how to handle the emotions that come up in pregnancy after RPL, and my psychiatrist has bubbles for brains.
Sigh. People have volunteered to donate eggs, but none of their eggs are really top shelf (they’ve all been AMA women, one of them post-menopausal and another a genetic carrier so they wouldn’t even be allowed). Sweet gestures, but DE IVF is not a financial possibility for Geoff and I.
In other words, I am fucked. But I keep going.
I thought chemical pregnancies would end in a maybe-slightly heavy period. This is so painful. Not as painful as the night between the two days of my D&E (second trimester abortion), when I had laminaria sticks shoved in my cervix and later, misoprostol in my cheeks, but I’m definitely incapacitated by cramping. I have a fairly high tolerance for pain…my little cat has joined me on the couch and I’m comforted by his presence, but wish I could be comforted by a big ole shot of Dilaudid instead. Okay, maybe that’s overkill. But I have definitely become leery of what further torture my reproductive organs may bring in the future, and I’ve definitely considered walking to the weed shop to see if marijuana is actually good medicine for cramps (I believe it does have medicinal uses but have never used it medically myself). I won’t though…since Geoff and I met in recovery, I’d be too embarrassed to let him see me stoned and I get paranoid so I’ll probably be freaking out that he’ll make fun of me.
I’ve become very anxious that something is going wrong. Maybe since I never get cramps I’m just being a huge crybaby? I don’t want to call the doctor because I don’t want to actually go to the doctor — that place is trigger city and I’m scared to get even more bad news there. If I’m still hurting tomorrow to the point I’m considering treating myself with grass (apparently there are strains that help without making you stoned but I’m too paranoid — I’d die of embarrassment if my husband witnessed me all giggly and wanting cookies), I’ll call, and if it gets worse tonight will go to urgent care or the ER. I think it’s too early to be an ectopic? They said they couldn’t tell yet. It feels like cramps in my uterus, just bad ones.