Slightly more than doubled.
I'm trying hard not to get my hopes up, but I'm having a hard time. DD found an hpt and figured it out, then let it slip at a superbowl party at my inlaws. We didn't want to say anything to them until we had a better idea of what to expect. Oh well, what's done is done.
I go in tomarrow for another beta. Prayers are welcome.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
No really, here we go again.
Monday was my test day, but seeing as we were in Disneyland on vacation, I skipped the beta. I took a hpt, and got a super faint line (stupid of me) and spent the rest of my trip scanning the pee stick checking if there really was a line there or not. 3 more hpt's all with faint lines, and I still questioned. Today we got home and I was finally able to go in for my beta.
It was positive (I will spare you the depressing details of the number) but it is right on track to where my numbers were in April when I miscarried. Looks like we may be repeating.
Beta #2 on Saturday. More to come...
Wish I could be excited.
It was positive (I will spare you the depressing details of the number) but it is right on track to where my numbers were in April when I miscarried. Looks like we may be repeating.
Beta #2 on Saturday. More to come...
Wish I could be excited.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Loyal Lurker, Crappy Commenter
So this is my apology to everyone.
I can't even tell you all how much I love to read your blogs. I laugh with you, and cry with and for you. Everyday.
I start my blogging escapades before I leave for work, starting with Niobe, and then I move to Dee, and then I head to work. On my lunch break I make my way down the list of blogs on the left hand column of mine, and usually end up finding at least 3 more fascinating people, who put me to shame with their incredible writing.
Serioulsy, EVERYDAY!
So, I apologize for reading and not commenting. I can never find the way to tell you how much your words mean to me... because honestly, I suck at this. Thank you for letting me into your IF world so that I don't feel so alone. I will try harder to comment, but please know that I am always thinking of you.
Loves!!
I can't even tell you all how much I love to read your blogs. I laugh with you, and cry with and for you. Everyday.
I start my blogging escapades before I leave for work, starting with Niobe, and then I move to Dee, and then I head to work. On my lunch break I make my way down the list of blogs on the left hand column of mine, and usually end up finding at least 3 more fascinating people, who put me to shame with their incredible writing.
Serioulsy, EVERYDAY!
So, I apologize for reading and not commenting. I can never find the way to tell you how much your words mean to me... because honestly, I suck at this. Thank you for letting me into your IF world so that I don't feel so alone. I will try harder to comment, but please know that I am always thinking of you.
Loves!!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
It's that time!
So, seeing as Christmas is next week, I figured I should do a little holiday baking. I made the sugar cookie dough yesterday after I took the Munchkin to school so that it would be ready to bake when she got home.
Most of the day was spent cleaning (surprise) and getting everything in place for the baby. My belly started tightening around 1 o'clock, but I figured it was just Braxton Hicks as usual, and perhaps I should save the vacuuming for DH when he got home. I didn't want any lectures... you all know how he worries. I was so sure that it would be just another day, seeing as when I had my checkup Tuesday, I was dilated to a 2 and still 70% effaced, just like last week. Obviously this baby wasn't ready to come until next week... or so the Dr. guessed.
Well, after I picked up my Kiddo from school, I made her sit and do her homework as I rolled out the cookie dough so she could cut it into all the fun shapes that make sugar cookies so great. As we worked, I started to feel nauseous, so I started to get a little worried. It wasn't until then that I noticed that my belly had been tightening pretty regularly for the past little while, so I figured I'd better call DH.
As we pulled the last batch of cookies from the oven, DH arrived and we headed to my MIL's to drop off our Munchkin. She was so upset that she couldn't come with us to the hospital, but we assured her we'd call as soon as we knew anything, and with that we left for L&D.
When we got there, they hooked me up to all the fun monitors, and we watched the printed waves pitch high and steady. By now, it was really starting to hurt. I was definitely in labor! Then the nurse checked me. 6! I was at a 6! I was so glad that the Dr. made me pre-register "just in case".
I was determined that I wouldn't use an epidural (I didn't want one last time either) but about an hour later, I couldn't take it anymore. The contractions were coming so fast and HARD! I couldn't talk through them, and I had to remind myself to breathe. I just kept rocking in the rocking chair there in the room, hoping that it would progress things faster so that I could just get it over with.
After the anesthesiologist gave me the epidural, (such a strange sensation!) I just sat back in bed and watched in amazement the peaks on the printout tell me when I was contracting. I sat there for a while, just trying to focus on anything but the fact that I would soon be pushing a small person out a VERY small place. The nurse came in and checked me, and I had dilated to an 8, completely effaced. She was a little worried that my water hadn't broke yet, so she called the Dr. in (he was there for another delivery down the hall) and he decide that we needed to break it with that little hooky thing. Ya know, that extra long crochet hook thing... the one that looks like it very well could puncture my lungs at the same time as breaking the bag of water! Yikes! But, lo and behold, right as he was ripping the sterile paper off the hook, my water broke on it's own. I guess is just needed to be scared into submission. It must have been pretty scared, because that's when it freaked out my uterus, who then panicked and started contracting what seemed like every minute. Forget the epidural, even it couldn't take away ALL the pain my uterus was shelling out. About 1/2 hour later I started to feel a crazy amount of pressure so I sent DH to get the nurse. She told him that there was "no way" that I would be ready to push yet, but that she'd come check me in a minute. When she got there, I was a mess... totally freaked out and wanting to push... HARD! So.. of course just because there was "no way" I could be at a 10... I was at a 10! She got everything ready, called for back up (and the Dr.) and started having me push. All the fear was gone. I just wanted to push... it's all I could think about. It was so crazy!
Exactly 27 minutes later, at 11:33 pm, our precious angel was born. When I heard her cry, the flood gates opened and I lost it. After 5 1/2 long years, all the IF, and a pregnancy that seemed to last forever... She was here. She was so small, and yet her arrival was paramount for us. I didn't want to let her go, even an hour later. The nurses were all so great, and didn't take her from me until I was ready. 7 lbs. 3 oz. and 20 1/2 inches long. Perfect!
It was so funny. While I was holding her, I called the Munchkin and told her that her baby sister was here. She was so excited, but not nearly the reaction I thought I'd get. She happily said "Oh really? Is that her in the background? She sounds cute!". My MIL told us she'd bring her up, so I let the nurses take the baby to the nursery, and they moved me from L&D to the postpartum wing. When the Kiddo got there I bawled again. When she saw her sister, her face lit up and she grinned from ear to ear. "Can I hold her right now?" she asked. So, we made her sit down and DH placed her sister in her arms. She looked at her so lovingly, and was so gentle with her. She spoke so softly to her, most of the time, we couldn't even hear what she was saying. I can only imagine. It was the perfect moment. My 2 angels together at last. It couldn't have been more gratifying, and awe-inspiring.
So now, as I wait to be discharged this afternoon... I remembered that there are about 3 doz. sugar cookies at home waiting to be decorated. Like I said... perfect!*
At least this is how it might have gone if my baby had lived. Here's to empty arms, broken hearts, and missing angels.
Today was my due date.
Most of the day was spent cleaning (surprise) and getting everything in place for the baby. My belly started tightening around 1 o'clock, but I figured it was just Braxton Hicks as usual, and perhaps I should save the vacuuming for DH when he got home. I didn't want any lectures... you all know how he worries. I was so sure that it would be just another day, seeing as when I had my checkup Tuesday, I was dilated to a 2 and still 70% effaced, just like last week. Obviously this baby wasn't ready to come until next week... or so the Dr. guessed.
Well, after I picked up my Kiddo from school, I made her sit and do her homework as I rolled out the cookie dough so she could cut it into all the fun shapes that make sugar cookies so great. As we worked, I started to feel nauseous, so I started to get a little worried. It wasn't until then that I noticed that my belly had been tightening pretty regularly for the past little while, so I figured I'd better call DH.
As we pulled the last batch of cookies from the oven, DH arrived and we headed to my MIL's to drop off our Munchkin. She was so upset that she couldn't come with us to the hospital, but we assured her we'd call as soon as we knew anything, and with that we left for L&D.
When we got there, they hooked me up to all the fun monitors, and we watched the printed waves pitch high and steady. By now, it was really starting to hurt. I was definitely in labor! Then the nurse checked me. 6! I was at a 6! I was so glad that the Dr. made me pre-register "just in case".
I was determined that I wouldn't use an epidural (I didn't want one last time either) but about an hour later, I couldn't take it anymore. The contractions were coming so fast and HARD! I couldn't talk through them, and I had to remind myself to breathe. I just kept rocking in the rocking chair there in the room, hoping that it would progress things faster so that I could just get it over with.
After the anesthesiologist gave me the epidural, (such a strange sensation!) I just sat back in bed and watched in amazement the peaks on the printout tell me when I was contracting. I sat there for a while, just trying to focus on anything but the fact that I would soon be pushing a small person out a VERY small place. The nurse came in and checked me, and I had dilated to an 8, completely effaced. She was a little worried that my water hadn't broke yet, so she called the Dr. in (he was there for another delivery down the hall) and he decide that we needed to break it with that little hooky thing. Ya know, that extra long crochet hook thing... the one that looks like it very well could puncture my lungs at the same time as breaking the bag of water! Yikes! But, lo and behold, right as he was ripping the sterile paper off the hook, my water broke on it's own. I guess is just needed to be scared into submission. It must have been pretty scared, because that's when it freaked out my uterus, who then panicked and started contracting what seemed like every minute. Forget the epidural, even it couldn't take away ALL the pain my uterus was shelling out. About 1/2 hour later I started to feel a crazy amount of pressure so I sent DH to get the nurse. She told him that there was "no way" that I would be ready to push yet, but that she'd come check me in a minute. When she got there, I was a mess... totally freaked out and wanting to push... HARD! So.. of course just because there was "no way" I could be at a 10... I was at a 10! She got everything ready, called for back up (and the Dr.) and started having me push. All the fear was gone. I just wanted to push... it's all I could think about. It was so crazy!
Exactly 27 minutes later, at 11:33 pm, our precious angel was born. When I heard her cry, the flood gates opened and I lost it. After 5 1/2 long years, all the IF, and a pregnancy that seemed to last forever... She was here. She was so small, and yet her arrival was paramount for us. I didn't want to let her go, even an hour later. The nurses were all so great, and didn't take her from me until I was ready. 7 lbs. 3 oz. and 20 1/2 inches long. Perfect!
It was so funny. While I was holding her, I called the Munchkin and told her that her baby sister was here. She was so excited, but not nearly the reaction I thought I'd get. She happily said "Oh really? Is that her in the background? She sounds cute!". My MIL told us she'd bring her up, so I let the nurses take the baby to the nursery, and they moved me from L&D to the postpartum wing. When the Kiddo got there I bawled again. When she saw her sister, her face lit up and she grinned from ear to ear. "Can I hold her right now?" she asked. So, we made her sit down and DH placed her sister in her arms. She looked at her so lovingly, and was so gentle with her. She spoke so softly to her, most of the time, we couldn't even hear what she was saying. I can only imagine. It was the perfect moment. My 2 angels together at last. It couldn't have been more gratifying, and awe-inspiring.
So now, as I wait to be discharged this afternoon... I remembered that there are about 3 doz. sugar cookies at home waiting to be decorated. Like I said... perfect!*
At least this is how it might have gone if my baby had lived. Here's to empty arms, broken hearts, and missing angels.
Today was my due date.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
A Piece of Me
Waiting for an Angel
Disappointment on a timeline
it's feeding all my fears
2 by 2 and 4 by 4
the months pass into years.
'Cause I'm waiting for an angel
I keep praying for the sign
I'm hoping for the time to come
to see that second line.
The empty space that lives in me
is longing for a chance
to escape its shame, to prove its worth
and feel love's creation dance.
Another round, my heart feels cold...
the calendar resets,
A ticking time bomb starts again
I try hard to forget
That I'm waiting for an angel
a miracle to come,
An answer to my daughter's prayers...
so I won't feel so numb.
And when He finally answers me
and I recieve my call,
my heart will soar and faith will reign
only joyous tears will fall.
'Cause I'll be waiting for an angel
I'll feel new life begin
a precious gift that's sent to me
I'll know that hope again.
I'll feel my Father's warm embrace
and know he's there with me
He'll lay perfection in my arms
at last I'll come to see...
That even in those darkest days,
when hope eluded me
He was working on a masterpiece
and he'd remembered me.
-----------------------------------
Even though I struggle with this blog, it is possible for me to occasionally put my feelings into words. I wrote this in an IF journal that I started about 2 years into trying. Every once in a while when I'm feeling brave, I open its pages and remind myself of why I keep doing this.
Every month it seems that I can't help but voluntarily torture myself with grandios daydreams of what I will do when, THIS month, there is no lonely line but instead, the glorious site of two lines starting back at me. How will I tell DH? How we will tell our parents; will we tell anyone at all? And then there's my cruelest vision... how our daughter will finally get the answer to her prayers.
Once another weight of 'failure' is added to my shouders, this entry tends to be the one I go to. I wrote it during one of the darkest times in my life. My daughter had seemed to grow up overnight, leaving behind any ounce of baby she had left in her. My husband was not yet in the pits of IF depair, but was instead at the point of "You're overreacting. Everything is fine." Everyone treated me as if I was so selfish for wanting another baby so badly. How dare I when I already had a beautiful little girl and there were so many still waiting? I felt more alone than I ever had, and the only outlet I had was my journal.
The finished entry surprised me. I had meant for it to be dark and depressed; exactly how I was feeling. Somehow, it didn't go that way. Before I had finished, I felt buoyed, hopeful, and like I actually had something to gain from all I was going through. Somewhere within me, deep deep down, there was still a bit of hope.
So now, when I'm feeling low and defeated, I sometimes pull out this poem and remember that I'm not finished yet. One day I WILL see what my heart longs for most; My beautiful daughter holding a miracle with a smile on her face that the whole world will take pause to see.
It will be SO worth the wait!
Disappointment on a timeline
it's feeding all my fears
2 by 2 and 4 by 4
the months pass into years.
'Cause I'm waiting for an angel
I keep praying for the sign
I'm hoping for the time to come
to see that second line.
The empty space that lives in me
is longing for a chance
to escape its shame, to prove its worth
and feel love's creation dance.
Another round, my heart feels cold...
the calendar resets,
A ticking time bomb starts again
I try hard to forget
That I'm waiting for an angel
a miracle to come,
An answer to my daughter's prayers...
so I won't feel so numb.
And when He finally answers me
and I recieve my call,
my heart will soar and faith will reign
only joyous tears will fall.
'Cause I'll be waiting for an angel
I'll feel new life begin
a precious gift that's sent to me
I'll know that hope again.
I'll feel my Father's warm embrace
and know he's there with me
He'll lay perfection in my arms
at last I'll come to see...
That even in those darkest days,
when hope eluded me
He was working on a masterpiece
and he'd remembered me.
-----------------------------------
Even though I struggle with this blog, it is possible for me to occasionally put my feelings into words. I wrote this in an IF journal that I started about 2 years into trying. Every once in a while when I'm feeling brave, I open its pages and remind myself of why I keep doing this.
Every month it seems that I can't help but voluntarily torture myself with grandios daydreams of what I will do when, THIS month, there is no lonely line but instead, the glorious site of two lines starting back at me. How will I tell DH? How we will tell our parents; will we tell anyone at all? And then there's my cruelest vision... how our daughter will finally get the answer to her prayers.
Once another weight of 'failure' is added to my shouders, this entry tends to be the one I go to. I wrote it during one of the darkest times in my life. My daughter had seemed to grow up overnight, leaving behind any ounce of baby she had left in her. My husband was not yet in the pits of IF depair, but was instead at the point of "You're overreacting. Everything is fine." Everyone treated me as if I was so selfish for wanting another baby so badly. How dare I when I already had a beautiful little girl and there were so many still waiting? I felt more alone than I ever had, and the only outlet I had was my journal.
The finished entry surprised me. I had meant for it to be dark and depressed; exactly how I was feeling. Somehow, it didn't go that way. Before I had finished, I felt buoyed, hopeful, and like I actually had something to gain from all I was going through. Somewhere within me, deep deep down, there was still a bit of hope.
So now, when I'm feeling low and defeated, I sometimes pull out this poem and remember that I'm not finished yet. One day I WILL see what my heart longs for most; My beautiful daughter holding a miracle with a smile on her face that the whole world will take pause to see.
It will be SO worth the wait!
Sunday, November 9, 2008
And here I sit...
Well, actually I should have said "lay".
It has been 11 days since my surgery. I have layed on this couch almost 24 hrs. a day, for 11 days. And, being the lucky gal that I am, I have 10 more days to go!
So here's what happened:
I went to the doctor because my foot has been hurting for a while now, and I noticed that the bump on the side of my foot seemed to be getting larger. He took x-rays and then told me that a bone in my foot had shifted 16 degrees, causing the huge bump, and it was starting to form a bunion.
What I was actually seeing was the head of the bone that attatched to the joint of my big toe.
The cause you ask? Well, that would be my lazy ligaments. When I was younger I thought that being hyperflexible was a great thing; I never broke a bone (I would just bend instead), tumbling was a breeze, and I could paint my toenails with my foot facing me. Seriously, how could this be bad??
It's bad. Truly.
Now, as an adult, I have 3 bulging discs in my back and flat feet (which caused the bone to move) to show for my lazy ligaments.
So it was surgery for me. Of course it didn't go as planned. The bone had shifted much farther than he initially thought (apparently I was supposed to put all my weight on my foot during the x-ray. Go fig'.) causing him to have to take more bone out to correct the curve, and he even had to take a wedge of bone out of my big toe to make it straighten out. Lovely.
But wait... there's more.
This past Wednesday, just when I had weened myself off the pain killers (I'm paranoid of becoming addicted), and was starting to feel better... I developed a rash on my tongue, and white spots down my throat. I went to the doctor who told me that I have thrush (caused by preventative antibiotics my surgeon had me on) and a bunch of ulcers (caused by a virus) that are occupying my esophogus. Lucky, LUCKY me!
So, here I lay... with a heavily bandaged left foot, downing medication and counting down the days until I can FINALLY get the pin removed and hopefully walk again. (Oh, I didn't mention the lovely green headed pin sticking out of my foot that the doctor will remove sans anesthesia? Silly me!) The ability to swallow comfortably would be nice too, but I don't wanna push my luck.
It has been 11 days since my surgery. I have layed on this couch almost 24 hrs. a day, for 11 days. And, being the lucky gal that I am, I have 10 more days to go!
So here's what happened:
I went to the doctor because my foot has been hurting for a while now, and I noticed that the bump on the side of my foot seemed to be getting larger. He took x-rays and then told me that a bone in my foot had shifted 16 degrees, causing the huge bump, and it was starting to form a bunion.
What I was actually seeing was the head of the bone that attatched to the joint of my big toe.
The cause you ask? Well, that would be my lazy ligaments. When I was younger I thought that being hyperflexible was a great thing; I never broke a bone (I would just bend instead), tumbling was a breeze, and I could paint my toenails with my foot facing me. Seriously, how could this be bad??
It's bad. Truly.
Now, as an adult, I have 3 bulging discs in my back and flat feet (which caused the bone to move) to show for my lazy ligaments.
So it was surgery for me. Of course it didn't go as planned. The bone had shifted much farther than he initially thought (apparently I was supposed to put all my weight on my foot during the x-ray. Go fig'.) causing him to have to take more bone out to correct the curve, and he even had to take a wedge of bone out of my big toe to make it straighten out. Lovely.
But wait... there's more.
This past Wednesday, just when I had weened myself off the pain killers (I'm paranoid of becoming addicted), and was starting to feel better... I developed a rash on my tongue, and white spots down my throat. I went to the doctor who told me that I have thrush (caused by preventative antibiotics my surgeon had me on) and a bunch of ulcers (caused by a virus) that are occupying my esophogus. Lucky, LUCKY me!
So, here I lay... with a heavily bandaged left foot, downing medication and counting down the days until I can FINALLY get the pin removed and hopefully walk again. (Oh, I didn't mention the lovely green headed pin sticking out of my foot that the doctor will remove sans anesthesia? Silly me!) The ability to swallow comfortably would be nice too, but I don't wanna push my luck.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)