Tuesday was bittersweet. We feel incredibly lucky and blessed that our embryos and my uterus get along so well, of course, but when we went for celebratory sushi we ended up also talking a lot about A and C. How happy we were to be expecting them, how sad we are that we didn’t get to keep them, and how we worry about the second trimester with Strawberry Baby (on top of the first trimester that everyone worries about).
It may seem like we dwell on the past, but I think it is necessary for us. This all happened less than a year ago, it was our very first pregnancy and we were so excited. Now, excited, but cautiously. But we do have a lot of hope for this baby, and push our doctors harder to take any concerns seriously – although given my history, I think they will do that anyway.
It was my husband who coined the term “Strawberry Baby”: during the 2ww, he said he hoped we’d get another Strawberry Baby. When I inquired, he explained that one of our daughters had looked like a little strawberry on the first ultrasound (which I think to this day remains his favorite ultrasound).* In our native language, strawberry starts with an E, so it’s even consistent. Once he noticed that I picked up the term enthusiastically, he was quick to point out that of course he hoped this little one would stay with us much, much longer than the strawberry stage.
And at the same time, we are embracing this pregnancy and celebrating every day. Reading about what Strawberry Baby is doing in the pregnancy book he gave me last year. We have told a few friends and family members as well as my boss (who has been incredibly supportive through everything) and a good mentor. I want serious weekly pregnancy photos (H is a good photographer, but somehow last time wasn’t too interested early on as he figured that’d have time…). I’m still working on a theme though and might pick something else than what I tried yesterday.
* I thought about including that picture here, but decided it’d be too confusing.
Thanks for all your wonderful wishes! It really warms my heart and makes me even happier than I already am.
Beta rose nicely to 644 – “Everything looks very good” were the words from my nurse. If I wasn’t so tired I’d tell you why we call it strawberry baby. But tired is probably good and normal and all, so I just need to sleep more and tell you tomorrow.
To pass the time waiting for my nurse to call, I did a routine experiment. And in the second-to-last step, the solution turned pink – which it never had before.*
Hours (hours) after this, my nurse finally got the results and immediately called: 215. A great, solid beta 14d3dt. I almost feel guilty as so many fellow bloggers have had chemical pregnancies lately, and at the same time I know this was only the first hurdle. But for today, I will celebrate having made it thus far.
* After some random guesswork, my colleagues suspect it was just from the marker I used – but I prefer to think it was my baby saying “relax, Mom”
My brother called to tell me that his girlfriend is pregnant.
The fact that he called (we mostly just text) told me it was something important – good or bad. He really tried to do this in the kindest and most gentle way possible, and he knew this would not be easy for me to hear. But, as you probably know from experience, some news still sting even if transmitted ever so gently.
I was ok on the phone, congratulated them and wished them all the best, asked how his girlfriend was doing (pretty good) and whether they were planning to get married (yes, but later, once the baby is there). But of course this brought up all those ugly infertility feelings: they are younger than we are, they have been together for a fraction of the time we have! (because clearly it works this way) Maybe they weren’t even trying! Add to that the ugly loss feelings: she’s 9 weeks, and they assume they will have a baby in September. Even if I am pregnant now, I will worry about losing the baby until we have reached at least 26-28 weeks (not that it’s “safe” after that, I just haven’t been there, and the likely outcome is better than at 20w). Probably beyond that, too.
I finally burst into tears just before H came back home. We spent some quiet time missing A & C, and being hopeful for this cycle.
Of my three brothers, this is the one I am least close to. Not that we have big arguments or anything, we’re just different. I had told my two other brothers about the FET but not him, and didn’t feel like mentioning it yesterday. The others might have told him, it’s not a secret – but as he didn’t bring it up either I think he might not know.
And yet, there is some sort of silver lining when looking beyond the stings. I grew up in a big family and always enjoyed spending time with my cousins – and, as it looked like neither of my brothers was going to start a family soon, I was a bit sad to think that our children might not have this. Admittedly, much of this thinking was before we lost A & C, so now there is an extra layer of complicatedness. But as I’m really hoping to bring home a baby someday soon, I’d be happy if he or she had a cousin to play with.
Earlier this year, I got an advertisement that I thought was hilarious, in a nerd humor kind of way, and forwarded it to a friend I went to university with. His girlfriend had sent me some text messages after A & C died, so I knew they were thinking of us and trying to stay in touch. His reply included that he just found out he’d be in my city next week, and if there was a chance to meet up for breakfast on Thursday? There was. He wrote back:
Great! Looking forward to seeing you!
Such a common expression, and yet it meant so much to me. Because I’ve noticed that many people are apprehensive of meeting me, meeting us, now. We went to our favorite but rather famous coffee shop – the rule is, whoever arrives first gets in line, and then you still have a while to chat until you actually get to the counter. First we chatted about “normal” stuff – travel, work, etc. But once we sat down with our breakfast and coffee*, he asked how we were doing. If I wanted to talk about that. So I told him about going back to work, where 50% of my colleagues have never so much as said a word about our loss, the family visit for Christmas with its good and difficult sides, and the upcoming FET and our hopes and fears around that. He acknowledged that healing will take a long time, and wished us luck for the FET. And then we went back to talking about other things.
* in case you’re wondering, I had decaf – I’m not sure this actually makes a difference, but I will do the few things I have control over
E thawed well, with all his or her 10 cells, and was transferred this morning. By the same doctor that did our transfer with A & C, who remembered us and expressed his hope that I’ll get pregnant again, but with a better outcome this time. E did show more fragmentation than A & C, but I hope it’ll develop into a beautiful baby regardless:
I took it easy for the rest of the day (my clinic doesn’t believe in bed rest) – napping, knitting on a bench outside, then lying and just enjoying the weather (ok, you may envy me for this one). I have some light cramping, but it seems that may be normal. I went to my post-transfer acupuncture appointment but was quite relaxed even on the way there. I think I was worried that for some reason the transfer wouldn’t happen, so now I’m glad we made it. Work will keep me busy for the next few days, which may be a good thing (though I plan to spend most of that time sitting down listening to other people).
Here’s something we came across on a recent afternoon stroll. I’m taking it as a good sign:
Thanks for all your good wishes! I really appreciate your support. I’m very hopeful, but simultaneously quite scared. Perhaps because I now have a better idea of what we could lose… and what we could gain.
A & C’s due date, February 25/26* will be during my 2ww. Somehow that seems fitting. It would have been a waiting period – theoretically at least, given that they were twins they’d have been early either way, but I never specifically calculated any other date. Now it will be a waiting period, filled with hopeful thoughts for a first step towards bringing home a sibling for them.
For Christmas, H gave me a ring in memory of A & C. We bought it in the same place where we had gotten my wedding jewelery**, and a part of the ring was called “starry sky”. Obviously it was perfect. When I got back here, a few people admired it, but then nobody commented on it for a while – until just before and just after the lining ultrasound. I like to think it was A & C telling us they’re ok with us moving forward.
* even with IVF we didn’t get an exact due date…
** that sounds so fancy and expensive, but in reality I think it was quite modest, or at least appropriately modest for a grad student wedding