Today is the day I was supposed to start maternity leave. Ah, how lovely that would have been! I would be having a baby in 5 weeks time! I truly can't imagine that, but it would have been real. It was real. Well, it would have been real. It doesn't feel real. Was it ever real?
Or am I dreaming?
I thought I would be a bit of a mess when this day came. But I'm not. I'm fine. I feel normal. I think it's because it all feels like a dream. Not the fertility issues part - I have too many blood tests for that not to feel real. But the 'I was pregnant' part (3 times!!). That part feels like a dream. It feels like it never was. I never got those two lines on that test; I never had those niggly pains in my tummy; I never felt like I had to constantly eat to allay the nausea; I never called our bub 'Pea'; I never seriously thought about baby names; I never started bleeding; I never got that bad pain; I never had that miscarriage... (or 3).
But I did - I did do all those things. It just feels like it was all in a dream.
Friday 24 June 2011
Saturday 18 June 2011
Dig and Delve
So I went to the Fertility Specialist (FS) for the first time the other day. The waiting room was gorgeous - my type of interior decorating for sure. My husband and I decided that only I would go... he had meetings that day, and if this journey ends up long, we need to save as many sick days between us as possible. As I was sitting in the waiting room however, I started feeling a little nervous. I'm not sure why. I guess it's a big step. I regretted not bringing my husband.
I eventually was called, and met my FS, Michael. We went into his room and he got right into it. I had filled out their questionnaires prior to my visit, but it was short notice so they only received them the night before. He hadn't had time to read them and instead asked me some key questions. Didn't ask about my hubby though. He did a quick examination, looked at the blood results which were perfect, didn't seem too concerned about anything at all.
He wrote out a request for both hubby and me to have a karyotype blood test that tests for chromosomal abnormalities and sent me on my way, his parting words being - "go get yourself pregnant!" Well, I don't have any trouble doing that! It was all over and done with in about 10 minutes. It didn't feel complete. It didn't feel important. In fact, it felt a bit... meh. That's the only way I can describe it.
I understand that to him, I'm a fairly non-important case. I may well go and get pregnant and have a perfectly normal pregnancy right away. I am probably one of his most uncomplicated patients at the moment. But to me, it is super important. To me, it's complicated. To me, this is the most important thing in my life right now. I'm not sure what I really want from him. I guess I like hearing people's thought processes. I like doctors to explain EVERYTHING to me that they have deduced from the information I gave them. I like to know all the possibilities that exist that they have ruled out for me and why. I like to know ALL the possibilities that may exist for me, no matter how remote the chance (because hey, three miscarriages is a remote chance but it still happened)! I'm not sure whether that sort of thing will come with time, as our relationship develops, or as my case becomes more complicated to him. Or if I need to ask him. Or if I just won't get that. And if I don't get that, am I happy with that?
One good thing though, my GP is great. She does all the explaining, deducing and delving and tells it all to me. I love it. So I can always tell her everything the FS is doing, and she's not afraid of giving me her opinion and suggesting things I can talk to him about. Maybe she will be my outlet. I better keep those medicare receipts for tax time!
I eventually was called, and met my FS, Michael. We went into his room and he got right into it. I had filled out their questionnaires prior to my visit, but it was short notice so they only received them the night before. He hadn't had time to read them and instead asked me some key questions. Didn't ask about my hubby though. He did a quick examination, looked at the blood results which were perfect, didn't seem too concerned about anything at all.
He wrote out a request for both hubby and me to have a karyotype blood test that tests for chromosomal abnormalities and sent me on my way, his parting words being - "go get yourself pregnant!" Well, I don't have any trouble doing that! It was all over and done with in about 10 minutes. It didn't feel complete. It didn't feel important. In fact, it felt a bit... meh. That's the only way I can describe it.
I understand that to him, I'm a fairly non-important case. I may well go and get pregnant and have a perfectly normal pregnancy right away. I am probably one of his most uncomplicated patients at the moment. But to me, it is super important. To me, it's complicated. To me, this is the most important thing in my life right now. I'm not sure what I really want from him. I guess I like hearing people's thought processes. I like doctors to explain EVERYTHING to me that they have deduced from the information I gave them. I like to know all the possibilities that exist that they have ruled out for me and why. I like to know ALL the possibilities that may exist for me, no matter how remote the chance (because hey, three miscarriages is a remote chance but it still happened)! I'm not sure whether that sort of thing will come with time, as our relationship develops, or as my case becomes more complicated to him. Or if I need to ask him. Or if I just won't get that. And if I don't get that, am I happy with that?
One good thing though, my GP is great. She does all the explaining, deducing and delving and tells it all to me. I love it. So I can always tell her everything the FS is doing, and she's not afraid of giving me her opinion and suggesting things I can talk to him about. Maybe she will be my outlet. I better keep those medicare receipts for tax time!
Sunday 12 June 2011
Bursting at the Seams
I would like to give a bit of advice to all the ultrasound practitioners out there...
Be on time... to the exact second. Or early! Early is good! In fact, early is super great! A few people out there will be nodding their heads, for those of you who have a quizzical look on your face... here's why.
A few days ago, I had an appointment to get an ultrasound. You have some directions to complete before arriving. They are very specific and involve drinking a litre of water in half an hour, one and half hours before your appointment. I was at work when the half hour time slot came by and managed to chug down four glasses of water while madly running around finishing up the jobs I had to do before the drive to the x-ray clinic. Everything is going fine at the moment.
At 2.45pm, 15 minutes after finishing my litre of water, I started the 35 minute drive to the clinic. No worries there, at least for the first half. Towards the end of the drive, just as I started hitting traffic, bumpy roads and red lights, the water started making its presence known. The seatbelt pressure was a tad uncomfortable. But it was manageable. I'd be there soon.
So, I arrive 10 minutes early (you might be lucky and get in early!) and made myself comfortable in the waiting lounge. The comfort was short lived. With each passing minute, I became more and more aware of the pressure down below. I started fidgeting. I started squirming. I tried sitting in so many different positions people must've thought I had worms. I even lifted myself off the chair with my hands to try and relieve the pressure...
I was watching the clock intently... 8 minutes to go... oh my goodness, I can make it. The clinic door opens - I look up expectantly with hope shining from my eyes, but she calls the wrong name. The pressure increases... 5 more minutes, I can do this. The door opens again - please be for me!! Nope, not for me.
I wiggle some more, cross my legs, uncross my legs, lift my bottom off the chair. Oh my, thank goodness I've been practicing pelvic floor exercises! 2 minutes to go, the door opens... I think my look of hope is now a squished up strange look of half pain - please be for me!!! Nope, not for me. I start thinking about how much longer I can last. What will I say to the ladies at the front desk? Just how strong are my pelvic floor muscles? I don't think I can hold on much longer...
It's 3.30! That's my appointment time! It'll be my turn any second now!!! The door opens.... damn, not for me. Oh no. I start rehearsing... "I just need to go a tiny bit!" Surely they don't want a mess! I start closing my eyes, try to meditate... oh no - that's too relaxed, bad idea. Everyone else seems so calm and my mind is going nuts! I have to go to the toilet!!!!!!!!!
It's 3.40 - I could've started drinking 10 minutes later! I can't hold on anymore, this is it!
The door opens - he calls my name! Thank goodness! But he's up the other end of the clinic! So I waddle across the room, standing up tall in a very strange manner, slightly tilted over, my forehead creased in concentration, desperately trying to look normal and failing miserably. That was close... way too close.
Please be on time next time!
Be on time... to the exact second. Or early! Early is good! In fact, early is super great! A few people out there will be nodding their heads, for those of you who have a quizzical look on your face... here's why.
A few days ago, I had an appointment to get an ultrasound. You have some directions to complete before arriving. They are very specific and involve drinking a litre of water in half an hour, one and half hours before your appointment. I was at work when the half hour time slot came by and managed to chug down four glasses of water while madly running around finishing up the jobs I had to do before the drive to the x-ray clinic. Everything is going fine at the moment.
At 2.45pm, 15 minutes after finishing my litre of water, I started the 35 minute drive to the clinic. No worries there, at least for the first half. Towards the end of the drive, just as I started hitting traffic, bumpy roads and red lights, the water started making its presence known. The seatbelt pressure was a tad uncomfortable. But it was manageable. I'd be there soon.
So, I arrive 10 minutes early (you might be lucky and get in early!) and made myself comfortable in the waiting lounge. The comfort was short lived. With each passing minute, I became more and more aware of the pressure down below. I started fidgeting. I started squirming. I tried sitting in so many different positions people must've thought I had worms. I even lifted myself off the chair with my hands to try and relieve the pressure...
I was watching the clock intently... 8 minutes to go... oh my goodness, I can make it. The clinic door opens - I look up expectantly with hope shining from my eyes, but she calls the wrong name. The pressure increases... 5 more minutes, I can do this. The door opens again - please be for me!! Nope, not for me.
I wiggle some more, cross my legs, uncross my legs, lift my bottom off the chair. Oh my, thank goodness I've been practicing pelvic floor exercises! 2 minutes to go, the door opens... I think my look of hope is now a squished up strange look of half pain - please be for me!!! Nope, not for me. I start thinking about how much longer I can last. What will I say to the ladies at the front desk? Just how strong are my pelvic floor muscles? I don't think I can hold on much longer...
It's 3.30! That's my appointment time! It'll be my turn any second now!!! The door opens.... damn, not for me. Oh no. I start rehearsing... "I just need to go a tiny bit!" Surely they don't want a mess! I start closing my eyes, try to meditate... oh no - that's too relaxed, bad idea. Everyone else seems so calm and my mind is going nuts! I have to go to the toilet!!!!!!!!!
It's 3.40 - I could've started drinking 10 minutes later! I can't hold on anymore, this is it!
The door opens - he calls my name! Thank goodness! But he's up the other end of the clinic! So I waddle across the room, standing up tall in a very strange manner, slightly tilted over, my forehead creased in concentration, desperately trying to look normal and failing miserably. That was close... way too close.
Please be on time next time!
Sunday 5 June 2011
Life on Hold
There are many things that you 'should' or 'should not' do while trying to conceive and in early pregnancy:
I don't know or care how big that risk is. The risk is there and it is the individual's decision to do or not do based on their knowledge of the risk. In most cases, the risk of anything bad happening from any of the above is very very small. Lots of people tell you that... that there's only a 1 in 1,000 chance of something bad happening - so go for it! The thing is, what if you are that 1 in 1,000?
There is only a very small risk that you will have 3 miscarriages in a row. For me though - that risk is 100%. It happened. So even if the risk, or the chance, is miniscule, to someone, that risk is everything. The risk wouldn't exist if it didn't happen to someone.
I follow a lot of the 'rules' of trying to conceive. I wasn't very strict the first time around. I became a little stricter the second time around and more strict again the third time around. I now drink decaf coffee for goodness sake!!! When you don't know why something bad is happening, you just try to eliminate every conceivable controllable thing that may have the slightest chance of contributing. So that's what I did... to a large extent.
The problem with that is though... you have to put your life on hold. I have a big blank canvas of a backyard. Now, I love gardening, and I love luscious gardens. So having a big blank canvas of a backyard is not something I want - not without getting my hands stuck into it anyway! I've been putting off starting the garden. I know it's a big job - and backbreaking a lot of the time too. That's why I put if off. The 'list' includes avoiding backbreaking tasks - and digging in gardens!
The problem is, there is only so much time you can put your life on hold. This trying to conceive time of my life may stretch on for years. I don't want to look at a blank backyard forever.
So today, I bought some garden edging, picked up a shovel, and laid into the yard. I now have my garden marked out - with garden edging to boot. I feel good too. I think the sweaty work set my endorphins running - I'm pretty sure that's good for trying to conceive!
- don't use toothpaste with triclosan
- limit your caffeine intake
- limit your alcohol intake
- exercise regularly
- don't exercise too hard
- eat a healthy balanced diet
- don't smoke
- take multivitamins
- don't lift heavy things
- don't get stressed
- don't eat soft cheese, salads, processed meats... (this list goes on and on)
- don't garden without gloves
- and so on... an so on
I don't know or care how big that risk is. The risk is there and it is the individual's decision to do or not do based on their knowledge of the risk. In most cases, the risk of anything bad happening from any of the above is very very small. Lots of people tell you that... that there's only a 1 in 1,000 chance of something bad happening - so go for it! The thing is, what if you are that 1 in 1,000?
There is only a very small risk that you will have 3 miscarriages in a row. For me though - that risk is 100%. It happened. So even if the risk, or the chance, is miniscule, to someone, that risk is everything. The risk wouldn't exist if it didn't happen to someone.
I follow a lot of the 'rules' of trying to conceive. I wasn't very strict the first time around. I became a little stricter the second time around and more strict again the third time around. I now drink decaf coffee for goodness sake!!! When you don't know why something bad is happening, you just try to eliminate every conceivable controllable thing that may have the slightest chance of contributing. So that's what I did... to a large extent.
The problem with that is though... you have to put your life on hold. I have a big blank canvas of a backyard. Now, I love gardening, and I love luscious gardens. So having a big blank canvas of a backyard is not something I want - not without getting my hands stuck into it anyway! I've been putting off starting the garden. I know it's a big job - and backbreaking a lot of the time too. That's why I put if off. The 'list' includes avoiding backbreaking tasks - and digging in gardens!
The problem is, there is only so much time you can put your life on hold. This trying to conceive time of my life may stretch on for years. I don't want to look at a blank backyard forever.
So today, I bought some garden edging, picked up a shovel, and laid into the yard. I now have my garden marked out - with garden edging to boot. I feel good too. I think the sweaty work set my endorphins running - I'm pretty sure that's good for trying to conceive!
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