Great Good Fortune

"Tell me, Tonya. How many lumps would you like?"
"Better give me a lotta lumps– a whole lotta lumps!"

My forearms look like they belong on an alien creature. Nice, four inch bruises and some really interesting pink and red lumps where each of the injections went in.

At least the swelling started going down, so I can assertively attest that Popeye is not my dad.

Today, I had acupuncture for the first time. Striving to be an open-minded individual, I convinced myself it would be no big deal.

I did my homework, found a doctor certified in acupuncture (an actual EmmDee!). My insurance will cover this! He was surprisingly well versed in LIT and the other treatments I will undergo, and fully supported an integrated approach to resolving our recurrent miscarriage issues. He believes we will improve our chances for a future healthy pregnancy by 20%. WOW. When 25-65% of pregnancies end in the first trimester, 20% improvement is impressive.

The doctor began immediately, and in short order, I had sprouted several needles in my left ear. They felt huge. I was convinced there must be blood, due to my recent doses of blood thinners. Prayed it was not oozing down my head. More, smaller ones followed in my knees, ankles, shins, and hands. Could not look at them. Afraid to move.

Next came the electrical stimulation portion. Four of the needles were hooked up to a small battery-powered device, which sent very mild currents through my body between pairs of needles. I thought my left index finger would never stop contracting! Over the next 15 minutes, I noticed the contractions gradually ceased, and I felt very relaxed.

At this point, feeling very detached, I managed to look down my body. I observed needles protruding out, but not as many as I had thought.

When the doctor returned, needle removal was quick and virtually painless. There was no blood, as I envisioned. I can barely discern where I was skewered. I felt like taking a good, long nap.

See? No big deal. Thank goodness, because I return for Round 2 on Wednesday.

<whew>

As the date drew near for our first treatment, I was nervous. Very nervous. And excited. And worried. I lost sleep, especially the final two nights before our trip to Mexico.

I am convinced this is the most outlandish thing we have ever done as a couple. Yet, neither of us has questioned our desire to have more children. Of course we will go, no matter the cost.

I had to learn to give myself subcutaneous injections before we left. With my type of thrombophilia, I now know I must use blood thinners (Lovenox) every time I travel by airplane. It took about 4 minutes with needle poised and skin prepped before I made the plunge– literally. I think that first bruise was caused by excessive force. Obviously, I need to perfect my technique.

So, how did it go? Well, once we actually crossed the border with five other couples, trailing the quiet doctor, and walked the single block to his office, all my fears evaporated.

Conversation began among the couples present, and we started enjoying the trip. Johnathon survived his blood draw like a champ! We discovered a deep respect for this quiet doctor who has a great sense of humor and compassion.

Four couples retired for an early lunch, then we continued the hunt for an elusive arm patch called Emla for the subsequent white blood cell injections. Emla is a topial lidocaine cream that numbs the skin, and it is available very afforably across the border. After visiting several pharmacies, we score enough boxes to satisfy the demand.

I have to admit, using Emla made getting eight subdermal injections of about 10-20cc each pretty tolerable. I am glad we bought an extra box for our second trip next month!

Side effects have been similar to what others have reported: exhaustion, redness, swelling, and bumps at the injection sites. I choose to welcome the discomfort, and visualize my body creating protective antibodies that will help us in a future pregnancy.

Four self-injections later, I am happy to report I was finally able to dose Lovenox without bruising myself. One small leap for womankind!

Am I glad we went? Absolutely. I felt safe the entire trip, and reallyenjoyed the company along the way. It was also a bonding experience formy husband and I. We work really well as a team, especially duringtimes of stress. I will probably feel nervous next time, too, but atleast we know better what to expect now. And I am so happy that we are doing something that can help us stay pregnant next time.

After waiting a month, we met with our RI in May. Turns out, I’ve got inherited thrombophilia, a blood clotting disorder. It is easy to manage, I just take five times the RDA of B6, B12 and folic acid, plus a daily baby aspirin. This should reduce my body’s overabundant homocysteine levels to non-toxic levels, and help protect a fetus from neural tube defects.

The other two immunology issues are more complex, and there could be side effects to treatment. I have some serious panic moments. I assuage these using research, talking to multiple doctors, and meeting and conversing with other women in similar situations– surprising how many of us there are out there!– and we decide to go for it. I will be supplementing cutting-edge drug therapies with dietary changes, chiropractic (always had good results with this) and acupuncture (never tried it before).

Some folks might consider it radical and not worth any risk. I feel in my heart this is the right path for us. I want to enjoy the wonderful miracle of parenthood again. Our daughter is so amazing, how could I possibly not want more?

The only way to get to this place was the screwiest series of dots you could map out. I’m sure there is a reason for the journey, there always is. Sometimes it is inscrutable until you are beyond the tree-line.

Suffice it to say… we met, we married, we had a life, then we had a kid. Well, it’s still a life, even after kids, but it’s different. Everything seemed to be going right. And I wouldn’t trade it for the world!

Then, we wanted to have another kid. That’s when things went pear-shaped.

See, we are planning people. We asked all our friends who had kids (we were years behind many of them) "How is your child spacing working out?" Add in hubby’s opinion about his years apart from his sister, and we arrived at an ideal spacing of 2.5 years. So, we stop preventing. And nothing.

Secondary infertility. Anovulatory condition. Thank god I was charting, or it might have taken a year before my midwife took it seriously. I have also been diagnosed with a luteal phase defect, which is a pretty crappy way to put it. I prefer "short luteal phase." Basically, my body no longer makes enough progesterone to support a pregnancy.

Okay, we have a way to help this along. Progesterone supplements. Six months into our timeline, we get pregnant! We are ecstatic!! A few days later, I am told by an impersonal, hurried OB office staffer that my hCG numbers are dropping. I will lose this pregnancy. When? Who knows. Goodbye. <click>

No way is this happening to us! I couldn’t believe it. The next day, our first miscarriage began. It was called a chemical pregnancy. Another unfortunate term. We lose our dreams and hopes for an expanded family, and it’s all just "chemicals"??

So, I cry. And cry. And talk to friends. And cry some more.

It seems like an eternity to wait two months to try again, but we do. And Bingo! Okay, THIS time it’s gonna be different. It was just "bad luck" the first time we lost a pregnancy.

But, no. We went for an ultrasound at 6.5 weeks, and the baby never developed. This time, it was "blighted ovum" or "missed abortion." Such a caring way to put it. hCG is dropping again, nothing we can do. I chose to have the m/c induced using misoprostal. Harsh, but effective.

This time, I’m sad AND angry. I just felt in my heart that there was no way this was random chance, bad luck twice in a row. But we were encouraged to try again, since we had one daughter already.

So, five months later, I see the second line. The panic line… the one that now brings fear as well as giddy excitement. hCG looks good this time– doubling as it should! Holy cow, this is it! Progesterone supplements, check. Due date calculation, check. No anticardiolipin problems, no thyroid problems.

First ultrasound…. shows no fetal pole, but two sacs. We need to wait a week and take another peek.

What a miserable wait, I’m a wreck.

But it pays off… we see one glorious heartbeat! We had a "vanishing twin," but choose to be grateful for the lovely blasocyst we do have.

We got to see him a few more times before the bad news. I lost all my pregnancy symptoms during the 11th week of pregnancy. Josiah died around 10 weeks, 3 days gestation. I was alone, by choice, for the ultrasound. I just never let myself believe it could happen again, especially after seeing the heartbeat. Josiah also had Down syndrome, which we are initially told is why he died. But my gut told me that wasn’t it; Down’s babies often live to be born.

This time, I was adamant on getting tested for other problems. We are referred to a Reproductive Immunologist, and proceed to offer up 30 vials of blood to determine if my intuition is right.

Damn, sometimes I hate it when I’m right. Forget a blissfully ignorant pregnancy. I just want one that ends with a baby in my arms. Time to fire the cartographer. Only, I have a feeling that somewhere before I was born, I signed up for all this pain. I always knew deep down that I would experience an almost unimaginable loss. I am hoping: please let this be it.