Hi there. My journey started in October ’15, when I had my IUD removed, just days after my 36th birthday. I remember my OB’s words: “Congratulations, you’re fertile!” Having been on birth control that prevented menstruation for nearly 15 years, I wasn’t sure what would happen next, but I knew my periods during high school and college were infrequent and light. I figured “fertile” might have been a bit of an overstatement, but we agreed that I’d wait 6 weeks for a period and call in for Provera if none arrived. I truly expected that the husband and I would spend 6 months trying to conceive through irregular cycles before starting fertility treatments in April 2016. I was the girl who’d gone 12 months without a period as a healthy 18 year old, so there was no expectation in my mind that 36 year old me could get pregnant, or probably even menstruate, without help.
To my utter shock, two weeks later I had a super light period, and 13 days after that, the opks I’d bought from Amazon showed an LH surge was approaching. Of course, life interrupted when my job was eliminated that day due to corporate restructuring. Nothing puts you in the mood to get pregnant quite as much as suddenly being unemployed, so that month our timing wasn’t great. Ten days after I ovulated, AF arrived, and by that time I had secured a new job and we were ready to try again.
Month two worked out better. Once again, the opks showed a surge starting on day 13 and peaking on day 15. Our timing was perfect. My online tracking software gave us a ‘high’ score, but hey, I’m 36, so I wasn’t expecting much. Still, day 10 post ovulation (DPO) came and no period arrived. Day 11 came, still no period. Since DH had to leave town for a week at 5 am on day 12, I decided to get a FRER and test that night. Within the 3 minutes, a second line showed up. Cue a straight-out-of-the-movies scene of DH picking me up and hugging me. We were ecstatic. The due date was our 10th wedding anniversary. It seemed like a sign and couldn’t have been more perfect.
Days passed and the lines got darker on the home pregnancy tests. I scheduled a first ultrasound, but due to DH’s travel schedule, it wasn’t until 9.5 weeks. I spent the time with mild nausea, the worst cramps of my life, and a few other nasty side effects, but otherwise all was well. Except that it wasn’t, because the ultrasound revealed a blighted ovum. Development had stopped weeks ago and my body hadn’t figured it out. I opted to have a d&c at 10 weeks in January. It was one of the roughest experiences, emotionally, I’ve ever had.
My doctor told me as long as we were emotionally ready, we were cleared to try again as soon as I’d had a period. It took a full 6 weeks for my hcg to hit zero and AF to start, but it did in late February. While March’s cycle had a longer follicular phase than normal, I got a strong positive on an opk roughly day 17, and our timing was once again good. Twelve days later, when my period still hadn’t arrived, I tested and got a faint line. The lines stayed faint, and when I went to the doctor for a beta around 17 DPO, it was 8. “Chemical pregnancy” they told me. I had therefore joined the 1%. That is, the 1% of women who experience repeat pregnancy loss.
No comments:
Post a Comment