Restart

Here we go again. Because of my age and how early my miscarriage was, the one good thing my OB said was that we didn’t have to wait.  So if my miscarriage was my CD1, I am now approaching the LH surge and ovulation. And sure enough, my body knows what to do, producing beautiful, clear, stretchy cervical mucous. The OPKs which I have welcomed back in my life confirmed with a light blue line that indeed I was surging but I wasn’t quite there. No smiley face yet but Dave and I are still putting the sperm in place and using preseed to help them get where they need to go.

Amazingly, I am calm, happy and positive.  Hard to believe just two weeks ago, I couldn’t pull myself out of bed and now I am raring to go. All it took was a little cervical mucous to remind me it aint over. My body knows what to do. I just need to have faith and nurture it along.

BFP....Psych!

I waited 8 days after my period was late to take a test. I calculated my ovulation was a week late so why torture myself with a negative test. Finally at 2:30 am, I broke down. My boobs hurt, I couldn’t sleep and I could no longer make excuses why AF hadnt come. There was a good reason. I was pregnant.

Suddenly, a weight had been lifted. There would be no trips to Denver. I was no longer cursed. My body indeed worked without the help of fertility drugs. The Mayan masseuse worked miracles. By 7 am, my online crew was sending my congrats, I had texted photos of the positive test to friends in Philadelphia, Atlanta, Ohio and New York. And I was busy giving advice on how to reach Esther for a massage and what to expect. It was my happy ending. How it was supposed to be after everything we had been through these past 15 months.  The due date was February 1, three days before Miles should have been born so I had conceived the same cycle. And if the Hong Kong psychic was right, the baby would be born in 2011, a little early but maneagable. To say I was over the moon would be an understatement. I was walking on air with a perma-grin.

A week later, I noticed that my boobs weren’t so big, I wasn’t exhausted and the nausea hadnt set in. I chalked it up to that I wasn’t far enough along and every pregnancy was different.  Besides I was busy, very busy, packing boxes night and day for our big move and taking care of one very active toddler. I didn’t have the luxury to go to sleep at 7 pm.

Then the spotting came, two days after we moved into our new house. I tried to say it was implantation but deep down I knew, it was very different that what I had seen in my past two pregnancies. My doctor brought me in three days earlier than my scheduled visit to alleviate my stress. Then she couldn’t find my uterus and sent me to pee. The second look wasn’t any better so she brought in another doctor who indeed saw my uterus but nothing there. She consoled me that it was too early and left me with a photo of my empty uterus and a lab slip to check my HCG and progesterone levels. She called later that day. My HCG was at a mere 385. Normal low would be a 1000. Things weren’t looking good. And I was still spotting.

Two days later, it was officially over. My happy ending was literally bleeding out of me complete with debilitating cramps. It didn’t help that Miles was sick and I was 20 miles and a heavily trafficked bridge away from my friends, babysitters and comfort zone. Suddenly the weight was back. I dreaded seeing pregnant women with toddlers younger than DS in tow, I curse even my dear friends who have easy 1-2 pregnancies with nary a worry and easy births and wonder where my positive-no fertility-drugs attitude has gone.