Finally Arrived

Yesterday's Sadness Has Mutated into Bitter Anger at the Universe

When my husband was in college, he lived in a house with 7 other guys.  To this day, they are all  best friends.  And they are all married to really cool, intelligent, kind-hearted women.

Well, guess what?

Not one, but TWO - yes, TWO - of the wives gave birth yesterday. Two beautiful, healthy babies, both born just a little early.  Everyone involved is doing fucking wonderfully. You should see the elated emails going back and forth - how strange but wonderful that the babies were born the same day, a double blessing, fate works in bizarre ways, perhaps they will be kindred spirits, blah, blah, blah... (*puke*)

We all know that yesterday was my due date, right? All I can say is, Universe, what the fuck did I ever do to you? And the gall of those two bitches, they stole my due date. Them and their emergency c-sections.

In response to the onslaught of their cheery emails, I'm thinking of replying with a Was-Supposed-To-Be-Born-Yesterday-But-Died Announcement. That'll teach them! I'll embarrass my husband and mortify our entire social circle, potentially for the rest of our lives, with just one email. Permanent alienation in 10 lines or less! Because goddamn it, those fucking fuckers had the NERVE to forget that I'm the center of the universe and IT'S ALL ABOUT ME, BARREN FUCKING ME, not them and their disgustingly healthy babies.  They should be stroking my hand and shoving margaritas down my throat, not going into labor for chrissakes!  Self-centered, fecund cows!
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To:              Our So-Called Friends Who Have the Fucking NERVE to Succeed Where We Failed
From:        The Embittered HoldingPattern "Family"
Subject:   Big News! Was-Supposed-To-Be-Born-But-Died Announcement

Big News! Our baby was NOT born today. Instead, a ruptured ectopic destroyed that dream 7 months ago!

Fetus HoldingPattern
Child of Susan and T HoldingPattern
Due 8/11/05
Blasted with chemotherapy 1/5/05
Ruptured and Died 1/13/05
< 0.1 oz, <1 in

"Mom" did not do fine! She nearly died, having lost 40% of blood in 2 hours.  She also lost her tubes and all chance of conceiving naturally.  And I guess we shouldn't call her "Mom," but what the hell, for just this one email. At least she has no stretch marks, even though those surgical scars are another matter!

Sorry, no photos of the fetus, since that would be SICK. But here are some pics of "Mom" recovering from her near-death experience! Looking good, although quite bruised and bloated!

And here's some dead baby jokes for your amusement! So funny! Ha ha!

- The HoldingPattern "family" Couple

You Would Have Been Born Today

In a kinder universe, you would have been born today. Instead, we lost you before we even met.

On the last day of last year, I found out that I was carrying you. The news made me happier than I have ever been. The exhilaration overwhelmed. I felt favored by God - so lucky, a chosen one.  Whenever I thought of you, I felt my face flush with euphoria and my heart pound in my chest.

These emotions were so intoxicating.  I would close my eyes and let them wash over me. I was going to become a mother! Me! And T was going to be a father! And you were our baby! We would finally be a family. At last, it was our turn. I felt so blessed, delighted that you would be joining our lives.

For five blissful days, I dreamed of our future life together, of all the things I wanted to share with you, of all the love I wanted to give you. In my mind, I was already showering you with kisses. I was already carrying you to the shores of the nearby lake, where the sun would warm you and you would smell the scent of wildflowers for the very first time. I was already cradling you in my arms, listening to your tiny breaths and feeling your soft skin upon mine.

Even then, I feared I would lose you, like your sibling before you. I was desperate for your safety, but did not know how to protect you. So I prayed. With every breath I prayed that God would shield you from harm, that he would give us the chance to meet you, our beloved child, for whom we had waited so long.

On the fifth day, my doctors told me you were not in my womb; instead you were growing in my fallopian tube.  They told me you would never survive. After a chemotherapy shot and surgery, we lost you forever. The grief was shattering. Already, my connection to you had become as fundamental as water or air. Without it, I found I could hardly endure; it took me months to get my life back together.

I feel that I failed you. That you were strong and resilient, and in another woman’s body you might have survived and lived a long, full life. That perhaps I caused your demise by doing something unpardonable the universe could not forgive. That if only I were more deserving, God might have let you live. 

I am so very sorry for all the ways I failed you, more mournful than I can express. More than anything, I wish you were in my arms right now, taking your initial breaths, crying your inaugural cries, and seeing your father for the first time.

In the fabric of my life, there will always be a gaping hole where you should have been. The threads surrounding the tear are frayed and the opening threatens to enlarge and unravel other parts of my being. But I will not mend the hole or disregard it, even as others encourage me. My dreams of our life together - never to be realized - are all that remain of you. I cannot let them go.

Sterilizzle Fer Shizzle

I am now a tube amputee. I was anatomically sterilized 3 weeks ago, via a scheduled, out-patient laparoscopy (my 3rd lap, and my 2nd within 3 months).  I am now completely tube-less.  I am now not only infertile, but sterile too. Fabulous.

While it was nice to have a casual, non-emergency operation for a change, the recovery was actually tougher than my other laps. The pain was worse and I had to go to fantastic lengths to keep from sneezing, as it would feel like a knife thrust violently into my gut.

All is fine now, though. Physically, anyway.

During the operation, Dr. Blond found and removed some "mild to moderate endometriosis" on one side of my uterus.  Maybe the "removal" process is why I'm in more pain this time.  Anyway, this was a surprise.  In previous operations they did not see endometriosis, but apparently it is hard to see if the abdominal cavity is full of blood.

So let's add endo to the long list of factors that has compromised my fertility and made it - thus far - impossible for us to reproduce.  I think we're up to 5 or 6 factors at this point.

Also, apparently Big University Hospital’s researchers were fascinated by my DES-exposed franken-tubes.  They heard about my imminent operation and dispatched a med student to secure my permission to use them in various experiments and evidently directed her not to leave my side until those tubes were placed in her greedy little hands.  I felt like I had been romanced by her for 5 hours pre-op, only to wake up after the deed was done and find she was gone without leaving so much as a note. Used, I felt.

I hope they have more fun with my tubes than I did.  Shouldn't be too hard.  Fucking things almost killed me twice.

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Anyway, dear readers, for the last 10 days I've just posted our 3 year infertility saga, a tale of woe that's long on all the important bodily fluids: blood, sweat, tears, blood, semen, cervical mucus, blood, and more blood.  And now I'm done. We're up to date. Whew.

Thanks for putting up with me. 

Now, what do I write about next?

Cordoning off my Uterus

After recovering from my second ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I decided to get anatomically sterilized by having my right tube and the remaining left “stump” completely removed.

Yes, you read that right. I chose to be sterilized even though T and I desperately want a baby. I know it seems strange.  I've had a lot of difficulty explaining this to friends and family.

So let me break it down.

I did it because:

1. We are already neck-deep in IVF treatments, and we had already – for the most part - given up on natural conception. And you don’t need your tubes to do IVF.
2. The whole point of keeping my tubes would be so I could miraculously – and unexpectedly - get pregnant naturally some time in the future…
3. …but if that miracle pregnancy occurred, the chance of it being a 3rd ectopic would be >50%.
4. …and if it were ectopic, I might not know it or detect it in time. In my previous two ectopic pregnancies, I received my period right on schedule and didn’t know I was pregnant for several weeks.
5. …and if I didn’t know I had an ectopic pregnancy, I might go someplace where it would be difficult to get emergency medical attention, such as a plane, skiing, hiking in the woods, etc…
6. …and if I ruptured in a remote place, and again lost half my blood within two hours, I would probably die.

So, this would leave me living in fear until I was absolutely sure I was menopausal. Every month I would want to be pregnant but would be obsessively afraid of another ectopic. When I pictured this future, I saw myself obsessively taking pregnancy tests every week of every month to find out if I was pregnant, even though the chances of us conceiving naturally are remote at best. I’d also be afraid to go anywhere without a good hospital nearby.

I don’t think I could live with that kind of constant stress. So that left two choices:

1. Use birth control for all non-IVF cycles and do “extreme” monitoring for IVF cycles
2. Get my tubes completely removed

Well, #1 is cheaper and less invasive, but not as foolproof as #2. Furthermore, #2 should theoretically increase the chances of another IVF cycle succeeding. With my tubes removed, transferred embryos would not be able to migrate into the tubes. They would be forced to hang out in the uterus† and would hopefully implant. At least that is Dr. Blond’s theory… So, we chose #2 – tube removal.

† Note that having your tubes removed does not completely remove the risk of an ectopic during an IVF cycle – you could still have a cervical or cornual ectopic. Tube removal does, however, eliminate the risk of tubal, ovarian, and abdominal ectopics from IVF. If you have had your tubes completely removed (and not just tied off), during non-IVF cycles there would be no risk of ectopic pregnancies of any kind because there would be no way to get pregnant at all. If you just have your tubes tied off and not removed, you are still at risk for ectopic pregnancies.

Aftermath

On the evening of 1/14/05, the day after my emergency surgery, I was released from Big University Hospital.  I was glad to get out, as I had started to develop pneumonia and already had phlebitis (inflammation of the veins) from all the IVs.

I had a speedy recovery. Within days I stopped using Vicodin. I snapped out of my depression, probably because I had to be strong for T, my mom, and sister – all of whom were terribly worried about me.  It was most difficult to recover from the blood loss.  For several weeks, I needed 12+ hours of sleep per day, and my heart would race after climbing a flight of stairs or walking around the block.  Life was exhausting with only 2/3 of my normal red blood cell count.

BUIVF changed their policies as the result of my case.  They now require a second Beta HCG if your post-IVF level is >1.  If you remember, my post-IVF Beta HCG was 5.9, but they told me it was probably negative and that I did not need another Beta if I received my period within 3-4 days.  Well, that advice was probably correct for 99.7% of women, but it wasn’t for me.  If I had a second Beta in early December, this 10.5 week old ectopic pregnancy would have been caught at least a month earlier, and maybe I'd still have both my tubes.

So, if you are a BUIVF patient, you have me to thank for that now-mandatory $300 charge for a 2^nd Beta HCG test. Sorry about that.

Just to be clear, though, I am not planning to sue BUIVF or anything.  Not getting a second Beta HCG was my fault too, and no matter what you do you can't fully eliminate all risk. Given my history, I could have – and should have – gone in for the second Beta HCG. They gave me that choice and I did not take it. From my first ectopic, I knew firsthand that you could have an ectopic pregnancy and still get your period. I just didn't pay attention.

I received excellent care at Big University Hospital. Once we established I had an ectopic pregnancy, the BUIVF doctors correctly advised us of all the risks at every decision point, but unfortunately the odds worked against us each time.  While in the hospital, I was impressed with how nice and caring everyone was. And after I was released Dr. Brunette called me at home several times to check up on me. They saved my life, and I am so thankful.

Ectopic Rupture #2 (part 2)

After a 3-hour surgery, I woke up in the hospital's recovery room, grateful to be alive.

Dr. Brunette had done a laparoscopy to resolve the ectopic. Upon entering she had found well over 2 liters of blood in my abdomen.  Someone my size only has 6 liters of blood, so I had lost between 1/3 and 1/2 of my blood.  If Dr. Brunette had known that I had lost that much blood beforehand, she would have done a "full open" laparotomy surgery, with a 4-5" incision.  It would have been much more invasive and entail a much longer recovery.  In retrospect, the recovery from the laparoscopy was hard enough.  I am glad she did not have to do a laparotomy.

Apparently the surgery was a bit hectic, much of it spent trying to stop the internal bleeding.  At one point, my hematocrit had dropped to 19 (a normal value is >37), indicating my concentration of red blood cells was much too low.  So I received a transfusion of 3 units of packed red blood cells. 

If you give blood, I thank you and salute you. I might not be alive today without your contribution.

After clearing the blood out of my abdomen, it was obvious that the ectopic pregnancy was in my left tube this time, a surprise because my first ectopic was in my right tube.  Dr. Brunette removed the left tube, except for a small "stump" attached to my uterus. She left the right tube intact because it did not appear ruptured or diseased, although it probably contained scar tissue.

When I woke up, I was freezing cold, incredibly thirsty, swollen all over, and covered in bruises.  The first two were easily remedied, but the swelling and bruising persisted for 2-3 weeks. 

My entire body was swollen due to the gallons of intravenous fluids that were pumped into me to raise my blood pressure to acceptable levels. My hands looked like they were blown-up latex gloves. My face was so swollen I did not recognize myself. And my abdomen was so enlarged that I went from a size 8 to a size 12 overnight.  And I had some nasty bruises on my abdomen, one of which I swear is in the shape of a hand-print.  I don't want to know what went on in the OR that caused such massive bruises.  If you are not squeamish, check out the photographic evidence here.

I'm sure the bruising and swelling was due to the emergency circumstances, and the fact that I lost a lot of blood both during and prior to the operation.  I've had 2 other laps where I experienced minimal bruising and swelling.

I was admitted to the hospital overnight.  G hung out with me until T arrived - straight from the airport - a few hours later.  Also, my neighbor and another friend came by for a bit.  I was so glad and thankful to see T.  I love him so much.  He felt terrible because he was 3,000 miles away when it happened, but it was not his fault - Dr. Brunette had told him he should go!

Oddly, I was in an okay mood.  I was immensely thankful to everyone at the hospital for saving my life, and really grateful that I had such a wonderful husband and friends that cared so much about me.  In some way, the whole experience lifted me out of a very black depression.  Although still sad about losing the pregnancy, I was happy just to be alive.  I no longer felt guilty about ending the pregnancy because it was clear: the pregnancy had definitely been ectopic, and I would have certainly died if it hadn't been stopped.

Ectopic Rupture #2 (Part 1)

After treatment with Methotrexate, less than 5% of ectopic pregnancies rupture.  Once again I beat the odds in a very bad way.

On Thursday 1/13/05, I woke up, felt great, and hopped in the shower.  But within minutes, I started to feel intense cramping. It got worse and worse. I left the shower and took some Tylenol and Gas-X (thinking it was killer gas).

Things got worse. I crawled into the fetal position, still naked, on my bedroom floor. I started to feel nauseous and light-headed. I concluded it was one of three possibilities: 1) the Methotrexate was finally taking effect, 2) the ectopic ruptured, or 3) it was the worst case of gas ever. 

I called BUIVF to ask them about #1 and #2, but no answer.  I then called T, who was 3,000 miles away on a business trip.  Thank God he answered.  I asked him what I should do  - I was worried about the huge co-pay if all I had was killer gas. He urged me to go to the ER. 

After I hung up, I realized that there was no way I could drive myself to the ER - too much pain.  And I felt so light-headed I thought I might pass out before I found a friend to drive me.  I called 911 for an ambulance, and crawled to the front door and unlocked it. I then struggled to put on some clothes so the paramedics would not find me naked. [Yes, I felt like I was dying, but was still very concerned about the embarrassment my nakedness would cause everyone.]

Within minutes, a fire truck arrived with 2 firemen and an EMT.  I don't remember much except the EMT trying 2 or 3 times to jam an IV into my left arm and then into my right.  He was not very good at it. I wondered if this was his first day on the job.  He missed the vein entirely once.  Next the ambulance came with 2 paramedics.  They determined my blood pressure was really low and something was definitely amiss.  It was no mere case of killer gas. 

And believe it or not part of me was relieved - I mean I guess I would rather have a really serious medical problem but be "correct" in calling the ambulance, than have killer gas and be able to rejoin normal life within half an hour but be embarrassed about calling an ambulance for a minor thing? Better to protect my ego than my health, I guess.  How effing stupid of me.

Then we were off.  The ambulance headed to Big University hospital, home of BUIVF, as quickly as possible.

This particular ambulance seemed to have ZERO suspension. I had no idea there were so many bumps on the streets in my town - every single one threatened to shake me off my gurney.  And the paramedics were constantly coming at me with more and more needles - they false-started on another 2 or 3 IV sites, all while the ambulance was violently bouncing up and down.

I arrived at the ER and was immediately ushered into the back.  Within minutes of my arrival, my friend G showed up. En route, the paramedics had briefed T on my situation, and he had called G since we have no family within 3000 miles.  G immediately left work and sped to the ER to be with me. And she was great. If she was scared or alarmed she did not show it.  Instead, she made me laugh, distracted me from the situation, tracked down blankets/hats/socks to warm me up, and kept T, my mom, and my boss apprised of the situation. In short, she was perfect. Meanwhile, T booked the first flight home.

When I arrived at the ER, I was in stable condition.  But within an hour, my condition took a severe turn for the worse. My blood pressure dropped drastically - at one point it was 70/40 or so. I went into shock and no longer felt much abdominal pain, but I felt so cold I was shivering violently even with 10 blankets on me.  Several nurses and ER docs hovered over me.

An ultrasound indicated my abdomen was full of fluid - probably blood.   There was no doubt: the ectopic pregnancy had ruptured and I was bleeding internally, losing blood at a rapid rate. Much more rapidly than my first ectopic pregnancy.  This was a real emergency and time was running out. My condition continued to decline. They started a blood transfusion.

Dr. Brunette from BUIVF showed up, told me I needed immediate surgery, and she planned to remove the ruptured tube.  At this point, I was determined to never let this happen to me again - twice was more than enough.  So I begged her to remove both tubes.  But she said state law would only let them remove diseased or ruptured tubes. You could not sterilize a woman without informed consent, so a 30-day waiting period was required.

I was then rushed to an operating room. 5 people ran alongside my gurney, and they were running really fast, not just jogging or walking fast. That's when it hit me - this was really serious. They probably thought I was dying! Such a thought hadn't even occurred to me before. I had been so sure they were going to take care of me - that I would be fine. But seeing their frantic, purposeful movements made me start to panic.  What if this was "it" for me?

I desperately wanted the chance to talk to my husband, but he was unreachable (he was probably on a plane already) and they would not let me talk on a cell phone. When T had left on his business trip a few days earlier, we had a fight just before he left.  I did not want that to be our final interaction, in the event things did not go well.  I wanted to tell him I was sorry and that I loved him. And that was my last thought before the anesthesiologist asked me to count backward from 10.

[Just writing this entry freaks me out - it was so scary. ]

The Shot

On the morning of 1/5/05, T and I went in for my shot of Methotrexate, to end the ectopic pregnancy that we had spent untold hours, energy and money to achieve.

The day before, I had chosen this shot over surgically removing both of my tubes.  T had not been involved in this decision because, well, they were my tubes.  Turns out he was in favor of getting the surgery.  This did not sit well with me, but I agreed to reconsider after we spoke to the doctor together.

Dr. Blond was not available, so Dr. Brunette, one of the IVF fellows, sat down with us.  T grilled her for quite a while.  We were still not totally convinced it was ectopic.  Couldn't they have missed it on the ultrasound?  After she explained all the blood test results and the limitations of ultrasound equipment we were convinced.  And she said my decision to have the shot instead of surgery was a good one.

T also explained that he was leaving for a business trip on 1/9/05.  Should he cancel it and stay with me?  Dr. Brunette said he should go.  The chances of a rupture were remote.  If the shot did not work, the likely course of action would be to try another shot. 

So I got a big shot of chemotherapy in the butt. 

And then I went to work.

It's a good thing I have a private office because I cried all day long.

For the next 5 days, I could barely get out of bed. I stayed at home and mourned.  I felt lower than I ever have before.  [Someday I will write about what I was thinking about then and how I got out of such a deep, dark funk. But not now.]

I rejoined normal life on 1/11/05.  Although I felt like complete and utter shit mentally, physically I felt fantastic.  No blood.  No nausea.  No cramping.  I was the picture of health. It was so different than my first ectopic, where I had such extreme cramping and bleeding 5 days after my Methotrexate shot that I visited the emergency room.  

The next day, my Beta HCG was down to 4100 from 4800 – not quite the desired 20% drop within one week.  Dr. Brunette (covering for an out-of-town Dr. Blond) said I was "in the grey zone."  She wasn’t sure whether the Methotrexate was working or not. I told her I didn’t think it was - I felt way too good. We decided to wait and see, and retest in 2 days on 1/14/05.

Within hours, I would move out of the grey zone into the red zone.

It Was Fun While it Lasted

On 1/4/05, we learned that our much-hoped-for pregnancy was ectopic.

Once again I felt like I had been thrown across the room, had the wind knocked out of me, and was lying on the ground struggling to breathe.  I felt this on three prior occasions, when an asshat nurse told me I wouldn’t be able to get pregnant, after my first ectopic pregnancy, and when I only developed one follicle during our first IVF cycle.

At the ultrasound, Dr. Blond saw nothing in my uterus.  She should have seen something since my HCG level was 4100. Before she even told me, I could tell from her face that something was wrong.

Because I already had a prior ectopic pregnancy, Dr. Blond concluded that this one probably was as well, even though she could not see where the pregnancy actually was despite her best efforts with the ultrasound.  While there is only a 3% chance of a particular pregnancy being ectopic, if you've already had one your chances are increased to 10-15%.  

As I suspected, Dr. Blond concluded it was the result of our November IVF cycle, which had supposedly NOT resulted in a pregnancy.

To be sure of the diagnosis, Dr. Blond ordered more blood tests. Later that afternoon, she called with the results.  My Beta HCG was now 4800 - still rising, but too slowly to be a normal pregnancy.  My Progesterone level was only 10; in a normal pregnancy the level would be 20 or more 85% of the time. 

Conclusion: It was definitely an abnormal pregnancy, almost certainly ectopic, and it was not resolving itself. 

She presented me with 2 choices to –ahem - “resolve” the ectopic:

Choice 1: A shot of Methotrexate.

Choice 2: Surgery to remove both my tubes.  This would end the current ectopic and would prevent future ectopic pregnancies, important because with a history of two ectopics my chances of a third ectopic were now greater than 50%.  Without tubes, I could still do IVF, and it might improve the chance of success because the embryos would not be able to leave the uterus. 

The downside was major, though.  There would be no way for us to ever conceive naturally again.  Never. IVF would be the only way, because it bypasses the tubes. Not even IUIs would work. 

You hear stories about couples who go through infertility treatment for years, finally stop, and - SURPRISE - get pregnant naturally.  Or couples who adopt and then get pregnant.  Well, there would be NO way for this to happen to us if I had no tubes.  No surprise miracle babies.

So, I picked the shot. I was not ready to lose my tubes yet - I was so depressed that I could barely even think, never mind weigh the pros and cons of surgery.  I figured I still had the option to have my tubes out later after I thought about it more.  She warned me that I might need a second shot in a week, and if that didn't work I might still need surgery.  And there was still a 5% chance that the pregnancy might rupture.

I was totally NOT prepared for any of this.  I had no inkling the pregnancy could be ectopic. I had ruled it out in my mind because it was so different than my first ectopic pregnancy - I  had no bleeding^†, I felt physically great, and my Beta levels were so much higher!  I was so sad that we had to choose how to end a pregnancy we wanted so badly.  But they also wanted to take out my tubes?!? And my chances of a 3rd ectopic are >50%?  It kept getting worse and worse.... The “worst case” I had imagined the day before – a miscarriage – seemed a lot better than my reality.

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Did I mention that T and I were supposed to leave the next day for a ski trip?  It was to be our first vacation in a long time. We had deliberately planned it around our fertility treatments, which were not supposed to start up again until February.

Well, Dr. Blond told us to cancel because she couldn't risk me rupturing on the plane or in a remote location. 

It just added insult to injury. 

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† Turns out that vaginal bleeding is only present for 40-50% of ectopic pregnancies, so my lack of symptoms was not unusual.

Pregnant at Last!

On New Year’s Eve morning, 2004, I felt a little strange. My period was expected within the next day or two, but I did not feel it coming on. My sense of smell seemed much stronger than usual.  And then I remembered that a few days earlier my husband asked me if – somehow – my boobs had gotten bigger.

You know what I did. I took a home pregnancy test.

The result absolutely shocked me. It was P-O-S-I-T-I-V-E.  It was the first time I'd seen a positive result on one of those home tests. And we hadn't even done IVF that month, or any kind of medical treatment! Maybe relaxing had helped...

I immediately dropped to my knees and thanked God profusely, even though I am not a religious person.  I was so happy - I felt like finally we were catching a break.  I felt like God had finally determined that we were worthy of a baby, that we must have done something right for a change. I begged for the pregnancy to be normal and uneventful.

And then I called T. He was happy but skeptical, afraid I was getting ahead of myself. He told me to not get too excited.

Because of the holiday, all the labs were closed. I could not get a blood test done until 1/2/05 and wouldn't get the result until 1/3.

Over the next few days I took 3 more home tests, and they were all positive.  Neither T nor I could believe it.  We were excited, but cautious. I worried about the boozing I had done the prior month, and about the cold and allergy medicine I had taken. I hadn't taken a pre-natal vitamin all month. I hoped I hadn't hurt the baby.

On 1/3/05, Dr. Blond’s nurse called - we were definitely pregnant!  I was so damn happy I screamed with joy.  I felt so lucky for once. 

But then… (and isn’t there always a “but then” when it comes to infertility?)

…the nurse said Dr. Blond wanted me to come in tomorrow first thing because my Beta HCG results were "too high" - about 4,100.  But she asked me not to be alarmed. Chances were everything was fine.

So, I consulted Dr. Google.  If I had gotten pregnant in December, my Beta HCG should be around 100.  Even with twins or triplets, the levels would be less than 800.  Levels of 4100 were more typical of someone 6-7 weeks along.  I concluded that I must have actually gotten pregnant from our supposedly-failed IVF cycle in November.  While the HCG levels were a bit low for an 8 week pregnancy, I figured it was because implantation occured a week late. After all, my pregnancy test 10 days after transfer had been negative for probably the same reason.

I also learned that you should be able to see the baby on ultrasound once HCG levels exceed 1500 or so. Maybe we'd be able to see the baby's heartbeat the next day!

I calculated the due date of the baby - August 11, 2005.