* pregnancy mentioned *
It has been a whirlwind couple of days and nights. I left home at 10:30 pm MDT on Wednesday night and did not get into New York City until 1:30 pm EDT on Thursday. Two and a half hours late. First there was a weather delay in NYC then the airline crew broke a water main on the aircraft and after spending 45 minutes trying to repair it they had us deplane and transfer to a new aircraft.
The flight delay made it impossible to take public transit and still arrive at Dr. Braverman’s office to complete my immune panel testing and my Intralipid IV treatment on time for my 1:00 pm appointment. It takes 2 hours to do the IV over 90 minutes to travel there on public transit and the office closes at 5:00 pm. I did the math, lined up for ground transportation and took a taxi from the airport. The trio should have taken about 45 minutes.
I gave the cab driver the address. I asked if he had a GPS. He said yes. That was a lie. The trip took almost 80 minutes.
I had never yelled at a cab driver before yesterday. There truly is a first time for everything.
The driver finally shut off the meter when it exceeded $180 and I told him I was calling the police. That was after I had told him then begged him several times to exit the highway we were on because he had driven past our exit. Way past. Over half an hour to get back to where I needed to be past. Then he tried to hold me hostage to paying the full fare unless I paid cash. $120 cash. I am still considering a complaint.
The trip should have been about $100. It was raining. Traffic moved well except in a couple of places. I gave him the $120 got a receipt and made a wish that he would hit a tree but not with a fare on board. That’s not nice. I know. I have placated my guilty conscience with the thought that it was an opportunity for us of us to learn some life lessons.
For me: (a) write complaint to airline and ask them to reimburse my cost for part of that cab fare; (b) never hire a car to the middle of Long Island without getting the driver’s express consent to follow my directions; and (c) record that initial conversation about following directions.
For him: (a) don’t mess with a hormonal female running on a serious lack of sleep; (b) above all, don’t lie to her; and (c) Canadians are not all sweetness and maple syrup. (Especially the nauseous, sleep-deprived and desperate-to-stay-pregnant ones.)
Amazingly, both the driver and I survived the ride.
Dr. Braverman stopped by during my IV treatment as he always does. The most noteworthy part of that conversation for me was when he said that if it were not for my loss history there would be nothing about my beta or progesterone or TSH numbers that would suggest things were anything but perfect. Of course he said he cannot tell me not to worry and he cannot guarantee things won’t yet go south. But for right now things look good.
If Monday’s beta looks good there will be no more betas at Dr. Braverman’s request and my first ultrasound will be on a date between November 7-10 (the exact date is up to me and the LP. The LP is not available until November 12 or 13 so I will likely be doing ultrasound #1 alone. I may need some drugs for that.)
This morning the test line on a FRER (First Response Early Result) test was darker than the control line for the first time. I am 10dp5dt this afternoon. I hope that is a good progression.
I asked if we should do the third beta today but Dr. Braverman likes four days between betas #2 and #3. I will have five days between because all of the diagnostic labs in my hometown are shut down this Sunday to do some kind of system work. Of course they are. Why wouldn’t they be?
Thursday evening ended beautifully and more than made up for the fiasco that was my travel from home to Woodbury, Long Island. There was mouth-watering crab, succulent lobster, some of the best garlic butter I’ve ever had, amazing sautéed greens and for my spectacular hosts some award-winning dessert. I had some small and big dog love and the best night’s sleep I have had all week. Thank you, E and M, for being so perfectly awesome.
On the whole I am feeling more grounded and hopeful than I was after beta #2 when the deep dark sea of terror opened up and tried to swallow me whole. I have been trying not to dwell in the land of what-ifs. I am also trying to communicate lovingly and with hope to Gertie and Al. I don’t know if either or both are going to make it but I am trying to send messages to each in the hope they are bot still with us
I do not know if one of them has already left us. I suspect that to be the case not on an intuitive basis but one borne of experience and awareness of the odds we are up against generally with all of my HLA, KIR and inflammation issues. I suppose this logic is a form of defence mechanism. In any event I try not to dwell here either because the thought of having lost another baby already is painful and frightening. It is a place I do not want to go right now.
As much as I know a twin pregnancy would throw my life and the LP’s life upside down, I cannot help but long for both Gertrude and Alice to survive and thrive. I am simply trying not to think or feel too much about this right now. What will be will be. My intentions are set and I am doing my best to let go the rest.
On the symptom front, I have been nauseous and exhausted. I have had an occasional headache and some pretty notable cramping (I’ve had to take Tylenol twice as I find myself getting anxious if the cramps get too intense). I am trying to drink more fluids in case the cramps are a product of dehydration or if that only applies later in pregnancy
That’s it for symptoms but I am very early. This afternoonI am 4 weeks 1 day pregnant if we count transfer day as five days past ovulation and my 19th cycle day in a 28-day cycle. I like to do that because I love fictional constructs in medicine as much as I enjoy them in law. On that note, I am now officially in week 5 of pregnancy number 10. How trippy is that?
Many of my pregnancies have ended in weeks 5 or 6. I am begging my immune system to let this one be different.
As I write this while aboard the second leg of my two-leg return flight, I am deeply grateful to be heading home to the LP and the truly miraculous Miracle Toddler. I am grateful to be doing so with a backpack full of drugs that manifest my intention to have faith in this pregnancy number 10, in Azulito and his compadre or comadre (should both of our beans still be cooking down there) and in myself. I ordered another 30 days’ worth of medications. I hope and pray I get to use those and more as we march forward.
Now that I feel more grounded, I have regained my sense that I can do this. I *am* doing it. There are no guarantees but for now I am pregnant. Feet planted. Heart-in-hand. Facing forward. (Thank you, Jann Arden. Good Mother always makes me cry.). I am giving this my all. And then some.
Fingers crossed on Monday, friends, if you please.