I have trouble giving up on even the tiniest embryo while there is even the slightest hope that it might make it. When I had the chemical pregnancy on IVF#2 I continued to take the progesterone in oil shots for two days after the initial beta came back at a measly 8 until the second blood test showed that the levels were indeed falling. I don’t want to give up on this one either. Aside from the slow heartbeat it looked pretty darn good on the ultrasound. I could see what I thought was the head and possibly an arm bud. I want to clutch at straws like ‘maybe the tech got it wrong’, but that’s a pretty flimsy straw. Sure, the tech could have gotten it wrong, she is not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but then both Warren (who is pretty darn observant and in the room at the time), and my doctor (who had the still pictures with the heartbeat sine wave) would have had to have missed it. That’s the best straw I found to clutch, beating out the initial straw that popped into my head: maybe it’s a momentary aberration and the embryo is just doing something that is temporarily slowing its heart rate. Um, yeah, nice thought irrational brain, but embryos at seven and a half weeks gestation aren’t known for their leet heart-slowing zen meditation techniques. I want to and need to be a cheerleader for this embryo until I know for sure that it is gone, but at the same time I am a rational person who knows that when we saw the embryo on the ultrasound yesterday it was almost certainly in the process of dying.
I had lost the caution I had about being too confident in a positive outcome. I think this is understandable after two successful pregnancies, and while I did have the initial chemical pregnancy, and the vanishing twin on my first successful pregnancy, and the empty sac/blighted ovum on the second, this is the first one where a bad outcome has reared its head after we saw a heartbeat. I hadn’t been prefacing each and every thought with “If this works out…”, and instead I was thinking about how cool it would be to go five days late and deliver on February 29th. I was thinking about how Duncan and his new younger sibling would feel about both having birthdays in the same month. I was wondering if I needed to buy a stroller that held three kids. I added baby patterns to my rather short ravelry queue. Have I mentioned I really wanted this baby? I was so close to my goal of three kids that I thought it was just a matter of waiting until February.
I will be fine. It seems grossly unfair that I on Monday I had morning sickness so bad that I actually threw up while driving into work only to find out on Tuesday that I’m almost certainly losing this one. Of course it isn’t news to me at this point that life is unfair and bad things happen to good people and they certainly happen to me. The rational brain is winning and coming up with theories. We’ll probably never know for certain what went wrong, though it is almost certainly a genetic problem with the embryo. The insurance won’t pay for genetic testing because I don’t have a history of losses. (To the insurance people things like chemical pregnancies and vanishing twins don’t count as losses.) I’m guessing that it’s probably a case of trisomy 16 based on when fetal demise seems to be occurring, but that’s just a semi-educated guess. I’ll go in on Tuesday and I won’t be surprised if there is no heartbeat and I will schedule the D&E, and I will go back to my plan for a sixth IVF cycle as soon as my body is able, and in the meantime we will “buy lottery tickets”.
Oh, and while I may be fine, if anyone ascribes this miracle-natural-pregnancy-turned-probabl