Paranoia 101

When we started IVF I was ignorant.  I was convinced our first cycle would work, we would have our miracle baby 9 months later, and all would be well with the world.  If you have followed my blog long enough, you know that our first cycle did work.  And then we miscarried at seven weeks.  One D&C later we moved on to our second cycle, which was a frozen embryo transfer.  It was a complete failure.  We moved on yet again to our third cycle - a second frozen embryo transfer with additional medications - in October.  I am currently in my 24th week of pregnancy as a result of that cycle.

Needless to say, with each failure or issue, my confidence decreased more and more.  It felt like I was being kicked while I was down.  I couldn't conceive a baby naturally, and science wasn't doing the job either.  I was no longer convinced that anything would work.  Instead, I feared (and still do) the worst.  Every time our RE told me something looked great or levels were good, I questioned him.  They looked good/great the last time, too.  And we see how that ended.  I'm not going to lie, I was a real Debbie Downer for a few months.  Do you blame me?

When we got that call after our first beta test for our third cycle, I immediately told Matt that we weren't getting excited yet.  Yes, our number was strong, but we knew all too well what could happen.  Forty-eight hours later we had our second beta.  The numbers increased, but didn't double.  Immediately I freaked out and resorted to Dr. Google.  Bad, bad idea.  I ended up calling the clinic and talking to my nurse about the numbers.  She assured me that everything looked great.  There's that word again.  We had a third beta three days later.  The numbers doubled this time.  I should have been ecstatic this time, right?  I wasn't.  I was happy.  I was excited.  I was still scared.  Our first ultrasound was a week and a half way.  Ten days of thoughts all over the place.  That day finally arrived.  Our first ultrasound was great.  I'm telling you, they use this word way too much.  We were to return one week later for our second ultrasound at 7 weeks 4 days.  That day came.  Again, our ultrasound showed a growing baby with a strong heartbeat.  Yet, I was still reluctant to get excited.  We didn't tell a single soul other than our immediate family and MAYBE five close friends.  One more ultrasound scheduled at Shady Grove for the following week.  This was the ultrasound that revealed the lack of heartbeat during our first pregnancy.  Needless to say, I was a mess that week.  Our 8 week ultrasound arrived.  I was literally shaking the entire time we were there.  That ultrasound showed more growth, a healthy baby, and a strong heartbeat.  We graduated from Shady Grove.  It was time to celebrate, right?

Wrong.  I was still paranoid.  We were only eight weeks along.  That meant five weeks remaining in the first trimester.  The supposed "safe zone".  Our little guy was still a secret.  Those weeks came and went.  I pretty much demanded a ten week ultrasound at my OB.  They gave it to me and again, all looked well.  Twelve weeks rolled around the week of Christmas.  We decided to share our news with the rest of our family and world on Christmas Day.  Three days short of the second trimester.  Again, I was hesitant, but we felt it was a great day to share.  As I chose the picture to share and typed the words.. I shook.  Was this the right time?  I was paranoid that something bad would happen as soon as we shared the news.  We made it to thirteen weeks.  My OB appointment went "great".  I scheduled my 16 week appointment and our 20 week anatomy scan with Maternal Fetal Medicine.  My week 16 appointment came and went.  Strong heart beat and measuring on target.  Next, the day arrived for my twenty week anatomy scan.  Again, I was a ball of nerves.  Was he growing normally?  Was he healthy?  I had yet to feel him move.. was something wrong?  We were the first appointment of the day.  An hour later (and a few jumping jacks and toe touches) we were told that we had a healthy, growing, baby boy as well as anterior placenta which prevented me from feeling his tiny movements - for another week or so.

Do I post our gender reveal?  Do I post an ultrasound picture?  Paranoia creeping in.  Convinced something bad is going to happen if I try to celebrate the good.  I posted.  This may be the only time I get to experience pregnancy and these milestones.  Why not share them?  (Backtrack a little bit.. I refused to take a belly picture until 12 weeks because I was afraid we would lose him if we started any earlier.)  

I had refused to buy anything baby related until our twenty week scan.  That weekend we ordered furniture and bedding.  I literally had an anxiety attack while clicking the "submit" button to order both.  What if I ordered this stuff and something went terribly wrong?  Paranoia.  We also registered after this appointment.  I really enjoyed going through the stores and picking out things, and Matt thoroughly enjoyed using the scanner to scan every little thing.  However, in the back of my mind, all I could think about was the what if.  What if something bad happens?  There it is.  Paranoia creeping in again.  Over the last couple of weeks, things have been arriving at the house.  Furniture.  Bedding.  A diaper bag.  A bath tub.  A few articles of clothing.  Should I wash it?  What do I do with it all if something goes wrong?  Yes.  I am 100% paranoid.  

I still have our last full Sharps container sitting out on the kitchen counter.  I can't bring myself to get rid of it.  Or even put it away.  All of the used vials from our last cycle are sitting beside it.  I can't get rid of those, either.  All of my left over medications and syringes are currently stored in a bin, on a shelf, in the nursery closet.  Maybe I will get rid of them someday.  Maybe.  I have a chalkboard hanging on the wall in the entryway to our kitchen.  My plan was to use this for a weekly countdown.  I'd start it at twelve weeks.  Ok, after my sixteen week appointment.  Make that the twenty week scan.  Twenty-four weeks?  It is still a clean, blank, black chalkboard.  I don't want to jinx anything.

Today I posted a #tbt (throw back Thursday) photo on Instagram.  It included a picture of the embryos we transferred on October 10th.  One of these perfect embroys is our sweet Hudson.  This is the first time anyone has seen this picture.  I have been too paranoid to share it with anyone.  I shared the photos of our embryos during the first two cycles.  They both ended negatively.  I, of course, linked that negativity to the posting of the photo and am STILL paranoid that something bad is going to happen because I posted that photo.  Call me crazy.  I probably am.  I blame infertility for these thoughts constantly lingering in the back of my mind.  Maybe that is the wrong thing to do.  Maybe it isn't.  I just know I was never this paranoid before my journey through infertility.

Throughout this pregnancy, I have had multiple friends and family members lose their babies way too early for one reason or another.  It just brings the fear right back to the surface for me.  Is that going to happen to us?  My heart breaks every time I see something bad happen to a baby and those who are close to me.  It breaks every time one of my infertility community friends suffers from yet another failed cycle.  It makes me hesitant to celebrate.

I am trying to get better.  I am trying to enjoy pregnancy.  Don't get me wrong, I have nothing to complain about.  I had no legit morning sickness.  If I got queasy, I immediately ate something and I was fine.  I do not feel big and overly uncomfortable.  I am also only 24 weeks along, so I have a lot of time left to get to that point.  But deep down, I feel like I cannot enjoy this pregnancy like a normal person who has no idea what it's like to lose something so precious.  Someone who has no idea how difficult it is for some to get pregnant - if they are even able to get pregnant with assistance.  I will always worry.  I will always be paranoid that something bad is going to happen.

For instance, yesterday.  I began feeling Hudson kick/punch/move regularly around twenty one weeks.  He seems to have adopted a schedule.  I feel him early in the morning, while I am sitting at my desk, and a little in the evening after I am moving around at lacrosse practice.  Yesterday, I felt nothing other than one little kick when I woke up.  It didn't seem normal to me.  I also felt off.  I can't explain it.  My feet, legs (these daily), hands and face were swollen.  Was something wrong?  Should I call my OB?  Will they think I am over-reacting?  At that point, I didn't care.  I needed to know my baby was ok.  I called.  They told me to eat a large candy bar and see if that jump started our little guy.  Low and behold, about twenty minutes after devouring the candy bar I felt a few movements.  I felt a few more after school.  I even felt some at practice.  All he needed was a little sugar.  A boy after my own heart.  But again, you can see my paranoia.  Some days I just need that reassurance that is he ok.

I pray every day.  I read two different devotionals daily.  I know that God is in control and that I should not have these thoughts.  But I cannot help it.  I am just too scared to lose our little boy.  I know this will all work out according to God's plan.  I just pray that his plan includes a healthy and happy little Hudson for us!

With that, I will leave you with the #tbt picture I posted today.  A picture of our embryos from this transfer, a picture of Hudson from our 20 week anatomy scan, and a current picture of my ever growing belly that I am beyond thankful to have.