LifeAfterDepo
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The best and worst week of my life.
I originally was going to compose this as a happy story about my surprise + HPT, however I now write this with unstoppable tears running down my face and my fingers shaking to strike the correct keys.
For insight only, I am 24 years old, 5’2” and 120lb. My husband is 27 years old, 5’8” and 170lb. We are both fit, healthy individuals.
This experience began 6 weeks ago today, my LMP 7/25/13. The day before that my husband came home from work and we were packing to go on a weekend trip. Shortly after we come home, we planned to close on our first house.
We had just moved in the house a few days prior to my + OPK, all the other fertility signs I monitor were coming together with it.
Suspected ovulation CD17 (8/10/13).
Husband leaves to go back to work a few days after that. I continue to go about my business and try not to test earlier than I know I should even think about it. I do anyway, all negative.
13 days after suspected ovulation, I arrive to work and immediately am struck with anger. The witch came. Heavy bleeding started 8/23 lasting 2 days then light on the 3rd day. At this point, I’m pretty distraught that my luteal phase appears shortened.
I then start to spot here and there. I become even more pissed off. Is my body intentionally trying to torment me with this nonsensical bleeding?
I don’t remember what day it was but somewhere in between here, I decided to test. The faintest of faint pink lines shows up. I laugh at it. There’s no way, my eyes just love to imagine those faint lines. Just for good measure, I look at it again in the morning, its even darker. Well at this point one could argue evaporation line, but my eyeballs saw something the night before. I still am not phased by it because we have had evaporation lines before and so, I chose to believe I fell prey to the statistics of that because the witch had already appeared.
I kept the test because I am a neurotic person.
A few nights later, a friend was over and I decided to show her the test and her eyebrows immediately raise and she says hers did that early on. I still am not phased, the witch came already.
On 8/30 – which is 7 days after the witch came and 20 days after my last believed ovulation date – I am overwhelmed with nausea. Its about 6am, I’m on the way to work and contemplating taking an antiemetic. I decide to take the antiemetic. I text a coworker and let her know I may run a few minutes late, I have to stop to get something to eat. So you would think the suspense would be killing me to run and get a test, but it never even crossed my mind.
Weekend has arrived. Friends and I watch football games and hang out. I’m unusually tired. Figured, I had a long week at work, stressful stuff lately, just need some good rest. So I call it a Saturday night around 9pm.
Wake up on Sunday 9/1 and just feel “off.” I felt like I needed to take a test. My husband hates the line tests, he prefers the digitals where it isn’t up to the eye of the beholder. I had 1 line test left. I figure oh well use it up before he comes home, pee on it. I usually pee in a cup, this time I didn’t even care to. Left it on the counter. A few minutes water I walk past it and I’m shocked, astounded, and almost passed out. The line was so there it wasn’t even a joke.
I then do a crazy dance in an attempt to force whatever is left into my bladder to use up my last digital test. Because the husband only believes those. Digital confirms it.
I call my best friend in tears. (can’t reach husband at work). I was so happy. We finally had a little peanut. There is but one problem, I am still having this spotting. Being the neurotic person that I am, I Google. I calm my nerves realizing that spotting can be normal and it is not an alarming color or amount and no cramping. I finally get to tell husband, he is in disbelief until he sees the digital, then he is ecstatic as I am.
Labor day comes and goes. Spoke with nurse who advises me to take it easy and come in first thing 9/3 in the morning. I get a chance to talk to husband about how we should share the news and we make the decision to tell a few friends and close family. This decision came with my preparedness that things may not work out. And if it doesn’t work out, I will need the support of my loved ones. Not to mention, if they can see the struggles we go through, they may be more cautious when approaching us about when are we starting a family.
Tuesday 9/3. First ob/gyn appointment as a pregnant woman. I was glowing so much I’m surprised no one asked me what bronzer I had on. I’m thirsty, yawn every 5 seconds, I’m gassy. I’m loving every little pregnancy symptom. When nurse did office HPT she told me it turned positive instantly. Doctor congratulates me, checks cervix – looks good, reassures me the spotting is residual, draws blood and wishes me a good afternoon. Had some diarrhea off and on this day.
Wednesday 9/4. I’m at work and diarrhea strikes again. This time, I see an alarming color when I wipe. I take a moment, collect myself, and reassure myself that it wasn’t a lot and no cramping. Let’s watch it and see what happens. About 30 minutes later, I was standing up and felt something. I panic and go to the bathroom and see a quarter sized amount of reddish blood. I immediately burst into tears and call the nurse. She advises me to go home and keep my feet up as the blood work isn’t back yet.
9/4 ends and no blood work has resulted. I am upset, but calm myself by knowing I haven’t had any more red bleeding, no cramps.
9/5 comes. The nurse calls me in the morning and says my progesterone is very low and the HCG is 160. At this point, one could say I’m “6 weeks” according to LMP, though I don’t ovulate on CD14, so in protective manner I agree with her that one HCG needs another HCG to be compared to. She doesn’t tell me the progesterone number, I know low is low and I’ll probably need supplements. So I anxiously go get another HCG drawn, nurse orders it stat. Lab says they have 4 hours to result it back to the doctor. I get a call around 4pm.
The HCG dropped to 85 and she reluctantly tells me the progesterone on Tuesday was 2.9. Knowing I am a RN and have been TTC for a little while, she knows I understand what all the above means. We have few moments of silence and I begin to cry. The nurse I have come to adore and trust tries to reassure me there is a future still.
She reminds me that we know my husband and I are capable of conceiving that is a good thing.
She reassures me that even though the progesterone was a mere 2.9, it could have been higher and just now dropping with impending menstruation. We will never know.
She reassures me that mother nature has a way of taking care of things as they are meant to be and right now this is what needs to happen.
As a RN and a neurotic TTC, I cry to her and ask is it really over? She knows I know the answer. I tell her, I just have to hear it. She gets silent and reminds me of what I already know to be true, my little peanut has angel wings.
I hang up the phone and lay here and cry. I cannot help but think about the little peanut and what happened. I wish I could have seen my little peanut on an ultrasound next week as planned, I wish I could have known if my little peanut was a boy or a girl.
My husband tries to call me on the satellite phone and he can’t hear me. I am left to message him this news. The man I love so much doesn’t understand female physiology or pregnancy and what HCG means. I do my best to explain.
He asks if there is anything we can do to make it go back up. I tenderly try to explain why that can’t happen.
He asks if there is any hope left or if I can get another test tomorrow. I admire my husband’s attempts to understand. He knows I don’t ever give up. I explain this is the end of this experience.
The amazing man I love so much tells me that we can keep trying. We have to get past this and be strong. He reassures me there is nothing we can do differently but try and do everything we can do make it successful. For this, I love him even more.
I’m laying here in shock and disbelief that this has been the worst and best week of my life. I never got to see my little peanut’s face, though we shared a few beautiful moments together. I would lay in the bathtub and stare at my belly and wonder if it’s a boy or a girl. Every wave of nausea or food aversion, I would smile and think wow we have a picky eater in there. My precious cargo.
I was excited to write this as a positive inspiration to those TTC to show that when you really don’t think it is going to happen, it will. Now I write this in tears because my joy has been taken from me. Every time I saw angel wings on someone’s profile a part of me ached for them. Now I feel a whole new level of sadness.
If you took the time to read this and are TTC, just know that there are ups and downs. Know that you need to communicate well with your significant other. Know that it is okay to share your experiences with those that love you. Sharing this experience with my coworkers has brought me a whole new appreciation for how close knit of a group we are and they have been nothing short of amazing. It was painful to go back to my family and tell them that May 1st 2014 is no longer a date to be on the calendar. They most respectfully shared condolences.
I chose to continue to share this experience openly so that anyone else in a similar boat as me can know they are not alone. As a nurse I tell patients, we don’t always get the answers we want. I now must listen to my own advice.
I want you to know that sharing this experience with those that love you will make them better able to see what you are going through. I want you to know that our peanut angels were still our babies no matter how young they were. I think that next time someone asks me if I have any children, I’ll answer them with yes. I have one angel that wasn’t ready to meet the world yet. It was never a child that I was able to rock to sleep, kiss their forehead or teach them how to walk. I loved my unborn baby more than you can imagine. Love from the moment I knew my peanut existed.
Stay strong.
I originally was going to compose this as a happy story about my surprise + HPT, however I now write this with unstoppable tears running down my face and my fingers shaking to strike the correct keys.
For insight only, I am 24 years old, 5’2” and 120lb. My husband is 27 years old, 5’8” and 170lb. We are both fit, healthy individuals.
This experience began 6 weeks ago today, my LMP 7/25/13. The day before that my husband came home from work and we were packing to go on a weekend trip. Shortly after we come home, we planned to close on our first house.
We had just moved in the house a few days prior to my + OPK, all the other fertility signs I monitor were coming together with it.
Suspected ovulation CD17 (8/10/13).
Husband leaves to go back to work a few days after that. I continue to go about my business and try not to test earlier than I know I should even think about it. I do anyway, all negative.
13 days after suspected ovulation, I arrive to work and immediately am struck with anger. The witch came. Heavy bleeding started 8/23 lasting 2 days then light on the 3rd day. At this point, I’m pretty distraught that my luteal phase appears shortened.
I then start to spot here and there. I become even more pissed off. Is my body intentionally trying to torment me with this nonsensical bleeding?
I don’t remember what day it was but somewhere in between here, I decided to test. The faintest of faint pink lines shows up. I laugh at it. There’s no way, my eyes just love to imagine those faint lines. Just for good measure, I look at it again in the morning, its even darker. Well at this point one could argue evaporation line, but my eyeballs saw something the night before. I still am not phased by it because we have had evaporation lines before and so, I chose to believe I fell prey to the statistics of that because the witch had already appeared.
I kept the test because I am a neurotic person.
A few nights later, a friend was over and I decided to show her the test and her eyebrows immediately raise and she says hers did that early on. I still am not phased, the witch came already.
On 8/30 – which is 7 days after the witch came and 20 days after my last believed ovulation date – I am overwhelmed with nausea. Its about 6am, I’m on the way to work and contemplating taking an antiemetic. I decide to take the antiemetic. I text a coworker and let her know I may run a few minutes late, I have to stop to get something to eat. So you would think the suspense would be killing me to run and get a test, but it never even crossed my mind.
Weekend has arrived. Friends and I watch football games and hang out. I’m unusually tired. Figured, I had a long week at work, stressful stuff lately, just need some good rest. So I call it a Saturday night around 9pm.
Wake up on Sunday 9/1 and just feel “off.” I felt like I needed to take a test. My husband hates the line tests, he prefers the digitals where it isn’t up to the eye of the beholder. I had 1 line test left. I figure oh well use it up before he comes home, pee on it. I usually pee in a cup, this time I didn’t even care to. Left it on the counter. A few minutes water I walk past it and I’m shocked, astounded, and almost passed out. The line was so there it wasn’t even a joke.
I then do a crazy dance in an attempt to force whatever is left into my bladder to use up my last digital test. Because the husband only believes those. Digital confirms it.
I call my best friend in tears. (can’t reach husband at work). I was so happy. We finally had a little peanut. There is but one problem, I am still having this spotting. Being the neurotic person that I am, I Google. I calm my nerves realizing that spotting can be normal and it is not an alarming color or amount and no cramping. I finally get to tell husband, he is in disbelief until he sees the digital, then he is ecstatic as I am.
Labor day comes and goes. Spoke with nurse who advises me to take it easy and come in first thing 9/3 in the morning. I get a chance to talk to husband about how we should share the news and we make the decision to tell a few friends and close family. This decision came with my preparedness that things may not work out. And if it doesn’t work out, I will need the support of my loved ones. Not to mention, if they can see the struggles we go through, they may be more cautious when approaching us about when are we starting a family.
Tuesday 9/3. First ob/gyn appointment as a pregnant woman. I was glowing so much I’m surprised no one asked me what bronzer I had on. I’m thirsty, yawn every 5 seconds, I’m gassy. I’m loving every little pregnancy symptom. When nurse did office HPT she told me it turned positive instantly. Doctor congratulates me, checks cervix – looks good, reassures me the spotting is residual, draws blood and wishes me a good afternoon. Had some diarrhea off and on this day.
Wednesday 9/4. I’m at work and diarrhea strikes again. This time, I see an alarming color when I wipe. I take a moment, collect myself, and reassure myself that it wasn’t a lot and no cramping. Let’s watch it and see what happens. About 30 minutes later, I was standing up and felt something. I panic and go to the bathroom and see a quarter sized amount of reddish blood. I immediately burst into tears and call the nurse. She advises me to go home and keep my feet up as the blood work isn’t back yet.
9/4 ends and no blood work has resulted. I am upset, but calm myself by knowing I haven’t had any more red bleeding, no cramps.
9/5 comes. The nurse calls me in the morning and says my progesterone is very low and the HCG is 160. At this point, one could say I’m “6 weeks” according to LMP, though I don’t ovulate on CD14, so in protective manner I agree with her that one HCG needs another HCG to be compared to. She doesn’t tell me the progesterone number, I know low is low and I’ll probably need supplements. So I anxiously go get another HCG drawn, nurse orders it stat. Lab says they have 4 hours to result it back to the doctor. I get a call around 4pm.
The HCG dropped to 85 and she reluctantly tells me the progesterone on Tuesday was 2.9. Knowing I am a RN and have been TTC for a little while, she knows I understand what all the above means. We have few moments of silence and I begin to cry. The nurse I have come to adore and trust tries to reassure me there is a future still.
She reminds me that we know my husband and I are capable of conceiving that is a good thing.
She reassures me that even though the progesterone was a mere 2.9, it could have been higher and just now dropping with impending menstruation. We will never know.
She reassures me that mother nature has a way of taking care of things as they are meant to be and right now this is what needs to happen.
As a RN and a neurotic TTC, I cry to her and ask is it really over? She knows I know the answer. I tell her, I just have to hear it. She gets silent and reminds me of what I already know to be true, my little peanut has angel wings.
I hang up the phone and lay here and cry. I cannot help but think about the little peanut and what happened. I wish I could have seen my little peanut on an ultrasound next week as planned, I wish I could have known if my little peanut was a boy or a girl.
My husband tries to call me on the satellite phone and he can’t hear me. I am left to message him this news. The man I love so much doesn’t understand female physiology or pregnancy and what HCG means. I do my best to explain.
He asks if there is anything we can do to make it go back up. I tenderly try to explain why that can’t happen.
He asks if there is any hope left or if I can get another test tomorrow. I admire my husband’s attempts to understand. He knows I don’t ever give up. I explain this is the end of this experience.
The amazing man I love so much tells me that we can keep trying. We have to get past this and be strong. He reassures me there is nothing we can do differently but try and do everything we can do make it successful. For this, I love him even more.
I’m laying here in shock and disbelief that this has been the worst and best week of my life. I never got to see my little peanut’s face, though we shared a few beautiful moments together. I would lay in the bathtub and stare at my belly and wonder if it’s a boy or a girl. Every wave of nausea or food aversion, I would smile and think wow we have a picky eater in there. My precious cargo.
I was excited to write this as a positive inspiration to those TTC to show that when you really don’t think it is going to happen, it will. Now I write this in tears because my joy has been taken from me. Every time I saw angel wings on someone’s profile a part of me ached for them. Now I feel a whole new level of sadness.
If you took the time to read this and are TTC, just know that there are ups and downs. Know that you need to communicate well with your significant other. Know that it is okay to share your experiences with those that love you. Sharing this experience with my coworkers has brought me a whole new appreciation for how close knit of a group we are and they have been nothing short of amazing. It was painful to go back to my family and tell them that May 1st 2014 is no longer a date to be on the calendar. They most respectfully shared condolences.
I chose to continue to share this experience openly so that anyone else in a similar boat as me can know they are not alone. As a nurse I tell patients, we don’t always get the answers we want. I now must listen to my own advice.
I want you to know that sharing this experience with those that love you will make them better able to see what you are going through. I want you to know that our peanut angels were still our babies no matter how young they were. I think that next time someone asks me if I have any children, I’ll answer them with yes. I have one angel that wasn’t ready to meet the world yet. It was never a child that I was able to rock to sleep, kiss their forehead or teach them how to walk. I loved my unborn baby more than you can imagine. Love from the moment I knew my peanut existed.
Stay strong.
