Forced Perspective

    January is at least 49 days long and is just miserable, but on the bright side we’ve had several test results come in. Kevin’s first analysis came back normal, which was totally expected as this test has always been normal and I don’t usually struggle to conceive. But, he’s ✨35✨ now so I guess we’re getting old in fertility years. Every test that comes back with fantastic results is a huge sigh of relief. 

    Mostly, we were concerned about his DNA fragmentation results and oxidative stress. Just under a decade ago, his results in those areas were so bad that it gave us a “poor” chance of a live birth. These tests don’t show up on a normal analysis and have to be processed at a special lab across the country. I stayed pretty optimistic because a year after his surgery in 2015, his numbers did return to normal and were still great in 2019. But deep down, I just felt like the results would not be good news and all of this would be over. I was patient until it was time for results to come in. I tried not to compulsively check for results. Then we got a message saying the results were going to be delayed for up to two more weeks due to the storms on the East Coast 🙃. Frustrating, but at least it helped me relax while waiting. 

     In the meantime, I went in for my baseline ultrasound and blood draws. I did have a cyst on one side (shocking I know 😑) so they had to run an estradiol on my blood to make sure it wouldn’t affect any test results before sending blood off for my Ovarian Assessment. Luckily, it was not in a place that would affect results and the only inconvenience was the extra bill. 

    My ultrasound showed good news, I had ten little follicles waiting to mature on both sides! I felt so proud of the way my body was working properly, especially after all we’ve been through. My ovarian assessment results actually were sent off and returned while we were still waiting for Kevin’s results. My egg supply score was in the “excellent” category. My AMH was high: 88th percentile. I haven’t heard from my doctor regarding this specific test, and it’s not a diagnostic test on its own. But high AMH is often associated with PCOS. I dabble frequently with ovarian cysts, but my OB told me a few years ago she didn’t feel I had enough symptoms of PCOS to explore the idea further.

    At last, Kevin's DNA fragmentation/oxidative stress results came in. I took a deep breath before opening the file, knowing that if results had backslid, it would likely be the end of the journey.

    The relief and joy I felt seeing this! I was surprised, I really was prepared for a poor outcome. It has been 9 years since Kevin's surgery and I am thrilled that the results have held. The reproductive urologist wasn’t even sure if that surgery would accomplish anything. The only treatment for Kevin going forward is taking supplements to support healthy fertility and keep oxidative stress in check. I'm getting started on some of my supplements also. I need to take quite a few more than Kevin. A new one this time around is Selenium, which has been shown to possibly reduce Hashimoto's antibodies and thereby reduce the risk of miscarriage. My Vitamin D levels also came back at vampire level, so I've started on Vitamin D again too.  

    My IUD will be removed in a couple weeks, and after waiting 4-6 weeks for the inflammation to decrease, I'll have my repeat endometrial biopsy. If it comes back positive again for endometritis, I'll have to do treatment again. I really hope it's negative. The month of hard core antibiotics almost killed me last time. Absolutely brutal. 

    The last test to complete is the sonohysterography to make sure everything still looks good and there aren’t any physical issues with my womb that need addressing. After that, we should be able to make a decision about moving forward. I just need to save up another cool million dollars for these tests. Just kidding. But that's what it feels like. Especially since the discouraging news regarding a payroll error which has resulted in us owing hella taxes. Just one more frustrating setback. The good thing is, I feel sure that this is the last time. The last initial consult; the last battery of tests. Once it’s all paid for and plans are in place, it’s either going to work, or it’s not. And I think that will be the end of it. 

    I’m thankful we’ve overcome the impossible before, because even if it doesn’t work out again, I still get to glimpse the impossible watching my rainbow baby. You never know when something is going to bring up emotions, and a couple weeks ago it happened in one of the weirdest places. Aidia needed a renal ultrasound to double check her kidneys (everything’s fine). During the scan I was looking at all the little perfectly working structures in her kidneys and I almost started crying! It took me right back to my ultrasounds during my pregnancy with her; seeing her perfect heart and all her organs functioning like a beautiful machine with all their intricate parts. She is perfect and incredible and I still am in awe that she exists. 

 

    I also see the impossible while watching Jack, who was a miracle even before I knew that he was. He’s an exceptional person; talented, ambitious, and driven in a way that I didn’t know children could be. Maybe not in the traditional honor student way, but in perusing his passions (and everything else be damned). He reads long biographies of Einstein, Hamilton, Elon Musk, and Steve Jobbs. I see how he relates to people with dreams that most people weren’t ready to understand. I don’t always understand him, but I want to support him, and somehow still parent him in any way that I can (wish us luck).

    Therapy has been so helpful in unraveling all my different motivations and emotions that have mixed together through the years. It’s been very healing to do “parts work” (Look it up, it’s not as weird as it sounds). Therapy has helped me feel more settled regardless of the outcome and it’s brought more peace. I have a lot more grace for myself, specifically for my younger self. I was doing the best I could without knowing as much as I’ve worked out now. I’m starting to believe that a person can find peace even in painful circumstances when you do enough internal work. I am thankful to age because of the growth that has come with each year of life. I want to put in the work to change any circumstances that control over. Doing this fosters an environment of peace. I don’t think I ever really believed that before.

 

    I’ve been learning how to work through trauma in therapy. I came to my current therapist having previously been diagnosed with PTSD by two other therapists, and still felt guilt over the trauma label. Like I was being dramatic. My therapist explained that most of us automatically assume “real” trauma is rape or war, and that’s it. But in reality, trauma is not an “event.” If you want to read more about this, I highly recommend this Article I found online.

    This year is really the first time I’ve ever truly considered the risk to my own health and life. Especially considering the involvement of blood thinners, etc. Maternal mortality is a terrifying and awful thing. For the first time, I got scared. I realized I could never leave the two children that I have. Fortunately, no doctor has suggested that it’s too dangerous for me to try for another child. I just don’t want to push it too far.   

    I have a hard time with the idea of not wrapping up my family on my own terms with a nice little bow, but that’s rarely the way life works. It is hard not to know when it’s the “last time.” Last baby. It’s hard to imagine finding out my baby was, in fact, my last baby when she’s already 7 years old. But that’s part of being human, being mortal. We never know when something is the last time. As my anxiety so often reminds me, you never know when it might be the last time you see or speak to someone. We only have the moment! 

    I’m grateful I enjoyed Aidia’s babyhood, preschool years, and all the early “firsts” because I knew she was my miracle baby. I soaked it in and savored it as much as I constantly could. At least I didn’t take her for granted. My miscarriages started when Jack was only 13 months old, so I filled his baby and toddlerhood with everything I could, too. It may be a forced perspective but I’m thankful that I have loved each stage with my children. I’m going to do my best to continue that. It helps to remember that I have lots more to look forward to, even if I have to adjust my expectations about having any more children. 

 

    I continue to filter many conflicting thoughts. I’m 16 months into night shifts and I’m definitely feeling the shift work sleep disorder. I don’t dare start on a med for insomnia right now when I’m about to try to quit all my meds. I love my job and want to stay at my current hospital for now. But, I worry if progesterone supplementation would be enough to balance out any issues with hormone regulation and circadian rhythm problems. With fibromyalgia, I depend so much on medicine to make it through the day (and night) and wonder if I would really survive not taking anything. But would I survive never trying for a last baby? I don’t think so. 

    I probably need to take some of the responsibility off myself. If a pregnancy is healthy, it’s pretty hard to hurt the baby accidentally. If I lost one, it would probably be due to factors beyond my control. Most moms have to continue working through pregnancies and push themselves through hard shifts. I think I have to remove some of that guilt and anxiety that working would make me lose an otherwise healthy baby. All these thoughts reaffirm to me that this is what I want right now. More than travel, more than financial freedom. One way or another I’ll be able to close this chapter and focus on all the other exciting things life has to offer. No more living in limbo. Thank you everyone for your kind thoughts when reading this very personal journal I post on the internet, I will keep the updates coming. 😉