Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Limbo = Torture

I'm an emotional wreck this afternoon. My dog doesn't know what to make of me, though she enjoys licking the snot off my face.

Such a strange experience, going back to the scene of the crime, the same waiting room, three years shabbier, sitting next to J~, feeling excited, optimistic (I'd been nauseous since last night, first time in weeks); it had to be a good sign. Or nerves.

There was little to see on the ultrasound - something that looked like it could be the fetal sac, something that looks like it could be a yolk sac, "but not quite right" said the ultrasound tech, a calm, careful woman in her late forties. She focused in on a little lump, but said she could see no fetal pole. No heartbeat. The "sac" measures 6 weeks 2 days, she told us, then she measured my ovaries, a protrusion in the fallopian tube, asked me repeatedly if I'd had any pain on one side or the other (no) and then took the pictures to the doctor.

His pronouncement? Possibly too soon to tell. Order hCG quants today (Tuesday) and again on Thursday.

So many things I didn't think to do: I didn't ask for progesterone testing. When she mentioned something about thickened endometrium, about a possible cyst, I didn't follow up on these either, just like I didn't ask if my ovaries looked as they should to support a pregnancy at this stage, didn't ask what exactly was wrong-looking about the sac? How much variation is normal according to dates? After all, I'm pretty sure I'm 6w6d, not 6w2d...

I did say, "I'd rather hear now that it's a long shot than hold out false hope. You've seen a lot of these. Do you really think there's any chance?" The tech took a breath, a moment to think. I know she can't contradict the doctor. I was asking an impossible question. Finally she spoke. "It took me seventeen years to get my one child. I wouldn't want to rule out even the smallest thread of hope."

I cried in the parking lot, explained to J~ my hunch, that the big concern for the doctor is that if my numbers are still going up, to make sure the pregnancy is developing in my uterus rather than in the tube or outside. If my numbers are hovering around the same or going down, then the highest likelihood is confirmed: the pregnancy is not developing as it should. Sooner or later, I will miscarry.

J~ went on to work, I went on to the lab for the blood work. And then I came home and ate lunch, scoured the internet for information, hopeful or not. Didn't find much either way. Talked to a loved one on the phone, the best kind - someone who offers no advice, encourages me to cry, and listens supportively while I do.

Next, I'll write an email to my client telling her I'm going to give myself the rest of the day to be an emotional wreck (she knows what's going on). I'll plant some string beans and beets. And then I'll go to the plant nursery where I'll buy basil, parsley, and flowers. I'll take the dog to the water so she can splash around. And then I'll come home to hug my husband. And to move forward with life.

5 comments:

Mel @ The Preconceptionist said...

String beans and beets are comforting. I hope they give you peace.

Suzanne said...

Amy, I'm so sorry.

I know this particular feeling and it is the very worst. The very worst ever.

I am sorry. Even if it turns out OK, this feeling your are experiencing right now is something I wouldn't wish on anyone.

Always here if you need an ear....xo

missedconceptions said...

Saying I am sorry doesn't mean much, I know, but having been there, it is awful.

Limbo IS torture.

I watched my pregnancy die via ultrasound over the course of 2 weeks (non-viable heart rate) and those were the longest two weeks of my life.

As best you can, be at peace. And if you can't do that, do whatever else you need to do.

Panamahat said...

I'm sorry you are finding yourself in limbo. The worst place to be. I don't have anything helpful to say, unless it gives you any comfort to know that many of your readers have been there many times and understand. Thinking of you while you wait for a conclusive answer.

Emily said...

limbo is the very worst place to be, and I hate it with every fiber of my being.

did they give you any beta numbers?