When I sat down to write this blog, I started and stopped multiple times. I wasn’t sure what I was writing or if sharing my story was even worth it. Whenever I get personal, I want my story to help someone else along their journey. I want fewer people to feel alone when facing infertility. Have a read-through and let me know.
We got lucky with Jake. I was pleasantly surprised when our first transfer worked, especially with my lining being on the thinner side. I didn’t know I had a thin lining until my egg retrieval; that’s when I found out that my peak lining was far below the recommendation. Most clinics want a lining to be trilaminar and at least 8mm for a transfer. Mine never got past 7. We took a gamble with Jake and transferred at a 6.5, and it worked.
Prepping for Baby #2
Fast forward 15 months after Jake was born and I was ready to get pregnant again. I wouldn’t say I was anxious but certainly nervous. I had a tough first pregnancy with Jake and was nervous it would be the same. Just my luck, it was ten times worse.
To help boost my thin lining, I was back on dozens of pills every day along with 4 estrogen patches strapped across my tummy. I did weekly acupuncture, and regular exercise, ate super healthy and I stopped drinking alcohol and caffeine. Like all my patients, I did all the things and more. I got my lining to a 7 (yay!) and we moved forward with a transfer. Almost right away, I didn’t feel confident about this one. I had no symptoms, and never really ‘felt’ pregnant. I did exactly what you’re not supposed to do and took multiple home pregnancy tests before my blood test. They were all negative, not even the smallest speck of positive. Despite me shining my phone light on them and moving around my bathroom trying to convince myself it was the lighting.
Next Steps
After our negative test, I was bummed. I was upset, I started to question everything I did. Was it that tiny cup of coffee? That workout? Those two sips of wine I had the night before at my friend’s wedding? My stress at work? Deep down, I knew it wasn’t my fault but I still felt guilty. A lot of our friends were having babies and once again, I felt left behind. So we took a deep breath and tried again right away. I did all the things (again), including the dreaded progesterone in oil shots and suppositories three times per day. My butt still hurts. This time, my lining got to 6.8 and we went ahead. I tried my best to feel confident despite using a much lower-grade embryo. It is unnerving when every time you do a new transfer, the embryo grade is more often than the last one.
To avoid feeling any guilt, I took it easy the week after the transfer. I even had my amazing mom come down and help out with Jake to reduce any heavy lifting. This stuff is all theoretical but I wanted to be sure I gave it my best shot. Once again, I tested early. I looked down, saw nothing, and the tears immediately started flowing. Then I closed my eyes, set a timer and waited before reading the test again. This time, the fainted pink line was visible. To make sure I wasn’t seeing things, I took a picture. And then took more pictures 1-2x per day, for several days, watching the line grow darker until my blood test.
Cautious Optimism
My nurse called me to congratulate me on my positive test and mentioned that my beta was high. My first thought was ‘oh shit, we’re having twins’ and then I recalled it being similar to when I was pregnant with Jake. The nausea was already hitting me so I asked them to give me Diclectin. My morning sickness with Jake was bad, but I managed it with medications and rest. If only it was so easy this time. There is no rest with a toddler.
I very quickly realized how different and difficult this pregnancy was. Diclectin did nothing but make me drowsy. Between work and a busy toddler, I have zero rest. I’ve never felt so exhausted and nauseous in my entire life. At 6 weeks, I developed hyperemesis gravidarum, a severe form of nausea and vomiting. I was throwing up every hour, unable to keep any food or fluids down. I was confined to my bed or the bathroom and drove to work with a barf bag at my feet. I would finish a consult and run to the bathroom, or make up random excuses during consults and leave to throw up. My colleagues, nanny and husband straight up told me that I looked terrible.
Facing Reality
On a particularly bad day, I could barely sit up and went to the ER. The doctor told me to take Metoclopramide. This helped marginally but I was still vomiting 8-10 times per day. I was back at the ER a few days later. It’s not a good sign when the triage nurse recognizes your name. A new ER doctor told me to take the max dose of both Metoclopramide and Dicletin. This helped marginally but I was so groggy that I would barely function. A few days later, I finally got an appointment with my family doctor to discuss my options. I was rapidly losing weight and couldn’t sleep because the nausea was so bad at night. She took one look at me and prescribed me Zofran. If you haven’t heard of Zofran before, the generic name is Ondansetron. It is a very potent anti-nauseant drug that is used in patients receiving chemotherapy. I received it in an IV form at the hospital and it was the only time nausea subsided. The downside, it is incredibly expensive and may increase the risk of some birth defects.
For me, Zofran was life-changing. Taking this drug every 8 hours plus Dicletin at bedtime gave me my life back. I finally stopped losing weight and could keep solid foods down. My diet no longer consisted of crackers, sour candies and dry toast. It also made me feel incredibly guilty. I couldn’t forgive myself for taking something that could potentially harm my baby for me to feel better. I felt like I had given up and not tried hard enough.
Looking back, that was incredibly stupid. No amount of willpower was going to stop me from puking my guts out every day. Physical health aside, this pregnancy was taking a huge emotional toll on my health. I missed so many social events with friends and only left the house for work. I had no energy to take care of myself or my family. I would get home from work, put Miss Rachel on the TV for Jake and curl up in the fetal position on the couch. I questioned why we thought having a second child was a good idea when I felt miserable 24/7. Permitting myself to take medication during my pregnancy gave me my life back in so many ways.
Why I Wrote This
As I said in the beginning, I wrote this because I hope someone is touched by this story. I hope someone feels less alone on their fertility journey. I hope someone feels less guilty about taking medication during pregnancy when necessary. I hope you don’t blame yourself if your transfer was negative. I hope that someone reads this story and shares it with a friend who needs it.
