So much to say and no time to say it...

I can't leave for a week of adventure in Scotland without posting the first picture of our miracle - who we're lovingly calling "Bubba The Miracle".

At 6w2d Bubba measured 4,6mm with a heart rate of 118, and my HCG levels were over 100,000!! Dr. Swedish was convinced we had two in there and searched for quite a while, but could only find one :)

Lots of love to all of you my lovelies!!

A teeny tiny update

About an itsy bitsy heart beat.

It seems this miracle is not just a fiction of my imagination.

I'm in awe and really happy I have ears so my smile don't split my head in two.

Amazing. Just amazing.

July 12, 2010

Over the past nine months I've looked at this date in my calendar so many times, wondering what I would feel on this day. Expecting sadness and a feeling of loss, secretly hoping the day would come and go without much fuzz.

Here it is. Acrobat's expected due date.

In my heart I believe our Acrobat was never meant to be in my arms. From the very beginning there was all this drama, and although I hoped and prayed with all my being for a different outcome, deep down I think I knew it wouldn't turn out the way we wished.

Loosing the Acrobat taught me so many things.  It taught me to trust my body to know how to heal. It taught me to see sunshine through the rain and the outpouring of love from friends and strangers in a time of darkness. It taught me to trust in the higher order of things, and it taught me to be strong when I was feeling weak.

I'm forever grateful for getting through a grief that knocked the air out of me, and for surfacing on the other side a stronger person. I'm grateful for the short time Acrobat was with us.

Today is so different from anything I ever expected. I'm five weeks and four days pregnant with a miracle. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

Life finds a way.

One moment I'm struggling to believe this is really happening, and the next I'm laughing like a crazy person. I'm overwhelmed with gratefulness and hope, but also consumed with fear and doubt.
Could this truly be the kind of miracle that you think is just an urban legend? 


The night of the 2nd, me and Diver Dude got a little crazy and ordered a last minute trip to Sweden. 12 hours from the idea was hatched we landed in Denmark and boarded the train to Sweden and surprised my whole family. The look on their faces when we showed up in their backyard was priceless. 


We had a wonderful weekend filled with lazy days on the beach for Mamma, Sister, Nephew and me, golf for Diver Dude, Pappa and Mr. Sister, good food, fierce card games, and lots of laughter. The small fact that my Bloody Monster was missing in action an increasing period of time I simply blamed on the heat wave, traveling and good living (i.e. a few extra pounds that have snuck on my body over the past couple of months). 


On our way home Monday night, Diver Dude asked me if Aunt Flo had showed up yet, and I said no. He asked how late I was, I quickly calculated with the help of my fingers and was surprised with the answer of six days. 
- Could you be pregnant? His question nearly knocked me out of my seat. But when I added up the sore boobs, the nausea spells and the obvious lack of bleeding/spotting, a tiny light of that insane hope started flickering. I told him that if it wasn't for the fact that I knew it was nearly impossible I'd almost think so. We decided I should pee on a stick in the morning to at least rule it out.


Yesterday morning I woke up around five with a bladder that was about to burst. I ran in to the bathroom, sat down to release the Niagara Falls and suddenly remembered what I was supposed to do. Pinched off before I started and scrambled to find a cup to pee in, aimed carefully and released again. Then I tore off the clear plastic, opened the card board box, ripped open the inner foil case, removed the blue cover and dipped the cotton part in my steaming pee. And then I watched as that magic blue plus sign appeared right before my eyes in mere seconds.


- Holy sh#t! was what came out of my mouth and Diver Dude asked what was going on. I grabbed the stick, showed it to him laying in bed, smiled like an idiot and screamed: - I'm freakin' pregnant! He immediately echoed my initial classy statement and then started laughing. I jumped in bed with him and we looked at each other in chock between awkward hugs and nervous laughter. - Can you believe we did it on our own?


And the funny thing is, when I look back through my diary I've realized that this miracle must've been conceived the morning Diver Dude changed his mind. Yeah, really. It's the stuff fairy tales are made of. I just couldn't make this up even if I tried. And, urban legend or not, me and Diver Dude - him with obstructive azoospermia and me with only one proven functional tube - appear to be pregnant without any medical intervention. It seems life has found a way.

You didn't think I wouldn't POAS again did you?

Dear Bloody Monster. You're fired.

Last time you went MIA for three days, I told you I'd fire you if you ever pulled that stunt again.



Needless to say, after seven days of tardiness I have no other choice.

You're fired!

But...

If you stay away for nine months, you'll be promoted...

And right now, it looks like you'll get a raise too...

I don't know what to say, it's a bloody miracle!!

Pardon me while I flip out!!

UPDATE: For some reason comments are not showing, but I'm getting them all. Thank you for all the love, promise a longer post as soon as I get my hands to stop shaking :)

That warm fuzzy feeling...

It just isn't there anymore.
Between me and the Swedish clinic that is.
It seems the more questions I ask, the less love I'm getting back.

I sent an email about a week ago to Dr. Boss Lady and haven't heard back so today I decided to call. My favorite Nurse Inga answered the phone and was happy to hear we're looking at joining the circus again this fall. She immediately gave me the tentative run-down of "wandings", "shoot-ups", "pick-ups" and transfers, but I stopped her in her happy ramblings by saying:

- I do have a few questions before we commit to anything.


She asked me to go ahead, and I started down my list of questions for Dr. Boss Lady:

• Our first round of IVF gave us four blastocysts. The fresh transfer resulted in a miscarriage. Our first FET was negative (with a faint second line that disappeared the day after). Our two remaining blasts did not survive the thaw.
Do you have any theories about why we had a statistically bad outcome? Egg, sperm, and/or embryo quality? Immune problems or a combination? Any suggestions to improve the stats this time is greatly appreciated.

Nurse Inga: - You realize we have very high standards for the embryos we freeze here, and there's an 8% risk of embryos not surviving the thaw in spite of being top notch.
Me (thinking, not saying): - Um, yeah, but last time I checked 2/3 is more like 66%. If this happened in any other situation I'd assume the team responsible would at least have an internal discussion of what went wrong.

• Do you believe that we can increase our chances by going through additional testing? Karyotype and immunology testing.
Should I have a hysteroscopy to look for polyps since I'm experiencing similar symptoms as before my polypectomy in Feb 2009?

Nurse Inga: - I'm writing, immune testing, polyps...

• I've heard of positive effects of using baby aspirin in combination with IVF, I also understand that there's no studies to prove it. My question is: Can it hurt?

• Egg retrieval of my left ovary was complicated because of its location and required the pain management nurse to assist the doctor by pressing down on my abdomen, leaving her unable to administer more meds. Can I request an additional person in the OR?

Nurse Inga: - Oh my, I'm sorry to hear that, we'll make sure a third person is available for your retrieval this time. You shouldn't be in pain.
Me, (thinking): - You think! (saying): - That would be great.

• Diver Dude's planned PESA turned in to a TESA when they were unable to find a sufficient amount of sperm. Is there any reason for a back-up plan such as donor sperm?

Nurse Inga: - Well, we don't have a donor program at our clinic...
Me, saying this time: - What? so what happens if there's no sperm? We just pack up and go home?

• Can you send my prescriptions here, or can a family member pick them up at the pharmacy for me?

• If necessary can I have some of the evaluating ultrasounds done locally?

• Could you please send copies of our medical records, electronically or via snail mail?

When I finished my list of can-do?'s the other end of the line was quiet.
- Hello? Are you still there? Nurse Inga let out a small sigh and asked me if I would like to schedule a phone consult with Dr. Boss Lady. I told her it sounded like a good idea and we agreed that August 11 would be a good day. After Nurse Inga promised to send our record promptly we ended the conversation.

Now I've got a bad taste in my mouth. I shouldn't feel like I'm inconveniencing them by calling. I shouldn't feel pushy or rude for not wanting to be "just a patient" and demand personal attention. Should I? This clinic in Sweden has one of the best statistics in Europe and the their prices for treatment is about half of what it is here in England, and oceans away from american IVF costs... Should I just trust that they know what they're doing and go with it?

I could get a second opinion, but I'm not sure we could really afford going anywhere else. Possibly another clinic in Sweden... I don't know, I don't think that I have much of a choice.

Any success stories you have of pregnancy in spite of a less than perfect relationship with your clinic and/or RE would be greatly appreciated. Or, I guess, success stories of changing clinics/REs would be helpful too.

Glad Midsommar!

Today in Sweden, my family and friends are celebrating Midsummer. It's a holiday originating in pagan times to celebrate the summer solstice and to sacrifice in the sign of the norse godess of fertility, Freya. It's a celebration of the longest day of summer, a day to dress your maypole (or in my family's tradition, an old lamp post in the front yard) with flowers and dance around it, a feast when you eat new potatoes, herring and freshly picked strawberries, and a time when all the girls put flowers in their hair. Ever since I was a little girl it's been my absolute favorite holiday.

One of the traditional things to do as a young, unmarried girl is to go out in the midsummer night in silence and pick seven different flowers. You then place the flowers under your pillow and that night you will supposedly dream of the boy whom you'll marry. I have many memories of me and my sister picking flowers after dark trying not to giggle and break the silence, but I can't remember any dreams of a future husband.

In 2004 on midsummer's day I married Diver Dude for the second time. Surrounded by family and friends, standing in front of a dressed maypole, we repeated our vows to each other. It was a perfect day. It rained a lot, and the priest was so nervous about speaking english he nearly forgot to bless our rings and pause for my sister's solo, but it was perfect. 

I may never have dreamt about who my husband would be, but every day I wake up next to him I know he's The One. 

Today we celebrate our sixth anniversary of our second wedding and in spite of being in England I'll put flowers in my hair, eat some good traditional swedish food and possibly also dance around some kind of phallic symbol :)

Glad Midsommar! Happy Midsummer!