Even though it wasn’t quite the circus that it was last time, I did get a bunch of sweet messages:
Here’s the text I sent my sister:
On the bus ride into the city, I got inspired by The Berry’s Morning Coffee post:
After I got off the train I rode the escalator up to street level. While Coldplay’s Paradise serenaded my eardrums, I noticed a woman with the telltale inner elbow medical tape bandage proving she had just come from a New Hope monitoring appointment. Immediately behind her was a very pregnant woman. Together we formed the past, the present and the future. Maybe it was the Coldplay influence, but I swear, in that moment it felt like all was right in the universe.
Here’s my babies’ first picture:
Aren’t they adorable?!
Here’s the wittiness you missed because you didn’t “like” my Beloved Burnt Toast Facebook Fan Page yet:
The transfer went fine, as I knew it would. This was my first time talking to Dr. L since the day which shall not be mentioned, and she had a lot to say. Specifically, she made me reiterate over and over that the tissue results from the D&C had been normal. She was shocked about this. Could not believe it (what can I say, I’m a medical marvel, apparently). She said, and I quote, “So what are you going to do to keep this from happening again?” JUST LIKE I TOLD YOU SHE WOULD SAY. Like I have control over it or something. I should mention that when she said this, I was already in my cap and gown, legs up, lady parts out, embryos thawed on a little table on the other side of the room, but despite all this I did think for a moment that she was going to stop everything and make me hash out my very own Miscarriage Prevention Plan. Of course, she did not. She did the transfer, then made me wait a freaking hour and a half to speak with her after the procedure. It was just me, sitting there, alone with my
Her miraculous solution: baby aspirin daily. I mean… duh. I knew she was going to say that. I also have a prescription for Prednisone, which falls under the “can’t hurt, might help” category of medication. I just looked it up and it’s a immunosuppressant, which makes my heart happy. When she asked for why the pregnancy failed last time, I stuttered out some words about food allergies and she just stood there looking at me like I was insane. She gave no reaction to my ramblings; no acknowledgment, no counter-argument, nothing. It was as if she was watching a crazy person have a bad bout of verbal diarrhea. But the Prednisone script proves that she gave me a little credit, right?
She also mentioned Lovenox, which is a bit controversial and has yet to be a proven remedy against the big MC. Dr. Google says it’s “anticoagulant therapy indicated to help reduce the risk of developing DVT, or deep vein thrombosis,” so we’re back to blood clotting drama again. She said she never liked to prescribe it but desperate women started seeking out other doctors who would, and it’s become a kind of standard in NYC for recurrent losses. I bit my tongue at that – seeing as I’ve only had one loss – but she is using a wait and see approach, because it’s a “giant needle,” is “very expensive” and “is not necessarily covered by insurance.” Oh, goody.
So yeah, I’m officially PUPO (that’s pregnant until proven otherwise). One week ’til the beta!