ectopic pregnancy

Chapter Four: Baby Moore is on the way

/ BethonBeauty / 1 Comment

I more than survived my surgery. After a couple months of recovery – we neared what would be our second embryo transfer. Because we had 1 little guy “on ice” we were able to forgo the full-blown IVF process and “just” do the embryo transfer phase. This still involves giving yourself meds. For me, the meds came in the form of estrogen patches and oral estrogen pills (#crazytrain), as well as progesterone shots. Shots right in the butt cheek. Nick had to administer these shots which I wasn’t happy about. During our first round of IVF I did the injections myself (Nick prepped the meds though)… I felt better having control over when the needle went into my stomach. So anyways, Nick had to learn how to do the progesterone injections. He got pretty good at it!

The day of the embryo transfer is relatively uneventful. You go to the doc office and they carefully put the embryo into your uterus. It’s painless. It’s very precise and sterile. There is a doc, nurse(s), ultrasound tech (since they watch on a screen when its transferred), and an embryologist in the room. Romantic, right?

I remember the ultrasound tech saying “oh my god, that’s a gorgeous embryo!” as they released it into my uterus (which I could see on the ultrasound screen…but barely, it’s so tiny). This made me burst out laughing which then made me panic because you’re supposed to stay very still during the procedure. I was sure I messed something up.

Once they’re done, you’re sent on your way. They no longer advise bed rest after a transfer (at least not my doc) but they told me to take it easy. Nick and I took it easy at the local bagel shop. Everything bagel, toasted with veggie cream cheese and a coffee. Oh, you thought I’d give up caffeine? Pfff. At this point, I was over depriving myself. It was also our 5-year anniversary the day we did the transfer. Between the special date and the delicious bagels and coffee – I think we had some type of lucky combination.

Now comes the fun part, you continue with the injections and have to wait 10 days to see if the embryo implants. This is a long 10 days. Go ahead and google the “10 day wait.” It’s a real thing. If you get your period, that means the embryo didn’t implant. If you don’t get your period, that could mean you’re pregnant.

Against medical recommendation, I took a pregnancy test at Day 6. I told myself…I know I’m not “supposed” to but I don’t f*ckin’ care. After last time when I held out until day 10 and legit got my period THAT morning and cried in the bathroom – I was like “I want to know NOW if this might be another big fat negative.” So, I peed on a pregnancy test. Not a fancy one but also not a cheap one. At this point, it’s like boggling your mind the money you’ve spend on this whole situation. No digital test for me at this stage.

And there it was…a very faint positive. I thought about not telling Nick. What if I got his hopes up for nothing? But, I couldn’t keep it a secret. I remember telling him as he laid on the couch watching TV. He was ecstatic. There I was…straight faced, like “yup, it’s positive but it’s really faint. I’m going to take another in the morning.” #nofunpolice

The reality is this “sciency” process does take a bit of the fun out of it.

The next morning, I took another test and there it was the same faint line. Over the next few days I told my sister – but kept it very hush hush otherwise as I waited for my official blood test. The morning of blood test, I went to the doc to get my blood drawn and then headed into work. As I walked into work I got a call from my Aunt…my Dad was in the hospital. He didn’t want me or my sister to know…but he was there and he was having heart issues.

Next thing I know, I’m at Faulkner Hospital. Which is the hospital my Dad decided to drive himself to after he went to urgent care with severe chest pains and they advised him to go to the hospital immediately. He was in good spirits and at this point we weren’t completely sure what was going on.

I got the call that we were indeed pregnant while I stood in the hallway at the hospital. I decided not to tell my Dad at this point as it was still so early in the pregnancy and I wanted him to focus on his health. Inside, I was happy and although my Dad being sick was scary, for some reason, this positive news and the realization that something was actually growing in there…gave me a sense of calm and strength I didn’t think I had.

Over the course of the next 6 weeks…my Dad was transferred to Brigham and Women to undergo a double bypass surgery. He was lucky. Had he not gone to the hospital when he did he would have had a massive heart attack. The surgery saved his life.

After a week or so of recovery in the ICU and then cardiac unit at the Brigham, my Dad moved into our house in Scituate and my sister, niece, and nephew came to stay with us for three weeks to help him recover. It was a crazy time. During most of it, I was ‘hiding’ my pregnancy from mostly everyone except those closest to us. I was going to work every day and either going to hospital after or coming home to a full house.

At about 8 weeks pregnant we had a scare. I had just gotten my hair done in town and was taking the boat home. All seemed fine at the time. But as I walked off the boat I got this weird feeling, like I had just gotten my period. It was like a sudden rush “down there.” In my head I thought “what was that? Did I get my period? This is weird.”

Once I got in the car, I reached down and touched the outside of my pants…blood had literally soaked through them. I panicked and called my sister. My sister has always been the calm one and thank god she was at our house. She told me everything could be ok and maybe it was just some spot bleeding. I drove home thinking “wow, I can’t believe this is over. No baby anymore.”

I really didn’t want to tell Nick what happened. I called the doctor and he told me that if I was still bleeding to go to the ER. Thankfully, I wasn’t. He told me it didn’t necessarily mean we lost the baby. But there I was like, “doc, this wasn’t like a little blood. This was A LOT.” He told me to take some Benadryl and come into the office in the morning for an ultrasound. I told Nick what was going on and we both slept like sh*t. The next morning we were like two zombies heading into the doc office waiting to hear the news. When we got there the nurses were very sweet and once in the ultrasound room the tech told us that she needed to look around before telling us anything. We just sat there in silence. God, that cannot be an easy job.

Finally, she goes, “ok, there it is.” And turned the screen towards us. I was like “what?” And she said “the baby, it’s right there. Everything looks fine.” I was so relieved. I think Nick was about to pass out. But I was also confused. Like, “wait, what caused that heavy bleeding? That can’t be normal?!” And she told us – that actually yes, sometimes sporadic bleeding does happen during early pregnancy and it’s not always a bad sign. Since mine was not accompanied by cramping and it tapered off, they said it was probably just old blood leaving my system. I was still baffled but grateful nonetheless.

Here we are now at 23 weeks pregnant. I have a baby registry and a bare room ready to become a nursery. I have a pot belly that my boobs pretty much rest on now. I can’t wear any of my old pants and have invested in maternity tops left and right. My mind still goes a bit haywire when people congratulate us. I’m so grateful but I also know I won’t fully believe it until I’m holding HER (her name is Baby Ellie) in my arms. Until then, I’m trying my best to take it one day at a time. I’m also trying to give other women some hope. Although I realize this road doesn’t always work out for everyone, I do have more faith now than I did before. And I’m often reminded of something someone said to me when we were in the thick of it all – “you might not have the family exactly how you pictured it in your mind’s eye but you WILL have a family one day.”

IMG_7792

This is Nana. Ellie Moores’ namesake. Also in this photo is my niece, Gianna who is 2 now.

That concludes Chapter Four. My next Chapter I’ll share a bit more about what helped me during my first trimester. Also, if there are any questions or topics people are particularly interested in, please email me. I’d love to use to fuel a future post. bethamckenna@gmail.com

Chapter Two: Time to visit the fertility doc

/ BethonBeauty / 2 Comments

The one good thing about having an ectopic pregnancy is your partner will probably feel really bad for you. Does that sound horrible? I don’t mean it to. But the fact is…Nick knew I’d been through a lot (he had too). We were told we couldn’t try to conceive for three months post methotrexate injections so…in an effort to turn lemons to lemonade, I came up with the genius idea of a vacation. Not just any vacation but one to Hawaii.

Now, if we hadn’t gone through the ectopic this vacation wouldn’t have happened. We had just bought a house after all. But Nick knew I needed something to look forward to so there I went…booked us a nice three-year anniversary trip to Maui and Kauai.

11057209_858831662875_8402284084317413621_n

There I am, near a waterfall in Maui. I selected this pic because 1) pretty sure Nick was behind the camera cursing me under his breathe for making him spend $$ on a fancy vaca. But I was loving it! 2) this tank and what is says #everybodyfights from one of my favorite gyms in Boston

Once back, after a month or so, we were back to trying for a baby the ole fashion way. During these next six-ish months I tried everything…acupuncture, special diets, special lube (hello “pre-seed”), tracking my temperature, ovulation strips, ovulation apps etc. Nada. None of it worked for us. Shove it all up ya butt. I don’t know why but I had to type that.

Then, finally, we concluded it was time to see a fertility doc. Our first fertility doc was out of Harvard Vanguard in Boston. In hindsight, he was great. We started the testing that kicks off the process. The “only” thing they found was that one of my tubes was abnormal and likely causing the infertility. They didn’t know “for sure” but assumed that was it. I was recommended for a surgery to have the tube removed. I was not ready for that, so we decided to try Clomid.

Clomid. That sh*t. I think we did 2-3 rounds. It’s much less “invasive” than IVF but damn, this medicine was my least favorite. Hot flashes, mood swings. I did not feel great on it. We did ultrasound tracking with it. Nothing. It did not work for us. We forged ahead to IVF.

I’m glad we did our first round of IVF moving into the winter. Between the meds and the constant appointments, I just wanted/needed to be in comfy clothes. Long sweaters, leggings, hide me. I’m not sure how I would have fared if we did this in the summer.

I’m not going to go through the entire process here. But I will say, yes, you have to give yourself (or have your partner give you) injections. Daily. The first night of meds I FREAKED. The idea of putting a needle in myself filled with hormones/lawd knows what, was plain unsettling. But once I just did it (it took awhile and a lot of whining)…it was ok. Nick bought fun band aids which added some comic relief. Pretty sure they were Paw patrol.

All in all, the process is about a month. But it occupies more time between the testing beforehand and then the waiting once you do the embryo transfer. Post transfer you have to wait 10 days to find out if you’re pregnant. On the 10th day I woke up prepared to go to my appointment for bloodwork (feeling hopeful because I hadn’t gotten my period) and boom…went to the bathroom and got my period that morning.

I was devastated. I didn’t even want to tell Nick. After all that “work” – we got nothing. I actually drove myself to work that morning but ended up having to pull over in a Walgreens parking lot because I was so upset. I told myself to go to work because all I could think at the time was “we’ll have to do this again?! I’ll need more time off. What am I going to do?” Now, if I could share some advice to anyone going through this – please, cut yourself some slack. I ended up texting a friend at work, told her what happened, and asked if she’d cover a couple meetings. Thank goodness for her. Then, I drove home and got in bed.

The hardest part really was the “after.” Nick was shocked…and he told me he would have “bet a million dollars we were pregnant.” This enraged me, to be honest. There is around a 40% chance (for women UNDER 35, I’m 34) with any given cycle that it’ll be successful. It’s not a silver bullet. Hey, I thought it was too before I actually went through it. Dealing with my emotions was one thing but having to see your partner hurt too is really hard. Then, couple that with the crash (that I felt, at least) when suddenly you’re taken off all the meds. I didn’t realize it at the time but my emotions were heightened by the fact that I had been taking all these drugs/hormones and suddenly off. Cold turkey. Again, poor Nick, I’m pretty sure he was scared of me during this time.

My sister and close friends carried me through. When people ask me what helped / how they can help a friend going through this process. I tell them, just be there, just reach out, check in. 90% of the advice I was offered wasn’t helpful. Don’t get me wrong, I understand. I’m the first one to offer advice in hopes that I can help someone. But really, telling me I needed to just relax, or try this diet, or go to this doctor, or just give it more time, did not make me feel better. What did was just saying hi, checking in, and offering an ear to listen. Or how about ‘wanna get a mani?’ Yes. As simple as that. But then again, what I also learned about myself during this process is that I have a tendency to sometimes get quiet when tough things happen to people. Not because I don’t care – but the opposite. I want so badly to help, to somehow relieve some pain, but I don’t know what to say, or I fear saying the wrong thing and it makes me shut down. So, if there is one thing I learned and would tell others, just reach out. No one is perfect. A simple card, a text is enough. Just show up.

This about concludes chapter 2. My next chapter is about my surgery. The surgery that thankfully got us to this current pregnancy. But I’ll tell you now, I wasn’t sure it would work at the time.

Chapter One: The beginning of our journey

/ BethonBeauty / 5 Comments

Our “journey to a family” (someone suggested I use this phrase vs. “infertility journey”) started back in Spring/Summer 2015. We had found a house in the ‘burbs. We were doing what a lot of couples do “trying but not really trying” to have a baby. It had probably been almost 6 months of that, maybe more.

By June(ish) 2015 we were pregnant! I remember the day I held the positive test in my hand and showed Nick in the kitchen. I’ll never forget how excited we were. I literally jumped in into his arms and we danced around the kitchen in our new house. I still savor this moment because we were completely, purely happy.

But…our bliss only lasted a few days.

Within a short time it was clear something wasn’t right. I started bleeding one morning and ended up at the doctor’s office. I remember being told we were likely miscarrying and there wasn’t much to do but let “nature take its course.” We were upset but in the back of my mind, I also thought…well ok, I guess this is a good sign, we got pregnant and we weren’t really “trying.”    

Little did I know…something funky was going on…

I was still getting a positive pregnancy test days later. The doctor told me to come into the office immediately. After some blood work, it was found my hormone levels had actually risen very slightly after all the bleeding and I was sent to get an ultrasound where they discovered we had an ectopic pregnancy. I remember calling our nurse from Harvard Vanguard from the random ultrasound office in Brookline, I was crying a lot. She did her best to calm me down. I didn’t really know what an ectopic meant, I just knew I had been holding out hope that we were actually pregnant and things were ok – but this scan proved not so much.

An ectopic pregnancy is when a pregnancy happens in the fallopian tube. An ectopic is dangerous because the tube can burst causing internal bleeding. It’s something you need to take care of immediately.

Over the course of the next two weeks – my doctor recommended rather than surgery to remove the ectopic, that I take an injection of the drug called methotrexate. A chemo drug that kills fast growing cells and one that’s commonly used to “dissolve” ectopic pregnancies. I got a shot of it right in my butt cheek. At the time, Nick and I were just going through the motions, doing what we needed to do. They tested my blood every other day to confirm my hormone levels were dropping…no such luck. I had to go back (I believe it was on a Saturday or Sunday) for another dose. I remember sitting in the maternity ward of Beth Israel waiting for my second methotrexate shot. I kept thinking, “why in the f&ck do they have me in the MATERNITY ward?” We obviously hoped the second dose would work – otherwise, I’d have to go in for surgery.

Fast forward, I’m watching the Real Housewives of OC episode when Vicky’s mom died. The episode was riveting. I remember cramps starting and getting progressively worse. By the end of the episode, I wasn’t sure if I was having sympathy pains or what. But I ended up calling the doctor on call (it was a Sunday night, I think?) and they advised me to get to the ER. Poor Nick, drove through the windy back roads of the S. Shore while I told (maybe I yelled?) him to “slow down the bumps hurt!” and “hurry up, just get there!” I was in a lot of pain. They thought maybe the ectopic had burst and I was bleeding internally. I kept picturing blood filling my abdomen. By the time we got to South Shore hospital I could hardly walk. Hunched over, I walked into the ER and sat in a wheelchair. I also remember being surprised when the front desk insisted on my insurance information. I was like “what?! I’m like dying here!” I clearly wasn’t dying…but I was definitely emotionally distressed and in some serious pain.

I ended up in the ER overnight on morphine. After a few scans, they told me nothing had burst but the pain was likely the ectopic finally dissolving. I was like “what?!” I was sure I was bleeding out…but no, (thankfully) this was just the type of pain the whole process can cause. Nick stayed next to me all night sitting upright in a hard chair. I, at least laid in bed with warm blankets and morphine.

The next day I had a couple ultrasounds to confirm the ectopic was in fact dissolving. Thankfully, it was. I also got extremely sick from the morphine. Bringing the whole “sickness and health” thing to a new level…Nick held barf bags while I threw up. Literally, I was laying on a gurney out in the open in the ultrasound area just barfing. Typing this now it actually brings tears to my eyes because I remember thinking about how awful I felt but Nick probably felt just as helpless and had stayed with me the whole time then had to head right to work.

During this whole thing I missed a couple of days of work. Looking back now, I pushed myself to “just get through it” and not make a “big deal of things.” Which did me no favors. After all, it was a big deal. I paid for it emotionally down the line. I don’t think I gave myself ample time to process it all.

One of the hardest things was when the doctor’s told us we couldn’t try for three months after the methotrexate injections because we had to wait for it to fully pass through my system (it’s quite toxic). At the time that was devastating news – we couldn’t just try again next month and put this behind us?! We had to wait THREE whole months!? Little did I know it would be another 2 ½ years and multiple fertility treatments before we’d ever see another “plus sign.” Definitely for the better that I didn’t know that then.

This is part 1 of my journey. The good news is…there’s a light at the end of the tunnel but I’m here to share my true, full journey in hopes that it helps someone else. Or at least brings more awareness to the things we women, we couples, go through on our “journey to a family.”