Monday 10/12/2015: No yolk sac seen on ultrasound. 5w54. Huge bummer, but not the final straw.
Wednesday 10/14/2015: Dr. C tells me he sees the beginning of yolk sac. 5w6d. Cautiously hopeful.
Wednesday 10/14/2015: Dr. L confirms that he too sees the beginning of a yolk sac. 5w6d. Hopefulness increases.
Friday 10/16/2015: Dr. L tells me that not only does he see a yolk sac, he also sees the very beginnings of a fetal pole. 6w1d. Super encouraging. Hopefulness increases some more.
Monday 10/19/2015: Dr. O (who is Dr. L’s associate) “apologizes for the miscommunication” and tells me there’s neither a yolk sac or a fetal pole. 6w4d. Confused, angry, dejected, perplexed, heartbroken.
As it stands, I don’t know who to believe.
These doctors no, this entire “fertility treatment” medical system has me completely disgusted. How does one “miscommunicate” whether there’s a yolk sac and fetal pole?! A doctor, no less! What kind of shady operation are these guys running here?
On one side of the ring I have Dr. C ready to administer me a potion of methotrexate—which is used for cancer patients to kill cancer cells, but apparently has the bonus side effect of also dissolving gestational sacs. On the other side of the ring, Dr. L was ready to give me a D&C like yesterday to remove “the products of conception” (what a despicable term). Everywhere I turn, doctors are trying to take away my embryo. This is the second half of what I didn’t get to yesterday. But I won’t let them. I think these doctors need to seriously back up off me and leave well enough alone. Of course I understand about blighted ovums, and, yeah, that’s what this looks like; but I also understand that it’s TOO EARLY and that I don’t believe embie implanted right away. Embie not implanting right away means I’m not as far along as they think I am. Sure, I’m no doctor, but I still have somewhat of a clue and like to think i still have a fighting chance .
I told Dr. L yesterday that, despite his wishes, I wouldn’t be back until next week for follow up. I rejected his offer of a D&C. I told him that it’s too early and they’re stressing me out. When Dr. C called me up to check on me yesterday and ask that I come in for blood work, I informed him that I need a break, don’t see the point in coming in, and that I declined both a b/w appointment and to fill his script for methotrexate. Neither of them like it, but they can’t do a thing about it.
In case you can’t tell, I’m angry: I’m angry with my doctors for
scaring terrifying me, possibly needlessly. I’m angry that they keep writing me off and trying to take away what I’ve fought for. I’m angry about the stress of this entire shitty process. I’m angry that I might be pregnant with an empty sac, emitting hcg into my body like some sick alien sound wave. I’m angry with my body for not doing the one thing it was made to do. I’m angry I got involved in all this in the first place.
I’m a dichotomy of emotions. I haven’t given up—refuse to give up—and am still praying and believing God and His Word. I’m also extremely exhausted mentally and wonder if I’m just sticking my head in the sand to avoid the obvious.
Please pray for me, guys. I don’t go back for follow up for another six days. Getting through the wait is beyond rough.