The longest wait is nearly over, it’s scan day tomorrow, a day I thought would never arrive. I haven’t blogged much as 1) I’ve not been sleeping properly and have been really tired, and 2) I can’t concentrate for very long, so stringing more than a few sentences together has been really challenging.
My clinic here in NZ have been really supportive, not only putting up with my panicked email (spotting) but also scheduling me in for weekly blood tests to reassure me that my HCG is steadily climbing. At our first (sneaky) beta my HCG comes in at 369…our favourite nurse bets me that we’re having twins (eek). By our official test date on Monday the 16th that number has jumped to 1733. We’re sitting in the 75th percentile, things are looking good.
Of course, having the mind of an infertile, I’m analysing every little twinge my body throws my way. Nervous that this could all go wrong, excited that it could all go right. In the week between the 1733 result and our next beta, I don’t notice too much out of the ordinary. I’m still cramping a bit, which I’ve done pretty much since transfer. They feel pretty much like period pains although there are some slightly lighter pangs, and almost a burn-like feeling sometimes as well. The only other thing of note this week is that my nipples are all tingly. Not really sore, they’re more itchy, like tiny ripples of the most minor electric shock you could imagine. I’m feeling tired too but I put that down to the lack of sleep as I wake up nearly every night worrying.
Finally the 23rd arrives and it’s time for our third blood test. I’m super nervous again but luckily don’t have to wait as long this time (I think our favourite nurse is being nice again and bumping us up the call schedule). The result comes in around lunchtime and again it’s looking good at 22279. I’ve printed a graph off the internet and plot my last three results along it. It follows the curve perfectly, still sitting in the 75th percentile. Phew. Only a week and a half til scan, I can do this!
Over the next week my symptoms come and go, making me feel either somewhat hopeful or plunging me into a fit of panic that everything’s over. I’m still cramping, still tired and not sleeping, my boobs still tingle but I also get a bit more general breast pain which I hope means they’re being to grow (I’m an A cup at best, say no more). I have a couple of days where I have bouts of nausea and dizziness but again these are easily written off to lack of sleep as I often feel this way when I’m not sleeping. It’s not until the end of the week that I begin to feel something might actually be happening inside me. By Thursday/Friday I’m starting to have food aversions and have almost totally lost my appetite. I have to basically force-feed myself as I know I need to eat.
For someone who eats pretty much anything and loves a good meal, it’s so weird to suddenly feel ill at the thought/sight/smell of food I would normally crave. It starts with water. I’m not a huge water drinker but I have the odd glass throughout the day and absolutely love green tea or a hot water with lemon. Overnight water becomes abhorrent. I can’t stand the sight of it, and the thought of drinking it in any form (hot, cold, tea, even juice!) disgusts me! I worry as to what I am going to drink to stay hydrated, until my husband suggests chocolate milk. I used to love chocolate milk as a child but as an adult rarely drink it, and hardly ever manage a full glass/bottle when I do indulge. Until now. It is now the best thing in the world and I consume 2 litres of chocolate milk (standard milk & Nesquik) over the following two days.
Next come veges. I am a vege nut and am constantly pestering my husband to include more vegetables in our dinners. Roast vege salad you say? Mmmmmm, yes please…..that is until now. It starts with just a few, no eggplant, no kumara (sweet potato) then wham! It’s nearly all veges I can’t stand. The smell of them cooking, bleurgh. I can’t even handle looking at them on the counter as I eat my breakfast and have to turn away. It’s so strange (even reading the word ‘veges’ as I read over this makes me want to puke).
Various other foods, in fact most other foods lose their appeal and I find myself living off chocolate milk and bread over the weekend. If anything I feel like sweet food which, although would have summed me up perfectly as a child, is almost the opposite of what I am normally like as an adult, preferring savoury food to anything sweet.
The next thing to increase is the nausea. It comes in waves, generally hitting worst when I first wake up and easing a little after I have breakfast. By Monday morning I have to get my husband to make me toast in bed before I get up as I feel so queasy. It comes and goes throughout the day, easing more if I nibble frequently and less if I stick to the main meals only. I feel constantly full despite not eating a huge amount and start to keep a bread roll or hot cross bun next to the bed at night to allow me to graze throughout the wee small hours. I find this helps a lot with the early-morning nausea. I haven’t vomited (yet) but have felt quite close to it at times.
All these symptoms are helping to keep the anxiety at bay a bit but nonetheless I have another beta on the Monday morning (2nd March). I miss the call from the clinic by a measly one ring and wait another hour and a half for them to call back. The tone in the nurse voice has me worried and it feels like a long wait (in reality it’s about 20 seconds) before telling me it’s all ok. I’m up to 81755, still sitting in the perfect curve on my graph.
Another couple of days of nausea and struggling to find things to eat and drink, and that brings us to now. Scan day tomorrow. In the last two weeks I’ve lost half a centimetre around my waist, my belly has remained the same size, and I’ve gained 2cm in the bust (woohoo!). In the five and a half weeks since we left for San Diego I’ve lost 4kgs (I suspect mostly muscle mass from giving up weights at the gym) but have gained back about half a kilo over the last few days. I’m absolutely terrified that it will all come to an end tomorrow, unbelievably nervous that we won’t see anything on the scan. I’m trying not to think about that too much though, the signs are looking good, I just hope they’re not largely in my head.