HUMPHREYBABY.COM

Sandra and I just got home from the doctor. The baby stopped growing pretty much right after our last appointment. There was no heartbeat.

I’m wrestling with feeling like I don’t have anything more to say and that I have everything to say.

The predominant thought in my mind is, weirdly enough, that I am eternally grateful for the time we did have with this baby, because it really was one of the happiest couple of months I’ve shared with Sandra. I wouldn’t trade a single moment of that joy to be rid of this pain. Not a single moment. It was worth it. Because Sandra and I learned just how much love we have to give to each other and to someone else.

We’re choosing to think of this as not so much a lost baby as postponement of our meeting this person. Our baby peeked his (yes, his) head in the door, said "Hi" and then let us know that even though it’s not quite ready to come through the door just yet, we’ll be meeting them soon enough. It was an introduction to the new member of our family, even though it isn’t time for them to stay.

We have to talk with Sandra’s GP because honestly, the doctor filling in for Dr. Hudson (the doctor we usually deal with at the fertility clinic) could use some serious lessons in bedside manor and some sensitivity training. We wasn’t willing to write Sandra a note for the time she’s going to need to take off this week. So yeah, we’re going to talk to her GP and get Sandra a work note and talk about some of the options that the doctor at the fertility clinic didn’t really seem interested in talking with us about.

I also want to thank everyone who’s commented and given their support through the course of this. I know we haven’t been the best at responding, but know that we do appreciate it and it means a lot. I’m disabling the comments on this post just because… I don’t know. I just need to let this be the end of it and then go and grieve with my wife.

I will hold the candle till it burns up my arm.
- Eddie Vedder

So far away and yet you feel so close
And I’m not gonna question any other way
There must be an open door
For you to come back
- Eddie Vedder

I’m trying so hard to keep it together. Sandra is usually the one who stays strong while I have my little annual mental breakdowns, but this time, understandably, Sandra’s the one who’s unable to cope and I’m the one trying to be as stable as I can be. She’s been off work for the last week or so. I missed a couple of days but I’m back. It’s really rough though. I go there and I stare at the wall. I’m pretty friggin useless there to tell you the truth. I do my best, but honestly, I don’t have a lot to offer.

But at least I’m there. I help customers when they need it, but that’s about it. Otherwise, I just… I can’t focus on anything enough to actually be productive. But whatever. I can’t really be upset about work. Honestly, my productivity at the video store is pretty far down on my list of concerns right now. I’m more concerned with making it through the day.

I know that next week I will more than likely be missing more work. Sandra’s under the impression that they get you in to surgery pretty quick when it’s determined that you need it. A D&C it’s called.

That’s pretty fucking scary.

I didn’t know that there could be hurt like this. I really didn’t.

I’m trying so hard to be positive. Sandra needs me to be, so I am. It just hits me in waves. Sometimes I can pretend everything’s alright and I smile and try and fool myself. It doesn’t really work, but I try as hard as I can.

Well, I guess it’s my turn to post the next sad update.

We had a repeat ultrasound yesterday. It was nerve wracking. Turns out that the baby did grow appropriately in the days between scans. The heartbeat was even slower though, it’s down to 60bpm. We have another scan on Monday. I’m expecting more of the same. I’m coming to terms with the reality that a D&C will be in our future. The doctor told us to prepare for either possibility but you could tell that he was concerned.

I’m a total wreck. Everything that I’ve read indicates that we have a 60-100% chance of “fetal demise.” I hate that phrase. You’d think that I would be clinging to the 40% chance but I’m not. Besides that one study, I have yet to find even a single successful case. Most of my symptoms are gone too. I haven’t been queasy in a week and am pretty much eating anything without any issues. I haven’t made it to work this week. Screw it. There’s no way I can be there when I’m crying more often than not. The nights are the hardest. I slept about 6 hours last night which was the most I’ve gotten in a week. This pain is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It’s all consuming and truth be told, I’m worried about me. Total wreck.

Sorry to those who have emailed me and not gotten a response. I’m isolating myself pretty hardcore. It is appreciated though.

I’m desperately trying to keep my brain in the right place. It’s hard. I’m trying to be logical about this. Logic is a weird thing. I’ve never been very good at rationalizing away fear and emotional pain, but I try. I try real hard.

Here’s what we know:

As of noon yesterday, the baby was alive. There’s no reason to believe it’s not alive right now.

Yesterday it’s heart was beating at about half of what it theoretically should be at given it’s age and it’s too small. This could be because it’s either winding up or winding down. Common sense would imply that this probably means that our dates are wrong. Unfortunately, we know that they’re not. We know this because we know when Sandra ovulated, we know when we had sex and we know when she tested negative and when she tested positive. It all matches up to the date we know that we conceived. The dates are right, the baby is small and has a slow heart.

That’s what we know.

The most important fact is that we know it was alive yesterday. That’s what I’m holding onto. As long as we’ve got that, we can’t give up. At least, I can’t. I won’t.

I try not to start any of our conversations with "If this ends badly" but it doesn’t really work that way. The reality is that this very likely will end badly. We know that Sandra is high risk for miscarriage. It’s part of dealing with Sandra’s condition. We see it constantly on her PCOS message board. The ratio of women who lose babies versus women who conceive and carry a pregnancy to term is pretty friggin grim. That’s just the way it is, and we’d be pretty goddamned lucky to make it all the way to the end the first time around. I never really wanted to consider that possibility before, but right now the reality of it is looming.

But it was alive yesterday afternoon. It was alive and there’s still hope.

The hardest part is the change in my perception of what we’re doing. For the last two and a half years or so that we’ve been actively trying to get pregnant, I’ve always felt that I want A baby. Just a baby. I wanted a child. It was always very vague and more of just an idea than anything specific. When I thought of Sandra pregnant, I thought of her with her belly poking out and wearing goofy pants with a big stretch band at the waist and craving weird food. That’s what my perception of "pregnant" was. Then, eventually, she’d squeeze out a kid and we’d have three people in our family rather than just the two of us.

Now that it’s actually here, I’ve come to realize that I think of pregnancy as something entirely different. It’s no longer just that Sandra’s belly is going to poke out and she’ll wear goofy pants. Suddenly it’s that she has a person inside her. A little tiny person that I desperately want to meet and teach and love and take care of. I don’t just want A baby anymore. I want THIS baby. It’s not abstract at all. This baby is us and it’s also itself. He or she (I think it’s He, but whatever) is in there desperately fighting to live. He’s a little rock star and he’s doing his best to hang on for the seven months or so he’s got left to bake in Sandra’s oven.

The thought of that little guy not making it crushes my heart. If this turns out bad (there it is again) I don’t know how I’m going to be able to take it. I really don’t. I know that we’ll survive it and that we’ll live to fight another day, but I never expected that I would feel such an intense personal loss. That sounds like lawyer lingo. What I mean to say is that I never expected the idea of it to break my heart this badly.

Without getting too metaphysical, my only solace in this is believing that if it does turn out bad, that it did so for a reason. For whatever reason, it wasn’t time yet. I have to believe as well that the person who is in Sandra’s womb right now will come to us eventually. Not just another baby, but the same baby in a different vessel. We have a child and it’s on it’s way, if not this time then next time. Or the next time. Or as many times as it takes. It’s a person and it has a name (though we haven’t figured that one out yet) and it IS coming.

I don’t want to come to terms with the idea of this ending badly. Of losing this baby. This person. I don’t want to because I don’t have to. Not yet. I won’t until I know that I have to. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

But here we are. I guess it’s an automatic reaction to understanding the reality of this. Even if I want to stay positive and try and will this right, my brain won’t let me be blind sided.

The worst thing is that I have to wonder if I’m feeling myself trying to come to terms with the idea of losing this baby because some part of me knows something that my conscious mind won’t admit.

But we’re not going to think about that. We’re going to keep ourselves intentionally ignorant because it’s the only way to stay sane. Never mind all of the information and studies and statistics. Never mind logic and odds. The baby was alive yesterday afternoon and god damn it, it’s alive right now and it’s going to fucking live and that’s all there is to it.

I’m just so fucking scared. So scared.

Currently Listening To: The Cure – Love Song

So Sandra and I went for our first ultra sound. When you’re higher risk like Sandra is, they like to start peeping in at the baby way earlier. So we’re at seven weeks right now.

That’s our little nug. He’s… well. He’s smaller than he should be. And his heart isn’t beating nearly as fast as it should. It’s almost as though Sandra’s not as far along as she thinks she is, but there’s pretty much no way that’s possible.

We’re pretty worried but trying to stay positive.

The doctor put Sandra on progesterone suppositories, which means she has to put pills up her hoo-ha. Just to be safe.

We were going to have another ultra-sound in two weeks, but the doctor asked us to come in next week.

The good news is that right now, it’s alive, and that’s the most important thing. As long as it’s alive, there’s hope.

It was a stressful week. I haven’t been able to even think about 
updating, I keep hoping that everything will just magically be ok.

It all started on Tuesday night, right after my Endo appointment. I 
hadn’t changed my insulin routine yet but woke up at midnight with a 
really serve low. Like 2.4 (40 for you Americans) low. I was sweating, 
shaking, dizzy and slurring my words. It took hours to bring it back 
up.

Then the spotting started. It’s been just brown so far but a fair 
bit. Enough to scare the crap out of us. The fertility clinic ordered 
2 beta tests, 48 hours apart to make sure it’s still rising. It is 
still rising but because we’re almost 7 weeks, it doesn’t double like 
it does in the beginning. We just have to wait and see at the 
ultrasound on Monday. Hopefully we’ll see a heart beat and can relax a 
bit.

So I had an appointment with my Endocrinologist today. He’s so old
school but is really knowledgeable and was happy for me when I told him
we were finally pregnant. He screwed around with my insulin a lot, 4
shots a day on a sliding scale now. He’s referring me to the GD clinic
at the hospital as he has given up his obstetrical patients. I should
be getting in to see them asap.
Oh, I also will be getting my thyroid checked every 4 weeks for the
next 4 months. He said his expects my thyroid meds to double.

I did a bad thing though. I went to the lab to get all of my bloodwork
done. They asked of I wanted to do my standing order progesterone
test. At first, I said no, I knew I would obsess over the number. But
yeah, I got it done. Hopefully it’ll be a nice strong number!
Ultrasound countdown is at 5 days.

Six weeks has always felt like a huge milestone to me. I guess it’s because the heart has started to beat. I’m so excited to have made it this far. I’m so so nervous about the ultrasound next week. We’re just so attached already, I can’t imagine how we would cope with bad news. I’m trying not to focus on the negatives but it’s a challenge.

I have definitely reached the so tired I just want to cry stage. I’ve barely left the couch today and I’m still exhausted. I feel so lazy, I’m lying down, watching tv and posting on my iTouch. I need a shower but that seems like way too much work. It’s going to be a long 6 weeks or so!

My current food obsession is oranges. I’ve had 2 today. Oh, and chocolate milk, lots of chocolate milk. In fact, I need another glass!

Oh, and hormonal? Yeah, just a bit. I was just bawling watching the finale of Amazing Race. I wish Joe had been home to see it, I’m sure it was pretty funny.

Like fuck, owww, why does my stomach hurt so much painful?!

I have pretty constant queasiness but this is something totally different. Take my breath away, double over and pray it stops soon painful. I’m over it! I felt a million times better after lying down for a few minutes but damn if my jeans weren’t digging in and killing me. They were my loose jeans too! Major bloat going on here.

Also, hi insomnia! I have a feeling we’re going to be very good friends for the next 8 months. My 3 sleeping med cocktail has been reduced to a few lowly Gravol. Gravol is like candy to me. I have taken 5 and been ok like 6 hours later to go to work. I’m hardcore like that.

Also, also, I’m anxiously counting down the days to the big ultrasound. I want to see ONE little beating heart. Just one. Hurry up, I want/need to see the heartbeat so I can stop worrying and what if-ing. 12 days to go!

I was cleaning the bathroom today and decided it warranted a picture. I have one left and then I’m done. Promise.

So I’ve felt absolutely nothing in the past 2 days. I feel great. Normal, maybe even a bit more energy than usual. No symptoms at all. I felt awful for a week and now I feel fine. It’s great to not be sick but it is nice to have that little bit of reassurance. I was thinking about it while I was soaking in the bath tonight. How great I feel. How my blood sugar is like outstanding, if not a little low. So Joe’s Mom called and I told her about it. She asked if I was still testing. I was like, no, I’m trying not to spend the money, it’s such a waste. Yeah, sure.

I’d say that’s pretty positive.

And yeah, I’m weak. I was at old Navy and Zellers is right there and…yeah, weak.

So my doctor didn’t do a beta, just the positive/negative bloodwork. It was positive and my progesterone was 31. I’m thrilled, that’s a really strong number.
Now we can relax for a while. No more appointments until the 22nd when I see my Endocrinologist for a referral to the diabetes clinic at the Hospital. 7 week ultrasound at the fertility clinic is on the 28th and my first appointment with the maternity docotor is on Feb 5th. Yay

So we had an appointment with my GP today. I absolutely love him. He’s been so good to me and really trusts that I do my research and know what’s up. His office staff are all really sweet and know what’s up with the whole TTC thing.

So we get there and the receptionist asks if I’ve taken a test yet. Ummm, yeah, about 12. She laughed and said that we should do another one for fun. Ok, I go pee in the cup and notice that it’s super diluted. I’ve been drinking 2 litres of water a day so yeah, diluted. I hear them doing the dip test and the words "light" and "faint." Greaaaaat. I see her come running out of the back and leave through the front door. Ok….turns out the test was expired and she was hoping that’s why it was such a faint result. She went to the office next door and got a test from them. Nope, still faint. Here’s a picture:

The Doctor comes in and says that he likes to see the line much darker. I explained about the obsessive water drinking and that I got a pretty dark test yesterday. I could tell that he was a bit worried that my HCG was on the way down and that I might be about to miscarry. He said he wanted bloodwork done asap and that we would hope for the best. He sent us on our way with an "80% Congratulations."

So we stood in the parking lot digesting the news. I cried a bit and Joe tried to be strong. I looked up the labs and realized the one near our house was open for another 45 minutes. I drove like a nut and got there just in time to get the bloodwork done. We should hopefully get the results tomorrow.

And yeah, I of course bought some more tests. I held it for 2 hours and it’s darker. Here, another picture.

I’m feeling better about it now. I’m only 4 weeks, 1 day and the doctor tests aren’t exactly the most sensitive. Fingers crossed!

I have been so, so, so cold these past few days. It’s very odd for me as I’m always hot. Thyroid messed up hot. I can’t get warm though. It’s like bones hurting, teeth chattering cold. On the good side though, my nausea has really let up. I’m sure it will be back in a few weeks but for now, it’s nice to be able to walk around without having to worry where the nearest garbage can is!

First doctor’s appointment is this afternoon. It’s just with my GP to get referrals to a maternity doctor and the GD clinic at the Hospital. I’m excited to see my doctor, he’s going to be really happy for us. I had an appointment with him last Monday where I was bitching about how I’d probably never get pregnant. What a difference a week makes!

Thanks, it’s super fun for nutritious food to make me want to puke and chocolate muffins to settle fabulously. My blood sugar is loving that.

I would like to give you serious props though for allowing me to drink so much water. We both know that Sandra + water is normally a horrible thing but yay for getting in 2L a day.

Love,
Me

This is apparently what our baby looks like right now. At three weeks.

Like some kind of dinosaur baby or a plankton or something.

Note to self: Be careful when doing google image searches of "fetus." The results tend to be incredibly unpleasant and depressing. Thank you anti-abortion web sites for that little unhappy part of my day.

The following names have been suggested and vetoed.

Name – (Sandra’s reason for veto)

Boys:
Randall Flagg Humphrey – (I am not having a kid named Randy)
Bocephus Humphrey – (No. Just no)
Randal Pattrick McMurphy Humphrey – (see Randall Flagg)
Cthulhu Humphrey – (no Lovecraftian dark gods, okay?)
Magnum Humphrey – (shut up)
Colt 45 Humphrey – (what, are we just listing guns now?)
Winchester Humphrey – (That’s enough of that)
Freddy Krueger Humphrey – (No)
Scrotor The Unworthy – (That’s it. I’m leaving you)

Girls
Alice Humphrey – (Alice? What, am I giving birth to an eighty year old woman?!)
Clarice Humphrey – (Claire? Claire’s a fat girls name)

Currently Listening: Carly Simon – Anticipation

Alright, so this is it. The first one. The big B. The baby. The little tiny person growing inside my bride.

It’s rad.

Check it:

Like, seriously. Pregnant. With child. That makes me a babydaddy. It’s blowing my mind.

It’s weird because like… okay, when Playstation 2 came out I was kind of indifferent. It was so expensive and exotic and amazing that I knew that it would be a long time, if ever, that I would have one of my very own. Then, as time went on and (and I started playing my friend’s PS2) I started jonesing REALLY hard for one. Like, it was the only thing I wanted in the whole world. I talked about it constantly and lamented about how amazing it would be to have such an amazing piece of gaming equipment.

Then the day came that I got one and my brain exploded and I almost cried and I was so very very happy.

This is nothing like that.

When I found out that Sandra was pregnant and she was crying and shaking and holding the tests with the faint little up and down line that meant YES, I was just stunned. I was happy, but more than that I was stunned and didn’t know what to think. A million different thoughts whirred around my brain and all I could think to do was hold Sandra and try and keep my brain and my heart inside my body.

Getting the PS2 was nothing compared to this. That experience was really just a repeat of experiences I’d had previously (getting an Atari 2600 in the mid eighties, getting a 12 string guitar) and honestly, while it was great, it wasn’t really a new feeling.

Finding out that I’m going to be someone’s dad is completely unique and on another level. It was a new feeling and I didn’t (still don’t) know what to do with it. It’s a good feeling, yes, a very good feeling… but it’s also extremely confusing and abstract. There’s nothing I can compare it to.

I will say that I’m actually glad it’s going to take nine months (eight months and one week actually) for this baby to finish cooking. We’ve got a LOT of shit to figure out before he (or, I guess, possibly, she) pops out of Sandra’s lady hole and starts breathing and learning and figuring out that his daddy is kind of a fucktard.

Before Sandra and I started seriously talking about kids (back when we were using CONDOMS for Christ’s sake, what a joke THAT was!) I always assumed that if I ever had a kid it would probably be some sort of accident that would be the source of much drama and heartache and mixed emotions. Before Sandra and I got together, I assumed I’d end up getting some chick pregnant when I was 23 or something (because, you know, I’m such a friggin player. That’s me) and thrust into fatherhood way before I was ready.

Then I got married and I assumed that Sandra would miss a pill or a rubber would break or something.

But this… we’ve been actually TRYING to get pregnant. For years now. There have been complications. Her insides were a rocky place where my seed could find no purchase. Or that’s what we thought.

Yesterday I found out that things are apparently not nearly as grim as we thought. After various fertility drugs and variations on timing and whatnot, we found that magic combination of drugs, timing and apparently my extremely power man juice that did the trick.

Weirdly enough, it seems like we both kind of knew before she tested. For a couple days at least. Maybe even a week. Our conversations started gearing towards planning for actually HAVING a kid. We got into an argument on New Years eve about whether or not we should use pictures of our kid on our Christmas cards next year (she wants to, I’m strongly against it) as though we already knew something big was on the horizon. We had no reason to think anything had changed, but I think we both knew. On some level we knew.

That day (yesterday) Sandra got a call from her doctor’s office. She’d gone in a couple days earlier and taken a blood test to see if she even ovulated this month. We’re not even sure if she’s EVER ovulated. We knew she might have, at some point, but we didn’t know for sure and the ultrasounds and previous blood tests have indicated that she hasn’t.

I was standing next to Sandra as she talked to the doctor’s receptionist. She opened up notepad and started furiously typing, her hands shaking as she processed what she was being told. She typed "Ovulated! 21." She HAD ovulated a few weeks earlier. Her progesterone was supposed to be above 15 to indicate ovulation (on a medicated cycle) and hers was 21. She’d ovulated hard. She got off the phone and started crying and told me the news.

That was enough for me. I was just happy that she’d actually ovulated and that meant that things were better than we thought.

I had to work a closing shift that night (5-12am) so I needed a nap before work. She came in and we talked for a bit before I went to sleep. She said she wanted to get a pregnancy test. Our timing wasn’t exactly right to correspond with her ovulation, but she wanted to test anyway, just to ease her mind. She asked what I thought. I said that she should wait, because even if she was, the chances of the test showing a positive were less this early. I said she should give it a few more days. She said that she wanted to test anyway, just in case. Because she’s on a few different medications, and if she IS pregnant, she would need to talk to her doctor as soon as possible about what she can and can’t take. That made sense, so she took off to the drug store and I fell asleep.

A half hour or so later I woke up because Sandra was standing over the bed with the two positive tests and crying and she said "Congratulations, daddy!"

And that pretty much brings us to the now. We’re processing and trying to get our minds around it. I have a feeling that we’re never REALLY going to completely process it. It’ll be one of those things where it doesn’t seem real and it keeps not seeming real until we’re right down to the wire, if ever really.

I don’t know though. I’m totally freaked out and my mind is spinning. It’s a good thing, that’s for sure, but it’s overwhelming.

Anyway, that’s all I’ve got for now.

Currently Listening: Me First And The Gimme Gimmes – Danny’s Song