The Ritual and the Emergency Room visit

The Ritual

Friday night I lit the Shabbat candles and said the prayers that thousands of women have said before me. Mr. Jem and I broke the bread and drank together as part of a ritual to recognize the sorrow of losing our embies and asking G-d for hope and for G-d's help when we are feeling so sad, so powerless.

We read how the tribes of Israel were founded not just by patriarchs like Moses and Abraham, but by women like Hannah who faced infertility and who prayed and asked for G-d's help. It brought me comfort to know that I am not alone. Not only do I have all you wonderful women and men on the interweb, but even the Torah/Bible has stories like ours, stories of barren women who cried out in the pain of their loss, who prayed and hoped (and finally got what they wanted - a baby). I'm still waiting for my own happy ending.

The Emergency Room Visit
I'm not yet feeling 100% hopeful, mostly due to this ectopic pregnancy that landed me in the Emergency Room Saturday night. Let me explain.

Saturday I ate normally but was experiencing some pain in my abdomen and an urgent trip to the bathroom in the morning. I felt better in the afternoon and Mr. Jem and I went with a friend on a walk at 4:00 p.m. Half-way (1 hour) through the walk (an easy hike) I started feeling very light headed and dizzy, so much so I had to stop and sit down more than once. I didn't feel hungry, but thought it might help to eat. Food usually makes me feel better.

We went to my favorite Pizzeria. I always order a bowl of soup because the pies take a while to come. It was minestrone and I didn't eat the beans, as I read that eating gassy food was not a good idea on Metho.trexate. Just before the pizza arrived my abdominal pain got really bad. Mr. Jem ran next door and bought me Ginger ale. The pain got so bad that I had to tell Mr. Jem and my friend R that I needed to go home. The pizza arrived, MR Jem and R ate a piece each while we paid the bill and we left. This was around 7:00 p.m. I called the clinic and was connected to the on-call doctor, Dr. Alternative. She asked me a bunch of questions (how sever was the pain, etc.) and said she wanted me to go to the Emergency Room.

At the ER they saw me pretty quickly. I explained what was going on (ectopic pregnancy, Metho.trexate on Wed, being monitored by my RE) to the Intake Nurse, the Doctor, the ER nurse and the nice sonographer. Was only mildly annoyed by the questions like, "When was the date of your last period?" and "When are you due?"

My answers: "Period? Irrelevant. I did IVF and we transferred three embryos on January 7." "Due date? I wish. This is an ectopic pregnancies. My HCG was too low and hasn't been doubling."

Oh, the other thing is they kept referring to Dr. Alternative as "Your OB" - Again, "I wish I had an OB. She's an RE at my fertility clinic."

Sigh.

They drew more blood (and put in an IV line - oww!). Two hours later I learned that my HCG was 350 - double the number (150) from Wednesday, just as Dr. W had said might happen.

Everyone at the ER was great. I especially liked the nurse, a cutey named Max who had a wonderful bedside manner. Oh, except when he tried to insist on putting in a catheter for my u/s. I told him no, I would drink lots of water and it would work. Luckily my argument won. It took about an hour to see get an ultrasound. U/S - via belly and vag - came back clear. Big sigh of relief. No exploding ovaries or tubes. Yay!

The ER doctor called Dr. Alternative with the results. She wanted me to stay for observations, but he said it wasn't necessary. My pain was mostly in the upper abdomen and was most likely a reaction to Metho.trexate. That was my conclusion, too. I am glad that they took the situation seriously, tho. Better safe than sorry.

So they sent me and Mr. Jem home. We got home around 11 p.m. Luckily, Mr. Jem had eaten a couple of pieces of pizza when I was on the phone with Dr. Alternative at 7:00 so he didn't starve. No pizza for me! Wasn't even hungry.

Today (Sunday), I've been relaxing and not eating much since. Ginger ale is my friend. Got two calls from the clinic - one from Dr. Alternative and another from the nurse. I feel very well monitored and taken care of.

I have to go for another Beta tomorrow (Monday). Hopefully we'll see the numbers go down. G-d, I hate saying that. It's so wrong. So, so wrong on so many levels.

So, as a result. I didn't:
- Get a mani/pedi like I wanted to
- Go to a charity event tonight that was taking place on a huge docked ship. Mr. Jem didn't go either, which made me feel bad. I guess IF is f'ing up both our lives.

Yes, folks, I want my life back. I want to feel normal. I want to be able to exercise, to have a glass of wine, to drink coffee, to take rigorous hikes, to have sex again. For fun.

Okay, thanks for letting me vent.

Yet again, IF is an @sshole (this is how comedian Doug Benson closes his podcasts I Love Movies).