Beta Day + One Year

The most common kind of email I get from readers who stumble across this blog is from those who want to compare low beta experiences.  Sometimes they' re looking for a magic bullet--something they can do to make that hCG number magically climb into the normal range--but mostly they're just looking to commiserate.

Because low betas suck.  They suck so much.  It's an extra cruel twist of the infertile knife, which was plenty sharp to begin with.  Are you pregnant?  Are you not pregnant?  Were you briefly pregnant, but now not so much?  Were the embryos just rattling around in your teflon coated uterus for awhile before finding a place to implant and start producing that lovely, lovely hCG?

Who knows?  Nobody knows.  The nurse who calls to give you the results doesn't know.  Maybe she's new and has been told that anything over a 5 is positive so she says congratulations even though you know, courtesy of the internets, that it should be at least 50.  The doctor doesn't know, when you talk to him to double check what the nurse has said.  "Anything can happen," he says, but he's grim when he tells you to come back in two days for another blood test.

And what do you do during those two days?  What do you tell the people who knew that you were cycling when they ask, "Well....what's the news?"  How do you explain that you don't know?  That even though you've spent $12,000 at this leading edge clinic where even Celine Dion went to get pregnant, nobody can tell you anything for sure.  "You can't be a little pregnant," those friends might say, trying to make a joke, but of course you know that you can, that you are, and that maybe being a little pregnant is worse than not being pregnant at all.

But what makes it worse is the same thing that keeps you going.  You still have hope--hope that this will end differently than it did last time, that the next blood test will be better, that the first ultrasound will find something no one expected to see.

What you can't bring yourself to consider, though, is that a year from now, you'll still be brought to tears remembering that phone call from the clinic, but you won't have time to sit down and have a good cry because you're too busy taking care of this.

Comments

[Lisa]

Ah, that's the cutest 14.3 I've ever seen!

What a smile!

[Heather]

Great thoughts on the beta drama. It is something how time and experience changes things. My own very low beta score boy is presently trying to have a conversation with an animal on his wall. I remember those phone calls, the nurses, the doctors too. I remember being whacked on the fertility drugs during Christmas 2004. Now I am whacky over his reindeer socks. Thanks for sharing.

[elana]

i was reading your blog when your first beta came in and was so happy when it started doubling and when things started going well. and look at that gorgeous 14.3

[Bella]

Thanks for this post. Dare I hope to make a 7.3 onesie? I looked back at that post of a year ago. My comment? How ironic.

[michelle or mick]

hi there:
happy holidays!! wanted to write, well, b/c i stumbled across your blog about 1.5 years ago in the deepest moments of despair during my IVF: I and II chemical pregnancy nightmares, and it made me feel better. and now i'm six months from IVF: III!! but wanted to say, it's so true how you will be forever changed by the experience, even once you have a child. i think back on what i went through sometimes and i can't honestly believe i did it. i just think, wow, what would i have done if that call during my final IVF said the numbers dropped/didn't double AGAIN? and then i stop b/c why, really, dwell on it when it turned out o.k. i guess my point is that one thing the whole experience did for me was teach me a whole lot about myself, hope, handling fear and disappointment and making sense of life on a larger scale than just getting through the week. and that these feelings, like infertility itself, are hard to articulate to fertiles who can't really be expected to relate. anyway, so happy for you (and me!).

[daysgoby]

He's gorgeous!! What a lovely Christmas elf.

[Julie]

I. Am. WEEPING.

What a beautiful ending your boy is to a long and scary story.

[Misha]

Damn that boy is cute!!

[Dana]

that's incredible -

when I think of last Christmas, the constant mc fear and drama, and where we've been since - unreal simply unreal.

enjoy your gorgeous child!

[Sherry]

That's one damn, cute kid.

Such a great post.

[Monica]

Beautiful post. Beautiful baby. So happy for you.

[Kristine]

Oh he is so cute!!
Great post too.

[Milenka]

He is absolutely gorgeous.

[Meg]

You brought me to tears...what a handsome son you have. COngratulations on a happy ending.

[Dee]

That's one mighty fine 14.3 you got there. How I remember your posts from this time last year and am still so v happy for you and the mister.

My own 10.2 progesterone baby is now six months old so I kind of know where you're coming from--though progesterone and betas are two completely different birds. Still, the worry was there but I know it pales in comparison.

Enjoy 14.3's first Chanukah/Christmas/Kwanzaa/Festivus holiday!

[Rebekah]

Oh, that is just too, too good! I'm still laughing. =) 14.3 has the sweetest smile I've ever seen!

May your heart and arms be overflowing with joy this holiday season!

[Sassy]

Happy holidays!

I hope the new year brings many blessings for you.

Love, Sassy.

[Trisha]

So your son was born perfect in spite of the Single Umbilical Artery diagnosis? I need to know this to tell my daughter who has this and is due 3/17/06

[Alexa]

Lovely. Who would have thought 14.3 would turn into the Boy? I am so glad it did.