After having Cohen and the small nightmare that was getting pregnant with him, we thought for sure that we were going to have the easiest time getting pregnant again. After all, we already had frozen embryos, all we had to do was take them out of the freezer and put them in the oven. 😏
So when Cohen was about 13 months old, we headed back to our beloved fertility doctor. When you are starting the transfer process, you call the office on the first day of your cycle, then they schedule you for a day three ultrasound. I went in for the ultrasound so the doctor could make sure my uterus hadn’t fallen out or disintegrated and was in good working order to house another baby for nine months. And ta-da! It looked great! Exceeeeeeept, what is that area? Huh, that doesn’t look normal. Is that scar tissue? Ground beef? What? So the scheduled me back for another day when they could do a sonohysterogram, in which they basically inflated my uterus with saline so they could get a better look around.
Turns out that I had all sorts of scar tissue in my uterus from when I delivered Cohen (which was kind of the worst experience ever for a lot of reasons). After delivering him, my placenta wouldn’t detach and the doctor had to go in with a medical grade ice cream scoop and get it out. It was not my favorite thing, as it made my blood pressure, which had previously been sky high thanks to preeclampsia, plummet and I blacked out and vomited. Add to that that Cohen had to go to the NICU due to some respiratory issues and they started to take him there before I had even held him, and it just wasn’t my favorite way to spend a morning. ANYWAY, that’s neither here nor there, but what resulted from that was a uterus that looked a little like hamburger a year later. Yay!
So at my first visit they gave me a schedule with all the dates and times to start each of my medications, as well as when I needed to come back for ultrasounds and bloodwork. But now with my new hamburger belly, plans needed to change. Instead of proceeding with the transfer, we scheduled a hysteroscopy.
It was an easy enough surgery, similar to a D&C, but it was difficult in that we weren’t expecting it and it pushed everything back. It was also a little tricky because we weren’t exactly telling anyone this time that we were trying to get pregnant again, so finding someone to watch our kids on a Friday afternoon for four hours for “no reason whatsoever” was funny. The procedure went as planned though and with my new and improved uterus, we were able to get started on our path to a baby again.
After a couple weeks they gave us a revised version of our calendar of scheduled drugs, injections and appointments. It put our transfer date into August, and everything went routinely up to the transfer. I went in for my Day 10 blood test to find out if I was pregnant and got those positive results on my Maren’s 4th birthday, which made me all sorts of weepy and grateful for the prospect of getting to grow and raise another little human. We had again put two embryos in, and at the first ultrasound were pleased to find that just one baby would be joining our family. (I always kind of wished that I was having multiples, just for the sake of not having to go through all this again, but when I think about the actual logistics of it, am glad that it has worked out to be just one baby at a time.)
This time they also didn’t give me any lifting restrictions like they had the last time I had done a transfer. This was good news, since Cohen still wasn’t walking and was the cutest, but heaviest, little bowling ball of a child to exist, but made me nervous that I wasn’t taking enough precautions. I mean, I was still doing progesterone shots in the booty every night and taking oral estrogen three times a day, but shouldn’t I do MORE things to keep this thing going?
And then, when I was about six weeks, I started having bleeding, similar to my pregnancy with Cohen. But this time it was a little heavier and lasted a little longer, and because I just didn’t want to take chances, I called the doctor. I went in for another ultrasound (my 450th by this time), and good news, the baby was still there, we could see a heartbeat (!!!) and it looked great. However, we found the reason for the bleeding. I had a subchorionic hemorrhage that was on the side of my uterus, and hopefully it wouldn’t cause any more problems. The chances were slim that it would do anything, and it would likely get better or go away on its own, but it was just one. more. thing. Why in the world could I not just have a normal pregnancy???
So we continued to be monitored by the doctor with ultrasounds until I was 10 weeks and at that point the hemorrhage had cleared up. And silver lining is that at the last ultrasound we could see the baby dancing and moving around like the craziest and cutest little gummy bear to ever exist. It was an amazing way to finish my treatment with the fertility doctor before graduating to my normal OB.
The rest of the pregnancy went off without a hitch. I was referred at one point to a pediatric cardiologist for a fetal echocardiogram, because apparently IVF babies are more likely to have congenital heart defects, though they aren’t sure why. But luckily our sweet baby had the most perfect little heart that we could have hoped to see and was as healthy as can be. And after a perfect delivery, we now have another little Lindblom. Jade, with the most adorable Lindblom dimples.
See? Getting pregnant is easy! As long as you don’t mind surgery, shots, ultrasounds and appointments, and as long as bleeding and thinking of the odds and risks don’t freak you out a bit. But all in all, totally worth it.