We had a big appointment with our RE today – our very last one! All five of us are officially RE graduates. We have been released and have our first appointments set up with my regular OB/GYN and with the Maternal Fetal Medicine group (high-risk specialists).
It’s pretty crazy to think we won’t be going back there (except for personal visits). I can’t even count how many times I’ve been in for bloodwork, ultrasounds and consultations or how many times I’ve spoken on the phone with the nurses. I’ll probably remember my chart number for a long time – Lord knows I’ll remember the whole experience for the rest of my life.
A cool and unexpected part of being released was a small goodie bag with a congratulations card and a “Made in Charlotte” onesie. We have to head out to the boutique who supplies them to pick up two more (and were warned that they’ll laugh at us), so I’ll save that pic for when all three are together. The onesie is SUPER cute.
All three babies looked great at today’s visit. PB&J are all moving around in there and measuring right on time or a little ahead. Baby A (measuring 9 weeks, 5 days) waved its hand at us; Baby B (curled up and measuring smaller because of that at 9w1d) kicked its foot; and Baby C (9w4d) gave us a little full-body shimmy. All three have good, healthy heartrates measuring near 180 bpm.
To help figure out what you’re looking at, Baby A’s head is down and to the right with a hand and foot (or feet) sticking out toward the left; Baby B’s head is up and to the right and its feet are the bright spots at the bottom left of the sac; and Baby C’s head is down and to the left – you can’t see hands or feet in the photo.
Also? The view of Baby C shows all three babies in one shot. It isn’t exactly the best view of the three together, but there they are!
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Since my last update, I’ve jumped my first hurdle of this pregnancy (you know, aside from the bleeding and making it to 9 weeks business).
I caught a cold. That turned into a sinus infection. That’s trying to settle into my lungs.
Once upon a last Wednesday, my nose started feeling stuff. Maybe it’s pregnancy rhinitis, I thought. Apparently your nose can be pregnant, too. By Thursday, the crappy feeling made it clear a cold was moving in. Thursday night, I did something I swore I’d never EVER do – for the sake of keeping PB&J med free.
I used a Neti Pot:
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I’ve spent every summer of my life being a little fishy in pools and lakes and HATE HATE HATE getting water up my nose.
HATE.
But I wanted to get rid of the cold before I needed meds to kick its ass. So many swear by this little torture device, so I tried it (but not after Rob did first to prove to me it wouldn’t kill me).
I can’t lie – it’s unpleasant. It feels like you’re pouring water up your nose (which you are), and it makes my eyes water. But it also made it so much easier to blow my nose during those times when that holyshitmyheadwillexplode feeling sets in and no amount of blowing helps.
Friday was spent in comfy clothes (my WWF T-shirt and undies), surrounded by tissues, so instead of showing you that hotness, I’ll show off a gift I haven’t bragged about yet.
My good friend Katherine stitched these long-sleeve onesies for PB&J:
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I felt like such poo on Friday and Saturday morning that I almost skipped out on my months-long planned day trip to Raleigh. I decided to go since it’d be a whole lot of sitting around – not much different from what I’d do at home, except the company was not to be missed:
L-R: Caroline, Katherine, Sarah, Me, Emilee, Sara, Beth and Beth Anne (Kathleen is missing!)
(190/365 – thanks for the photo, Katherine!)
Once I got home Sunday, I spent the day laying around the house doing a lot of coughing, sneezing, blowing and sleeping. Great fun, let me tell you. In lieu of a pic of that hotness, enjoy a pic of another gift for PB&J – this time from my good friend Sara – Sophie the giraffe x3!
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Last but not least, a photo from today. I actually ended up seeing my family practitioner today for a Z-pack to zap the shit out of what did turn into a stupid sinus infection. The bright spot in my day has been gazing at the GORGEOUS bracelet my dear friend Emilee gave me:
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The middle charm is a bird’s nest with three tiny eggs, and the outer charms say hope and faith on one side and love and courage on the other. Could a better charm bracelet represent my life right now? I THINK NOT.
So there you have it! These pics might not be the best representation of the days they’re for, but I think you should all consider yourselves lucky I didn’t take photos of all my old tissues. I think I killed a tree this weekend alone. But pip pip! I’m on my way to recovery.
One of the most common questions I’ve heard/read lately is some variation of, “How did you end up with triplets?”
It’s no secret that Rob and I have been undergoing fertility treatments with a reproductive endocrinologist. For the Cliff’s Notes, my medical/protocol history is in the About section.
I don’t ovulate on my own, so I was taking fertility drugs to stimulate follicle growth.
What’s a follicle?
Ovaries house eggs. Before ovulation occurs, a follicle grows from the ovary and contains an egg. When the egg reaches a mature stage, the follicle bursts and releases the egg – ovulation.
The team of doctors I see closely monitored me to insure I didn’t overproduce follicles – aka how Jon & Kate became plus 8 and how Octomom got her tentacles.
On cycle day 10 of the triplets’ cycle, my right ovary was growing two follicles, and my left – which had never produced a mature follicle – was growing one. When I returned for monitoring on cycle day 12, only the two on my right ovary measured to maturity. The one on my left was too small.
So we expected two eggs to release, giving us the possibility of twins.
When my doctor discovered Baby C during the first ultrasound, Rob and I weren’t the only ones who were shocked. She checked back over my chart to see how many follicles they had me marked for, and, sure enough, the chart said two. After some poking around, she found what she was pretty sure was an ovulation cyst (once the follicle bursts, a cyst is left behind – it eventually shrinks).
Lefty snuck one in on us. My left ovary has always been hard to find – I don’t know if it’s just positioned weird or what – but she said that’s why they might have missed that follicle.
Of course, there’s always the slim chance that one egg split, but that isn’t something we’ll know for some time (if ever)*.
So, there you go. That’s how we (supposedly) ended up with triplets. I have a sneaky ninja ovary and a sneaky ninja baby.
* Edited to add: Since all three babies are in separate gestational sacs, the only way for us to know if two are identical is by DNA testing once they’re born. It’s a slim chance, but it’s possible. After all, I was only supposed to ovulate two eggs and might have popped out three.
It isn’t a done deal yet, but my parents signed a purchase agreement on a BRAND NEW house in our neighborhood. The purchase is contingent on the sale of their home in NE Ohio, on which they’re close to inking a deal.
Should everything go as planned, they’ll live 1/3 mile away from us – definitely close enough to mosey over for a visit with the stroller(s).
I’m an only child, so I hold the real estate gold on the grandkids market. Pretty sweet, right? It’ll be awesome to have them around to help, but more than that, it’ll be awesome to live close to my parents again. It’s been a long six years of not-enough visits, and I miss them!
I am a serious rollercoaster enthusiast, but I had already signed off on the idea of riding any coasters this summer thanks to finally being pregnant. One summer without my bunny hops and G forces isn’t bad.
Except I didn’t account for emotional rollercoasters courtesy of the little fetuses (no longer embryos!) I’d be carrying.
Because seriously? Whoa. This last week has been the biggest rollercoaster of my life. Cedar Point should hire my brain. No, really. Cedar Point? Let’s talk.
The long story of this week’s lows can be found here.
The short story? We had three good embryos and three heartbeats. A week later, I started bleeding. An ultrasound the next morning showed two good embryos and one that was a week behind with no heartbeat. The doctor said that baby had expired.
Fast forward to Sunday night (July 4). I had another bleeding scare and went into the doctor the next morning (yesterday). The on-call doctor wanted to check me out even though I had an ultrasound scheduled with my doctor for today.
For those who like the gory details, Sunday night’s bleeding wasn’t nearly as bad as last Tuesday night’s. It only lasted 10 minutes and wasn’t as heavy. I didn’t have any cramping, but the doctor still wanted to see me just in case. Blood can be nothing, but in my experience, it never had been anything but bad news.
So in we went.
The nurse set up the ultrasound machine to record three babies, and when I asked about it, she said the doctor was checking to see if the bleeding I had Sunday night was due to the expired baby passing through my system.
OK. That makes sense.
The doctor came in and found the two babies we were expecting right away. Then he said, “Yep, you’ve still got triplets.”
Once again, the third baby shocked the hell out of me. Instead of saying, “NO.” this time, I said, “WHAT?”
He told us to watch the baby he had labeled as “A” (their labels are all different now thanks to multiple doctors and multiple ultrasounds), a view from which we could see the sac of the baby currently labeled “B” and that when he moved the wand a tad, the third baby would pop into view.
Hello again, Baby C.
All three have fabulous heartrates (I can’t remember specifics from yesterday or today because, um, MY BRAIN WASN’T REALLY WORKING), all above 170, and all are measuring ahead of my LMP, ranging from 8 weeks, 3 days to 8 weeks, 6 days.
Rob made me keep my lips zipped yesterday until we met with our own doctor today and had another ultrasound. Let’s just say he was demanding a recount. We all know the scandal Hanging Chads can create. Plus, can this story BE any crazier?*
So. We went in again today and saw our own doctor, who also found three healthy babies with three healthy measurements and three healthy heartbeats.
The big question, “Quadruplets?” No one has said anything about quadruplets and maybe losing one with a hiding babe in the wings. Right now, our doctor’s best guess is that last week’s Baby C, the one declared gone, had itself in a funky position that made it measure a little off with no heartbeat easily detected.
Her other theory is that there may have been a development issue, but for Ninja Baby (since the labels are different) to be behind a week last week and then make up two weeks of development in less than one week’s time – well, that’s a little hard for me to believe. Much more difficult than believing we have a big, fat faker on our hands.
The biggest problem with their different labels right now? We don’t know for sure who to point fingers at and tease for being mean and sneaky once the babies are on the outside.
Our doctor is still erring on the side of caution and going with the “triplets today, who knows tomorrow” theory, which, from where we stand, is pretty freaking accurate.
Internet, may I present, on their comeback tour, PB&J:
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p.s. The bleeding I’ve had is being explained as being caused by the fact that I have three babies digging in and am building three placentas. Apparently I should expect to see it off and on throughout the pregnancy.
*”Friends” reference for my friends who insist we name one of the babies Chandler.
