Thursday, March 20, 2008
My Scientific Conclusions
Science is rational. Experiments are performed to gather numerical data from which relationships are derived, and conclusions are made. As my study shows above, beta patterns that follow the same past data equal predictable outcomes. My third beta went up from 68 to 145. Just like my IVF#1 ectopic went up on the third beta. So yes, it doubled, but if you connect the dots, all you get is a broken heart.
So why do I still read through beta bulletin boards trying to find stories of success with low rising betas? What is it about humans that either need to torture ourselves or are innately hopeful? I've read about a zillion online posts with the same desperate plea of finding hope in low rising betas. I tend now to just skip to the last post where I inevitably find the "So sorry" because the person's story always ends in ectopic or miscarriage. Sure, there were a handful with the success stories of a vanishing twin or just slow rise that made it to a heartbeat, but those posts also tend to stop before really knowing if they made it to a live baby.
Right now, miracles and faith don't seem to work on my graph. I tried to fit them in but they certainly aren't data points, they are generally off the charts. So I find myself trying to stay one step ahead of this doomed outcome. I am constantly trying to reconfirm I am right all the time that this is going to end badly because it gives me some satisfaction. It makes me feel like I am in control and that I've won. Yes, it's like some arm wrestle between all this bad evidence against that sliver of unknown we call the future. I can somehow take all my bad evidence and slam the arm down saying that you can't fool me. I can predict the future and I can be ready for the news so you can't hurt me.
This is opposite to my husbands outlook, who's graph would be quite different. He would have my beta points plotted and then say, "Waiting for next step." So simple, so clean, no mess, just very open to what the future brings. I am amazed by that. I can only be this Tasmanian devil of cynicism whirling around saying, "I told you so, I told you so. I knew this would never work." So what is the next step you ask? Monday we meet with our RE and I assume he'll do another beta and ultrasound. It's probably too early to see anything, so we probably won't see anything. Then he'll say come back in a couple days and we'll look again. Then we'll do another ultrasound because my betas will continue to rise and we will see nothing. Then I will have to make the hard choice of getting surgery and losing a tube or going through the hell of the methotrexate shot and wait endlessly for beta to get to zero, all the while worrying I might rupture. Did you notice? I'm doing it again. I am finding satisfaction in predicting the future because I can say, "I was right."
So with all this confirmation of being "right," I still find myself hoping I am wrong. How much do I want to write "SUCKER" on my forehead whenever this feeling comes to me?! It's amazing what the heart keeps trying to do to make the story end happily, even an already broken heart.
P.S. I want to send out my most sincere thank you to all of your outpouring of support and sympathy. I know all of you really understand what this disappointment means and how hard it is to get through without some kind words. I also realized that writing is truly a good friend to me and that if I abandon that, I will be left with no spirit. It's hard enough to try to walk away from trying to have your own biological baby, that I think I must keep writing.