Some time ago, my 2 year old daughter threw an unexpected temper tantrum over dinner at Disneyland. This may not sound like an unexpected thing to you, after all this is a a 2 year old we are talking about, a 2 year old being forced to interact with actual food at the happiest, tantrum capital on Earth. So you're right, the fit itself was absolutely to be expected, it was the impact it had and what it taught me that was so surprising.
It all started with a carrot. Snow Pea was dining on peas and baby carrots quite happily during dinner, carefully chewing each bite in hopes of scoring dessert at the end of her meal. Then, just as she was opening her mouth and about to tip the last carrot in, it fell to floor. She lost it. Completely melted down. "My carrot! I need my carrot!" Doing what any well-meaning but absent minded parent would do, I explained that the carrot was gone but it would be ok. Look! You can have dessert now! You didn't finish the last carrot but you get chocolate pie! But she didn't want chocolate pie. She only wanted that carrot. That last bite she was so ready for, but that had been taken away by an unfortunate combination of gravity and unrefined motor skills, was all that mattered. It was the first time I saw my daughter truly sob. Big, fat tears rolled down her face as she bawled, "my carrot! my carrot!"
I did not know what to do. I kept trying to comfort her, calm her down, but nothing helped. Until finally, I picked up the poor, lost carrot and let her hold it in her hand. I explained that she couldn't eat it and she just looked at it, took a big sigh and then put it on her plate. She stopped crying and asked quietly for a bite of the pie. And then I realized, it wasn't the carrot itself she needed, it was closure! My 2 year old reminded me, in what may seem like the silliest way, just how crucial of a need that is to all of us when our heart is set on something that we no longer get to have.
Since our third failed FET at the end of last year, I have struggled with my emotions and the unrest at not being able to decide what our next move will be. Chad and I had originally agreed that if December failed, that we would be done with trying and just live as a family of 3. But when I met with my RE we discovered that I had a uterine polyp that was a very likely culprit for the previous failures. After that I was very quickly scheduled for surgery to remove it and have my also potentially damaging tubes removed.
That was in January and my brain has been a yo-yo ever since. To cycle again or not? To be focus solely on my one, wonderful child or to do this just one more time? That last failure left me feeling so broken, so defeated, I really haven't wanted to go through it again. But then there was the surgery and with it that possibility that my body actually is capable of doing this again. I have gone back and forth a million times. More than anything, I want to be done with this phase of my life. I want to be out of the limbo that infertility creates and move forward to something else, whether that is with one child in my arms or two. But what I learned from the carrot is that I need closure to do that. And I know deep down that with the surgery success and embryos still in the freezer, that closure will never come unless I take the plunge again. I will always wonder "what if?" and I can't truly move forward with that in my head & heart. I have no doubt that I will be crushed if this still doesn't work. I will cry, I will hurt, I will mourn but I will find peace knowing that I can allow myself to let go. I can pick up that carrot that is my dysfunctional body, heave a big sigh and grab a bite of chocolate pie instead.
I can't even begin to tell you how many blog posts I have written in my head the past 6 weeks but never gotten around to actually writing. The biggest reason of which is that I have been too afraid. We have been so secretive about our FETs this past year, and I have opened this blog up to so many people in my life- I guess I just wasn't ready to share yet. But now it's becoming too much and I am finding myself feeling more lost than I did the first time around, and I realize how desperately I need to stop trying to keep it all in.
Infertility 2.0 was supposed to be easier, less painful and traumatic somehow. We have already endured the years of trying on our own, the tedium of temping, the anxiety of testing & diagnosis, the marathon of IVF, the hell of miscarriage and finally the joy of successful FET. We knew what to expect. We knew the problems and how to treat them. There was no reason this shouldn't work. No reason this time shouldn't have been smoother, simpler than than the first. Oh how very wrong we were.
In 2013, we had 3 failed FET cycles. With the 5 embryos lost to these failures added to the 3 that didn't make it the first time around, that puts the viability of my embryos so far at 1 in 9- far below the 1 in 3 my RE predicted based on my age, hormone levels and our combined egg/sperm quality. 5 transfers, 9 embryos, one child- I am beating the odds in a terrible way. And I was not at all prepared for this or for how it would affect me.
When we started infertility treatment 2.0 this past summer, I not only felt fairly confident we would have an easier time achieving success, but that if for some reason we didn't I would be more ok with everything than I was the first time. I think I even said so on my blog. After all, I wasn't a mom last time and now I am. Who cares if I have one baby or two? I'm a mom when I wasn't before and the headcount of my household doesn't change that fact. Which is still true, of course. In so many ways it is not as painful, it doesn't cut the same way the fight for motherhood did. But it still hurts and cuts in new ways I never saw coming.
My body has now failed me more than it had in 2010 when we were going through IVF/FET. Then, I just couldn't get pregnant without help but after the hormones and the procedures, my body did a pretty good job of behaving as it should. I felt damaged for sure, but I didn't feel quite as broken as I do now. Today, I met with my RE and discussed the possibility that fluid in my fallopian tubes may be creating a toxic womb environment and destroying what would otherwise be healthy, viable embryos. The thought that my own body is responsible for literally killing my embryos is soul crushing.
How do I maintain a healthy self-esteem when my own body is so broken and dysfunctional? How do I stave off the despair, self-blame and depression that comes from infertility when I think about my own body actually poisoning my attempts to further build my family? How do I control my anger when I realize that we have spent thousands of dollars, I have forced myself through hundreds of injections, and we have tolerated months of anxiety, false hopes and heartbreak all with absolutely nothing to show for it? How do I hold back the flood of tears when my daughter comes running into the room to show me that she has been practicing her sign language so she can teach it to the baby brother or sister she keeps begging me for? How do I manage the guilt and shame at letting all of this hurt so much when I know I am lucky to have such an amazing child, even if she is my only one? Infertility as once again made me feel like a failure, this time as a woman, a wife, an advocate and a mother. I just wasn't prepared for all the new ways my heart would break when we set back out on this road.
Writing and blogging really is such a cathartic way to deal with everything that happens in life, and I don't know why I don't make more time to do it. Mostly, just the regular excuses about being busy and distracted I guess. I mean, yeah I actually am busy and I do get distracted but I should make more quality time for myself. Especially now.
After September's chemical pregnancy, I realized how very much I want to have another child so Chad and I plunged straight into another cycle. I was already in the habit of nightly injections, so might as well keep them going. And yeah that cycle ended badly, but this next one was sure to work, right? I won't keep you in suspense, the answer is no. Today was beta and my official BFN.
Not that it was a shock. I poas'd earlier this weekend knowing Chad was leaving town for work today, and neither of us wanted to be apart immediately after getting the results, so we decided it was better to find out sooner rather than later. Both our hopes were much higher than either us had confessed though, so seeing that single, lonely line Saturday afternoon was crushing to say the least. Still, I don't regret it. Testing early didn't change the outcome and it gave us both time together to process. What knowing didn't change is that it still hurt like hell hearing the nurse say the word "negative" on the phone this morning. I knew that's what she would say. I was fully prepared for it. So why did it still sting? Why does infertility continue to find new ways to make me hurt?
When I became a mom after so much pain and heartbreak, I knew that trying again one day would be hard, but I also knew it would never hurt that same way again. It would never be as raw and intense as the pain of having empty arms. When we finally started our FETs for baby #2, I was confident that I knew what to expect, that I wouldn't be surprised by pain like I had been in the past. But here I am shocked by all of the unexpected ways infertility wracked my emotions yet again. I was still right that it isn't as extreme of a pain as I endured before motherhood, but it is still pain nonetheless, and it still tears at all of my old wounds even as it rips open new ones.
This is my first IVF/FET cycle in which no implantation at all took place. Granted I've only had one child, but I have had 3 "pregnancies". I haven't stared down a straightforward BFN, with no confusing betas or possible positives since my clomid days 4 years ago. And while this complete failure is making me question whether I could have done anything different to get a better outcome, it has also verified a long held suspicion that even though a BFN hurts like hell, it isn't as unbearable as thinking I might actually be getting what I want and having it cruelly ripped away from me. So I guess I have that as a silver lining this cycle? Yeah I am not pregnant, but at least I never was? Honestly, when you are facing this heartbreak, you have to take what you can get when it comes to finding the good in it. And as pessimistic as I sound there is some good. Or at least some hope, anyway. We are very lucky in that we still have frozen embryos left so we can keep trying without having to worry about the time and expense of a fresh IVF cycle. Although, after two failed cycles, we seem to be investing quite a bit of time and money after all.
But back to the hope. As negative and angry as I feel at the moment, I know hope is still there. It isn't over and there is still a good chance that this will work in the end. Although, if I am being honest, I am not really certain of my belief that it will work, and in fact, I am kind of terrified that it won't. I am already crushed that my so many of my family dreams have had to be re-written or let go of altogether, I am just not ready to let go of this one yet. So for now, I am not going to. Thanks to travel and holiday schedules we won't be able to transfer again until next year, which kills me, but hopefully I can use this time off to relax and recharge before subjecting myself to hundreds more needles. I can only hope that the new year brings realized dreams along with it.
I have started and left unfinished about a dozen different blog posts in the past month. I have simultaneously had so much on mind to work out and been working so hard to not think about what was coming, that I could never find the resolve to finish anything I started. Besides, once I write something down and hit "publish", its out there in the world and that makes it more real and infinitely more scary.
But now that the deed is officially done, I think it's time to break out of my hidey hole. I am currently, and for the third time in my life, officially PUPO (pregnant until proven otherwise). And I am terrified more than I probably have a right to be. Earlier today, I met with my embryologist and my amazing RE to have one perfect blastocyst thawed and transferred. This being my second ever FET (frozen embryo transfer) I felt simultaneously prepared and uncertain of what to expect. I remember the FET that brought us our precious Snow Pea so well, but that transfer came on the heels of a D&C following the failed pregnancy of my fresh IVF. I saw my RE and nurses constantly for months during that time. My life was consumed by nothing but trying to become a mom. Everything else came second. Everything.
This time around I could barely get up the guts to actually call my RE for the first consultation. I don't understand why, but I think the fabled "Infertility PTSD" hit me harder than I had realized. I have watched and cheered for so many of my fellow Infertile Parents as they have expanded their families with additional treatments or adoptions in the past two years. I never stop being thrilled for those friends who are fortunate enough to see their dreams come true and it is still thrilling to see it happen the second time. With each pal that embarked on treatment though, I became more nervous, more afraid. Originally, Chad and I had solid plans to start another FET nearly a year ago. But as that date drew near, we found reasons to move it back. Then the new planned time would come closer and we'd push it back again. There were always "reasons"- the sale of Chad's company, travel plans to visit family, wanting to sort out our finances. But the truth is I kept delaying because I was scared, too scared to move forward. Three years ago, we didn't let any of that get in our way. We were bright eyed, hopeful and desperate to be parents. Fear existed but our hope and our need to do everything we could in our quest for parenthood, outweighed any trepidation. We threw ourselves full force into every aspect of making our dream a reality.
Now that the dream has been realized, I kind of assumed that trying again one day would be a piece of cake. We have frozen embryos so that creates less strain both physically and financially. We knew what to expect and what our odds of success would be. And most important of all, we have the amazing little girl that made our dream of parenthood come true. If a second child isn't in our future, we are still parents. Our family of three is full of joy and happiness and if that is all we ever have, we will have more than enough. So when I realized how truly scared I was to try again, despite all of these things, I was surprised at myself. Every time I watched another friend on Twitter talk about starting treatments for baby #2, I marveled at her bravery and strength. I just didn't have it in me to even consider it yet. Strangely, knowing what to expect made me more nervous instead of less. I resented that I had to go through injections and medications and invasive ultrasounds and bloodwork and horrifically emotional waits all over again, just in the name of trying to have more of something I already feel beyond lucky to have at all. I mean, my dream was parenthood and I have that. Why should I have to go through that emotional hell again?
I have been absurdly low key about so much of this for a multitude of reasons. It feels incredibly selfish to think about baby #2 and to talk about how afraid I am to try again, when so many of those I love dearly are still fighting for baby #1. I know that my friends love and support me, no matter what mine or their circumstances may be, but I know it can still sting to be on that other side. Before my successful pregnancy, I had to avoid reading tweets and blogs from just about anyone that had moved forward to the next steps. I still loved & supported them and felt incredibly happy that their dream came true, but it hurt too much to expose myself directly to it. It may sound silly, but I felt like a jerk even considering making anyone listen to me whine about why I was afraid to do another FET. (you may have caught a vague tweet or two about this).
My crazy pessimism & fear has also made me very wary of having much conversation about the whole thing with anyone I know "in real life". The thought of giving updates to my friends and family throughout the whole process, answering questions, and putting on a optimistic, hopeful front just seemed so daunting and I wanted to do everything I could to avoid that. With that said, if we know each other in real life, please don't think I didn't want to talk to you personally. I'm just very guarded emotionally right now and it has no reflection on our relationship or how much I love you, because I promise I do. I just needed to protect myself. (also please keep what you are reading here to yourself, as I am still not sharing this widely).
The scariest thing of all of course, is realizing that in spite of my pessimism and bitterness about this whole process, hope has found it's way in. I can't help but envision our family of three becoming a family of four. I can't not see what an amazing big sister Eliana would be. How much she would love and care for a new baby. It really doesn't help my hopeful/fearful heart that she is now actually old enough to express these desires. "Mommy, may I have a baby brother, please?" is a popular request from her recently. She says it so sweetly, so sincerely, how can I not try to deliver?
The concept of family is one she is just beginning to learn and she is very excited to announce that Mommy and Daddy and Eliana are a family every chance she gets. I want to let go of the fear and be open to the hope that a new name will be added to her list soon, but if that doesn't happen for us, I know I will still be always happy, grateful and in love with the family I have. And that is stronger than any fear, guilt or stress I could ever face.
Although I still have a few days until my little Snow Pea is officially a year old, we held her big 1st birthday bash a few days ago. It was a musical themed Birthday Palooza and we had an absolute blast putting it together and even more fun enjoying it! Hope you enjoy the photos from Ellie Belly's fun day!
Dessert Table- This was one of my favorite aspects to plan and execute. We ordered simple but delicious cupcakes from a local bakery and had them dusted with sanding sugar in our party colors (bright pink, orange, turquoise, lime & yellow) and they included a free smash cake decorated like a drum. I made cupcake picks with scalloped circles and personalized confetti purchased on Etsy. Chad and I also handmade cake stand from old vinyl records by using gorilla glue to attach them to upside down margarita glasses. I also had fun making pretzel "drumsticks" with white chocolate and sprinkles. Chad used a free pennant printable I found to create the birthday banner. Add in the amazing re-purposed guitar plaque made by a friend, my hand-drawn music not confetti and rock candy and I am pretty much in love with this spread!
The Party- Eliana has been a music lover since day one. She dances and bounces to the beat of almost any song, can do the motions to "Wheels On the Bus" and "Itsy Bitsy Spider", loves to cheer and sing along and claps enthusiastically for an encore every time she hears music. Having a music themed party seemed like an obvious choice once I gave it some thought. We set up a play area with all of our musical instrument toys and nursery song board books. I really lucked out though, when an online deal site hosted a 75% off bargain for an hour-long music party from a truly fantastic local children's musician. The second Eliana saw the guitar in his hands she was transfixed and no interest in anything else but hearing the music he was about to play. Most of his stuff is original and I gotta say the songs were fun for the babies and the grown ups as he acted like pirates and shook the maracas he brought to play with. He also did some classics, including of course "Happy Birthday" and presented Eliana with his CD as her special gift. After baby music time, there was plenty of yummy food to eat at our sandwich bar and Rock Band gave the adults a chance to jam out too!
Special Touches- Photo timelines are getting really popular at first birthdays and as soon as I saw this cute idea, I knew I had to do it, so I hand-painted wooden clothespins in party colors with musical confetti to accent it and pinned up my favorite monthly photos on black & white along with her "Peas Out" newborn shot and of course her very first picture, as a recently thawed embryo. It was so cool to see how much she's grown in one line like that. I also snagged another cute idea I've seen done for 1st birthdays lately and had everyone fill out a card for her birthday time-capsule to be opened when she turns 18. Being a music party though, I added the twist of a song dedication for her to listen to when she turns 18. She had some really funny recommendations for that and I can't wait to see what she thinks of those songs when she turns 18. I ordered the super cute high chair banner on Etsy and then discovered that it wouldn't fit onto her high chair. I was bummed, but it still looked cute as part of the decor.
Party Favors- No party is complete with a little something to thank your guests for coming! We made VIP badges for all the babies as they arrived, personalized with their name & photo. This was one of my absolute favorite touches and all of the parents seemed excited about it too. We of course made one for Eliana as well, to put into her time capsule. I also put together favor bags for each baby with a toy maraca, tambourine and bubbles in a guitar shaped bottle all tied with ribbon and handmade favor tags that thanked Eliana's guests for rocking out with her.
The Dress- I wanted her to wear something a little special, she is the guest of honor after all, but I also wanted to keep it simple and comfortable. I found this adorable cotton and chiffon gray dress on clearance and ironed on the hot pink guitar patch. Pair it with some leggings and a bow to match and to match and you have one rocking birthday girl! 
Cake Smash! She was so flabbergasted during the birthday song before we blew out her candle together. she loves to hear people sing, but she's never seen an entire room full of people singing the same song to her! Once she had her cake in front of her, it took her a bit to realize she could dig in and eat this this thing. We gave her hand by literally smashing her hand into it to get it started. then she wanted to share and feed bites to Mommy & Daddy. Once she saw that we like it she was ready for a few little nibbles. She loved poking the red and yellow buttons around the top and spent some time going round and round poking each one. Finally, she dug her hand in and got a good taste and then it was all smiles as she gobbled up her first real serving of sugar.
As with all good things, the party had to come to an end, but not before we created a lot of new and wonderful memories together. It was so amazing to celebrate the greatest year of our lives and to honor our precious daughter in such a fun way. I can't say that we'll go this big every year, but I am so glad we did it for this one.
There are a lot of dates happening right now that I can't help but remember and reflect on their significance. Some of them happy, some sad, and some a strange mix of the two.
One year ago today, I was pregnant. Or if you want to look at it in the terms of the TTC community, I was technically PUPO, pregnant until proven otherwise. My first IVF transfer was exactly one year ago yesterday and one year ago today, Chad and I were a bundle of excitement, anxiety and nerves hoping that the transfer would be a successful one. I remember absolutely everything about how I felt that day. It was even more special and memorable because it was not only the day my little blasties would either implant or not, it was also our 3 year wedding anniversary. We couldn't help but smile nervously with the hope that our baby might be snuggling in on the anniversary of the best day of both our lives. And less than two weeks later we learned that our Sprout had in fact snuggled in, but sadly didn't continue to grow much longer than that, and by the time April came, instead of being happy and hopeful, we were sad and heartbroken. Which means that many memorable dates of the unhappy kind are ahead of us. And that in itself creates a crazy swirl of emotions inside me. My miscarriage is still the absolute hardest and worst thing I have ever had to experience. And there are still places and things from that time period I can't visit or see without crying. I will always mourn that loss, but I also recognize that I wouldn't be pregnant with this baby, with my Snow Pea, and I love her with all that I am. It is very conflicting to still miss Sprout but to not be able to even think of life without Snow Pea. With her due date fast approaching, I can't help but see the connections and feel the confliction. I didn't even realize until recently that my daughter would be born one year after the same time period as the worst moments of my life. It makes me wonder if her being born at the same time was somehow deliberate, meant to bring us healing and love during a time that we'd otherwise remember as painful.
There are other important anniversaries of our journey to parenthood happening around now. Last year on March 12th, I went in for my egg retrieval where my RE collected 21 eggs, 15 of which fertilized and one of which is now the daughter I have reached a full term pregnancy with. It is crazy to think that my unborn child was conceived over a year ago! And even crazier to think that her future sibling(s) were too! Of course, Sprout was conceived that day as well, so it is a bit bittersweet to think about that day but for the most part it is memory filled with hope and awe at what it has resulted in.
You may have picked up on my mention that one year ago today, I was not only PUPO, but also that it was our 3 year wedding anniversary, which means today is 4 years. And I have to say just how wonderful it is to be celebrating another year of marriage to my partner in life and my best friend. The years we spent facing infertility, the rounds of treatment and the loss of my first pregnancy all roll together into what is hands down the hardest battle either of us have ever dealt with, but having done it together has made us a stronger couple than I ever imagined possible. I knew I was making the best decision of my life the day I literally exclaimed "I Do!" but I didn't know just how right I really was. As memorable as these other dates are and always will be, none of them are as important as March 18, 2007, which was quite literally the best day of my life and the day my family truly began.
I am happy to report that yesterday's transfer went smoothly and I am now enjoying a cozy day in bed so that my little embies can snuggle in for the next nine months. I was nervous about the thaw and had wondered whether I would get a call from the lab before we went in. When I didn't, I assumed that no news must be good news and hoped for the best.
Thankfully we were able to meet with the embryologist as soon as we arrived at the lab. He told us that both of the embryos selected for thaw were defrosted successfully and we had 2 blastocysts, one 4AA & one 4AB, ready for transfer. (for info on blastocyst grading click here) He said they were thawed using a newer technique which makes their chances of successful pregnancy pretty comparable to the blasts we transferred during the fresh cycle. This definitely gives me some hope since, although I miscarried, that transfer was successful.
Dr. Jedi was, as always, a calming and optimistic presence and he was very pleased with the way everything went. My uterine lining was ideal and the placement was perfect. Even the lab technician responsible for the embryos commented on how great everything looked. The best part though was that they positioned the ultrasound screen just right so that I could actually see the transfer. I cannot tell you how amazing it was to see those two little tiny white dots enter my body, my beautiful little snowflakes. Once, we were alone in the room, Chad and I both had tears in our eyes, overwhelmed by the emotion of that moment. Now comes the truly hard part, surviving the anxiety ridden 2ww. I have a list of things planned to try and keep myself occupied but I know that my embies and my hopes for them will never be far from the very forefront of my thoughts. Right now though, I am doing everything I can to stay relaxed and hopeful for my tough, little snowflakes.
It's one week into FET and the only big news is that there is no big news. MY RE's office proved to be awesome, yet again, by getting me in for a date with wandy the very same day that AF came and starting me on meds. The list of which is somewhat short. There are still plenty of needles and pill bottles this time around, but nothing compared to arsenal I faced during the fresh cycle. My evening prenatal vitamins were already habit, so other than an injection every 3 days, I am barely even aware that I am doing a cycle right now. It almost feels like I am not.
It is very strange. I almost miss the high level of involvement that came with the fresh IVF. There was a lo to deal witht, but at least with the constant shots and changes in my body I had some physical proof that big things were happening. With the FET there is nothing. My ovaries don't need to be doing anything special, they are barely even a factor this time around, so there is no tummy swelling, no hot flashes, no mood swings. This is great in so many ways. I honestly don't think my fragile heart and mind could handle the ups and downs of a fresh cycle after the miscarriage, so for that reason I am grateful for just how much easier FET is, but I also almost miss these symptoms because they gave me indicators of progress. Yes, hot flashes are miserable, but when they happened I knew the drugs, and my body, were doing what they were supposed to do. This time, I am assuming the drugs are priming my lining for implantation as they should, but until my ultrasound, which is a week away, I have no way to gauge if it's working well.
Adding to the feeling of inactivity is just how short my FET cycle is compared to the fresh one. Last time I had to start with a month of BCP, followed by a few weeks of lupron and then stims and then retrieval before finally reaching transfer day. There was constant activity and there were many milestones along the way. This time I have one, maybe two more ultrasounds and then it's transfer time! How crazy is that? In 2 weeks I will be PUPO! I waited for AF and this cycle for so long that now it feels so crazy to me how quick it is going to be. There are some great things to be said about this short cycle though, for one that I will be starting and finishing it within the same month. I will have an answer, positive or negative, before July is over.
Even though I miss some of that constant activity of IVF, and the productive feeling it gave me, it also made me that much more aware of the 2ww. Going from constant appointments, wandings, injections, and blood draws to absolutely nothing but waiting for 2 weeks was maddening. This time around I am doing virtually nothing before the transfer, so I'm thinking that now doing virtually nothing after won't feel like quite such a shock to the system. Although, I know that no matter how ready I am for the 2ww, it will still be long and agonizing, hopefully this, along with a weekend away right before beta, will keep me at least mostly sane. Mostly though FET so far really does feel unproductive. I know I am doing everything I can and should be doing, but it feels a lot like I am doing nothing. Last time, I was growing eggs. My body was an engine, revved up to it's full potential in creation. It was actively doing something. I feel like it is more out of my hands this time, since it is all out of my body now. It felt like I could visualize and meditate to encourage the growth of strong, healthy eggs. This time I just sit around waiting, watching the ice melt. I have no control over whether the melt will be successful (not that I really had any control last time but the illusion was nice). I just have to hope and pray that my little embies survive the thaw and snuggle in for nine happy, healthy months.
The transfer is complete and these are the two little embies now safely tucked into my womb. The RE said I had a perfect 3 layer uterine lining and the embryologist informed us that the other 13 embies are all great blastocysts and ready for freezing. Now I'm all snuggled in bed in my festive green jammies, ready to help my sprouts grow! This is all so much better than I expected. Feels like a lucky day!
HAPPY ST. PATRICK"S DAY EVERYONE!
My transfer is scheduled for tomorrow morning at 11:45am and I couldn't be more excited, or nervous for that matter. I am also still very in awe that this whole process is actually happening and feeling a lot like Alice down the rabbit hole. It is all still so very surreal.
After this procedure I will have an embryo(s) made up of me and Chad inside my body. (we still don't know if we are transferring one or two). Those embryos are alive and growing in the lab and in less than 24 hours at least one of them will be in my womb. Wow! there's a word I haven't used much since being diagnosed infertile, uterus sure but never womb. It feels kinda nice, sort of corny but also more homey than the medical sounding uterus. I mean is that what I will say to my kids? "You grew in mommy's uterus"? Actually I'd probably feel weird saying "womb" too. I will most likely go with the standard "tummy". Whoa, where did this sidetracked rant come from? Sorry about that. Nerves.
Anyway, once my little embie(s) is transferred, I will be operating under the mantra of PUPO, Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise. So, since tomorrow I WILL be pregnant, I have been running through the list of pregnancy no-no's and doing as many of them as I can. For the past week or so I have been having wine with dinner, enjoying sushi lunches, going out for a beer on the weekends, eating deli meat sandwiches, sipping fully-caffeinated lattes, taking the hottest showers imaginable and indulging in any of life's other pleasure that should not be had while growing a person. I got my hair cut and most importantly colored (thanks to the wonderful Bonnie and Amy). I went to Disneyland and rode every single ride in the joint, especially the coasters and thrill rides that are not recommended for expectant mothers or people with heart conditions. I have actually wondered if riding space mountain twice played a part in moving my left ovary to where I needed it to be (you can catch up on that story here) Tonight, we are having the good kind of sushi one more time, with wine of course, and then a latte in the morning before the transfer.
Not only has it been fun to live up my last few pre-pregnancy days, it has really helped keep my spirits high while enduring the daily injections and constant bloating. And I truly feel that, while I love sushi and wine, I will love being pregnant even more and I am ready to give these things up until next year. I just can't believe tomorrow is the transfer! No green beer or Guinness for me on St. Patrick's Day, but hopefully the luck of the Irish will be with me and my little embie(s). And the following day is our 3 year wedding anniversary. I can't think of a better anniversary gift than this. Of course, I am also trying to brace myself for the anxiety of the wait until my beta test to determine if I truly am pregnant, and for the possibility that the test will come back negative, but mostly I am trying to think positive and believe that this really will be the last time I do this stuff for a long time. And now that it is all out of my system, I am just so ready to focus on relaxing and being ready to accept and nurture new life.Wish Me Luck!
The weekend is winding down and I am realizing what a blog slacker I have been. My wonderful husband was kind of enough to post this update while I was unconscious and having my eggs removed and was even nice enough to allow me to be the one to share the results of said egg retrieval but I waited until now to actually post an update. Bad blogger.
As Chad so kindly reported, I was pretty fearless going into the procedure, but that it must be said how easy that is to do when you're asleep before they even wheel you into the operating room. I remember the anesthesiologist telling me he was putting "the good stuff" into my IV and the next thing I knew he was shaking my shoulder telling me it was time to wake up. And as quick as it felt, I later learned it really was almost that fast. I rested for a bit and got some much needed pain meds for the aching in my abdomen, and then it was time to be on our way. Dr Jedi had been out to let Chad know all had gone well, and they would be calling shortly to let us know how many eggs were retrieved.
My phone rang even before we got home and we got the very exciting news that 21 eggs had been retrieved! The left ovary caused absolutely no problems and he had full access to all of my follicles! Nothing left to do but go home, rest and wait for a call the next morning to tell us the overnight fertilization report.
Early in the process of our IVF journey, Chad and I spent a week talking to our doctor, consulting books and websites and discussing with each other whether or not to utilize intracytoplasmic sperm injection i.e. ICSI, in this cycle. For those that don't know, ICSI is basically the process of directly injecting a single sperm into an egg to cause fertilization. After weighing the pros and cons and taking into account Chad's high motility, we decided against ICSI because we felt that given the choice, we'd prefer the eggs to fertilize more closely to how they would inside my body. But we also knew that we still ran the risk that fertilization would fail. No one knows why but even with healthy sperm and eggs there are times when the embryologist comes in the morning after and finds that fertilization has completely failed. Needless to say, we were a bit anxious for the phone call that would deliver the news of whether such a fate had befallen our 21 little eggies. Luckily, the call came quickly on Saturday morning and we learned that of the 21 eggs retrieved 15 had fertilized! 15! I was so excited and relieved to hear that number! The nurse told me that this most likely meant we would be doing a day 5 blastocyst transfer on Wednesday, but to be on stand-by for the possibility of a day 3 transfer on Monday. She said they would call me at about 10 o'clock Monday morning with another update. So we spent the rest of the weekend as if it was just any other weekend. Lunch with friends, afternoon nap, picnic in the park, but really we both know this hasn't been any other weekend. I keep thinking about my embies. I keep wondering how they're doing. If they are growing and how quickly. I wonder how many are boys and how many are girls, which ones have the DNA for my nose and Chad's ears. I already feel so attached, so maternal. We drove past the center where we know they are last night, and couldn't help but say hi to them as we did so. We told them we hope they are doing well and that we are so excited to know they are there. It is a truly surreal feeling to know my potential children exist, they are dividing and growing and they are doing it outside of body, about 20 miles away as a matter of fact. It makes me feel like I already am pregnant in a way, just not physically. I have loved my child since before we even started trying to concieve, but now that I know embryos exist that are made up of me and Chad, I can't help but feel my heart swell even more. It is truly a miracle to know that we (with the help of a wonderful team of doctors and embryologists) have created life that is part me and part him. It exists in this world and it just blows me away every time I think about it. What blows me away even more is how much I already love them.
