Ultrasound 10 weeks 2 days - Our Little Nubbins

Grateful

I was 10 weeks this past Tuesday, and am counting down every week to we can breathe a little easier after the first trimester.

There really are no words to describe the depth of love that I already feel for this tiny baby growing inside me. You can always imagine how that feels, but never breach the true meaning of love for your own child until you have one of your own. I cry every time I think about it.

Although I have been very tired and nauseous, I love the feeling of being pregnant. That at any time of the day I can think about my little one here with me. Our bond has already started and I can’t imagine how much more I will love it when I can hold it in my arms.

Don and I became very cautious about getting too excited after my first couple of ultrasounds that really didn’t show us much. The first time we saw our baby is a day neither of us will ever forget.

I knew I was far enough along that we should at least see the baby at this ultrasound appointment and my stomach was in knots. I could not even allow myself to be prepared if we did not see it. My heart jumped into my throat as soon as the doctor inserted the probe and there on the screen was our baby. I was really not prepared as he focused in on a little flashing bulb in the center of our baby. It was our babies’ heart! I completely lost control and began to cry, and Don held my hand and cried with me. I looked around the room and everyone was crying! Then we got to hear the little swoosh, swoosh, swoosh of the beats. It was simply amazing.
Amazing that God had created this life, half of me and half of my Don, and it was growing inside of me. It was like an out of body experience. Thoughts that I had dreamed about my entire life, but at the same time seemed so foreign and out of reach. I am so grateful.

Our First Ultrasounds

Throughout all the surprises, we still did not know if there was one baby or two. Since we had put two embryos back in we were praying for twins, and my beta numbers were high so the doctor thought it was a good possibility. When I went in for the first ultrasound we were hoping to see two little sacs. We barely saw one. And because my doctor is very cautious only called this one a “possible sac”. So I began to worry again. What if they did not take, what if I lost them early. I read about how it was common for women to lose pregnancies this early and not even know that they were ever pregnant. Impossible for us not to know since we literally knew the first day we could. Would these babies just vanish? Again with the waiting….. We went in for the second ultrasound and the sac was twice as big, but there was just one and we couldn’t see the baby at all. One empty sac. I knew in my heart to be glad that the sac was there even if it was just one, but I mourned for the one embryo that was lost.

It is so strange to mourn for a baby that was never meant to be according to God’s hand. But it did exist, if only for a few days, and I had already let myself dream of double cribs and a baby on each knee. Don especially was happy it could be twins so that they he would not be any older when our second child is born. We both took it hard. The doctor reassured us that this was “Nature’s” way of taking care of things. That women were not built to carry more than one child and the risk was much less with a single pregnancy. After mourning for the one we lost, we decided to rejoice in the one we still had.

But I did become a little cynical not seeing a baby on the ultrasound screen yet. An empty sac was all I had so far. I had read posts about seeing the baby and hearing a heart beat as early as this. I started to question if it was real. I think every pregnant woman goes through this insanity though. Now that the excruciatingly painful waiting of IVF was over, the excruciating waiting of pregnancy began. You are told so many things. Just wait until 12 weeks, then your chance of miscarriage goes down and you can tell your family. Just wait until 22 weeks, that way it had a chance of survival if the baby is born early. I guess now that I am mother, I join all the other Moms in countdowns that never really end. After the baby is born I am sure it becomes wait until they are in school, wait until they graduate, wait until they are financially secure… and so it begins.
Even though we had told just about everyone, and even though we had seen the sac on the ultrasound, it really wasn’t real to us just yet.

More Surprises

When we pulled it together we decided the surprise was so much fun we needed to surprise the rest of our family. My whole family thought my appointment was going to be on Wednesday because it was originally supposed to be. I moved it to Tuesday because it was better for me, but we didn’t tell anyone so we could at least have a day to process it all before people started asking. We realized this gave us the opportunity to surprise everyone so we capitalized on it.

We hurried over to my parents house, who were both still at work. We put up a baby banner and brought the balloons. I had also bought two sets of feety pajamas, one pink and one blue that said “I love my Grandma” and “I’m on Grandpa’s team”. We set everything up and waited for Mom to get home. While we waited on her we covertly called our family to ask if they wanted to go out to eat with us. The nerves and the waiting had gotten to us, and we needed to get away and not think about it, we told them. Mom was running late, so I conjured up a reason I could have stopped by her house and called her. She was just down the street.

We got into our places and as soon as she came it we each held up the pajamas and yelled that we were pregnant. The look on her face was priceless, and we all cried a little. She was so surprised and I loved it.

We were going to wait for my Dad, but she called and he was working late. We had to get to the restaurant so she told him to meet her there. When we got to the restaurant the whole family was in the parking lot. They saw the balloons so we went ahead and told everyone. Everyone except Dad.

When we all got into the restaurant, we made a deal with the waiter. He was going to take the balloons to the back and when Dad got there he would bring them out. So everyone waited anxiously for Dad to come in. He came in about ten minutes later and the waiter brought out the pink and blue balloons and handed them to him. He was surprised too and we all cried.

You would think after all the surprises we would have been surprised out, but we still had two very important people to tell. Don’s boys are 18 and 21, and we really had no clue about how they would take the news. We chose not to tell them about IVF after we told them about Don’s surgery and Don’s ex-wife told them it would never be possible for us to conceive. We just thought it would be easier, especially if it did not work.

I was more nervous about how they would take it than Don was. I just thought how upsetting it would be if they really didn’t care or even were upset about it. I hoped that they would look at our child as a true brother or sister and want to be part of their lives. But with teenagers, you never really know.

We invited them over for an early Easter cookout. I thought it would be a good idea to get them Easter baskets and hide something in them. So I went a little overboard and had t-shirts made for them. Justin was the oldest so I got him a plain black shirt with Big Brother written on it. The word “big” was crossed out and “biggest” was wrote above it. Jordan’s shirt had “Little Brother” written on it with the word “Little” crossed out and “Big” wrote above it. Then we got a little white onesie with “Baby Brother? (or Sister, or Both!) “ written in the middle of it. We stuffed the t-shirts in the middle of their Easter baskets. When they got there, I couldn’t wait and we handed them their Easter baskets. They both pulled the t-shirts out at the same time. They read them and sat in silence. They didn’t get it at first. Then Don held up the baby onesie and it took a minute and they both looked at me and then at my stomach. They were actually pleasantly surprised. They asked questions, and thought of names all through dinner. They both want a little sister. It warmed my heart that they seemed happy about it.

Laughed Until We Cried

So for once in my life, my words seemed to have failed me. I have put off writing about it because there are no words great or deep enough to explain it. Along with the lack of words, I think I have been in a glorious shock, almost not believing it is real.

On April 19th, we had our first beta blood test after the transfer of our two embryos, and although I had an intuitive feeling that at least one of the babies was still with me, I was so very anxious. I had broken down and taken pregnancy tests twice a day and had gotten positives, but Don refused to believe it until the doctor said so. So that day I nervously drove to the doctor’s office and gave blood. They said they would call me around lunch time. I took the day off from work because I figured either way, I wouldn’t be useful. Since I felt like I just knew, I had already made big plans for the day anyway. I find it hard to believe that women don’t know they are pregnant. Because I just KNEW it. I wasn’t really having any symptoms to speak of, but I did have a different feeling, almost like I could feel my baby snuggling in.
I had dreamed my whole life, of that moment when I could surprise my husband that I was pregnant. You see it in movies, you hear about it in country songs. After we got married a song by Jason Aldean came out called “Laughed until We Cried”. There is a verse in the song that literally made Don and I both cry when we listened to it, because we had dreamed of that moment not knowing if it would every truly happen. It went something like this:
Just the other night the baby was cryin’
So I got out of bed rocked her awhile
And I held her tight
And I told her it would be all right
And my mind went back to a few years ago
When we tried so long
We almost gave up hope
And I remember you
Comin' in and tellin’ me the news

Oh man we were livin’
Goin’ crazy in the kitchen
We danced and screamed and held each other tight
We laughed until we cried

That is exactly how we both pictured it I think. But with IVF, you are robbed a little of that moment because you are so focused on finding out and testing. I had a little of that left because Don truly would not believe it yet, so after my doctor’s appointment I got busy. Earlier in the week I had optimistically went by Lowe’s and found a miniature workbench and little tools. Don is a carpenter at heart and loves to work with his tools, so I thought it would be neat to be part of the surprise. I had hid it in our hall closet. After I gave blood they told me they would call around 11:00am, so I lied and told Don they wouldn’t call until around 2:00. I had a plan. I went by a few places to pick up some things for my surprise like a banner and balloons and such, and rushed home to start on putting it together. During this whole time it never crossed my mind that they would call with a negative. I knew Don would be out at work all day so I had time, but when I opened the box, it was literally in a thousand pieces. It helped take my mind off waiting so I hurriedly tried to get it together.

I was sitting in the middle of a pile of nuts, bolts, and screws, with pieces of the workbench everywhere when I got the call. I whispered a quick prayer and walked out on the front porch to answer. It was the sweet nurse from the doctor’s office and she was already crying. “Yes!” she screamed as I felt my knees buckle. Although I had felt that I had known, I was not prepared for the shock. I thanked her through my tears and went inside and sat on the floor and cried. I just remember thanking God over and over through my tears. I didn’t have very much time to revel in our victory because I had to get moving on this workbench. Don called to say he was done with work early so I asked him to stall a little. I think he had a hunch I was planning something.

So in the middle of all the chaos, Jordan, my step son walked in the house. He didn’t know I was going to be there, and we hadn’t told Don’s boys about the IVF, so I think we both looked like a deer in headlights. Here I was in the middle of the floor, sweat pouring and poufy eyed, with balloons and stuff everywhere. He asked what all this was for and the first thing that came to my mind was that Easter was that weekend and I was building the workbench for my nephew. Lame, I know but it seemed to stave off any further questioning. So I moved my workbench and balloons into the bedroom. I knew I only had a few minutes until Don was here and I was hoping Jordan would leave so I could really surprise him.

I had another good cry when I dug a target bag out from under the bed that I had hidden there a year and a half ago. After Don’s reversal surgery and when we first started trying, I secretly bought a baby onesie that said “I love my Daddy” on it with a baby rattle. I always thought if I found out I would not be able to keep it from Don so it would be something I could use to surprise him in a clutch. I didn’t know it would be so long and such a hard road to get to before I could use them.
So I finished the workbench (let’s just say there were some extra screws left over) and I tied the balloons on it. I sat a little stuffed animal with the onesie and a card on top of it with a sign that read “Daddy’s Little Helper. We REALLY ARE PREGNANT!” at the bottom. Jordan left so I breathed a sigh of relief and waited for Don to get home.

When Don came home, his first words were asking if the doctor’s office had called yet. I lied and told him no. A few minutes later I said, “Oh, come look at what the dog did…” and led him to our bedroom door. He followed quickly behind me and was completely surprised when he saw the little workbench. Tears filled both our eyes because he knew the doctor had called. “We are pregnant!” I screamed like I had dreamed of my entire life, and we both laughed until we cried.

Songs that changed my life during this process.

So I am a big song person. I love to find songs that totally connect to my situation and wear them out playing them over and over. It's a coping mechanism I think. When I started this IVF journey, I made an IVF playlist. This consisted mainly of songs that told me to tough it out. Here was my list:
Perfect by Pink
Dare You to Move by Switchfoot
Dreams by The Cranberries
Blessed by Elton John
Hand in my Pocket by Alanis Morissette
Here I Go Again by Whitesnake
Hold On by Wilson Phillips
In my Place by Coldplay
It's My Life by Bon Jovie
Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovie
Keep Holding On by Avril Lavigne
Little Miss by Sugarland
My Wish by Rascal Flatts
Smile by Lyle Lovett (don't listen to this one if you are going through IVF, BAD IDEA)
Let Go by Frou Frou
So Hard by the Dixie Chicks
Sara Smile by Hall and Oates
True Colors by Cyndi Lauper
Stand by Rascal Flatts
Wonder by Natalie Merchant
When you Love Someone by Bryan Adams
I Would Die for That by Kellie Coffey

I know, its a random smorgasbord, but it helped me through. On the days it just felt really tough Stand and Keep Holding on were great. On the days I felt completely alone, Little Miss and Perfect by Pink totally helped me feel stronger. Anyway, so the hardest song to listen to was the one by Kellie Coffey. I had read on other blogs it was the best song about going through IVF so I downloaded it without even listening to it. At this point I think I was driving every morning to the doctors office for ultrasounds of my follicles and at the height of my hormone injections. I got in the car and the song literally came on as I backed out of the garage. Here are the words:

Jenny was my best friend.
Went away one summer.
Came back with a secret
She just couldn't keep.
A child inside her,
Was just too much for her
So she cried herself to sleep.

And she made a decision
Some find hard to accept.
Too young to know that one day
She might live to regret.

But I would die for that.
Just to have one chance
To hold in my hands
All that she had.
I would die for that.

I've been given so much,
A husband that I love.
So why do I feel incomplete?
With every test and checkup
We're told not to give up.
He wonders if it's him.
And I wonder if it's me.

All I want is a family,
Like everyone else I see.
And I won't understand it
If it's not meant to be.

Cause I would die for that.
Just to have one chance
To hold in my hands
All that they have.
I would die for that.

And I want to know what it's like
To bring a dream to life.
For that kind of love,
What I'd give up!
I would die for that.

Sometimes it's hard to conceive,
With all that I've got,
And all I've achieved,
What I want most
Before my time is gone,
Is to hear the words
"I love you, Mom."

I would die for that.
Just to have once chance
To hold in my hands
What so many have
I would die for that.

And I want to know what it's like
To bring a dream to life.
How I would love
What some give up.
I would die ...
I would die for that.

Needless to say, by the time I got a few miles down the road I was crying so hard I couldn't see straight. Definitely was not prepared, but it touched my heart so much that I played it over and over that day. It is a sad song, but it was me...it was exactly me. And somehow it made it better that I was not the only one.

Another song that meant a lot to me is I Won't Let Go by Rascal Flatts. My husband is a man's man. He only listens to music for the music, and rarely listens to the words. One day we got in his truck to go somewhere, this during all my injections when I felt so sick. When I feel sick I just get really quite and kind of withdraw to myself and so we were driving pretty silently. This song came on, and I listened to the words and thought what a great love song. I didn't expect that Don was listening to the words, but he reached over and grabbed my hand and squeezed it and held it tight until the song was over. He didn't even have to say anything, but at that moment, I didn't feel so alone in the whole process. He doesn't even know that it meant that much to me, but it did. Here are the words:

It’s like a storm
That cuts a path
It’s breaks your will
It feels like that

You think your lost
But your not lost on your own
Your not alone

I will stand by you
I will help you through
When you’ve done all you can do
and you can’t cope
I will dry your eyes
I will fight your fight
I will hold you tight
And I wont let go

It hurts my heart
To see you cry
I know it’s dark
This part of life
Oh it finds us all
And we’re too small
To stop the rain
Oh but when it rains

I will stand by you
I will help you through
When you’ve done all you can do
And you can’t cope
I will dry your eyes
I will fight your fight
I will hold you tight
And I wont let you fall

Don’t be afraid to fall
I’m right here to catch you
I wont let you down
It wont get you down
Your gonna make it
Yea I know you can make it

Cause I will stand by you
I will help you through
When you’ve done all you can do
And you can’t cope
And I will dry your eyes
I will fight your fight
I will hold you tight
And I wont let go

Oh I’m gonna hold you
And I wont let go
Wont let you go
No I wont

This was one of those moments when you know that you are exactly with the person you are supposed to be with. In those quiet moments that you say nothing, but will remember the rest of your life. In that moment, I knew I could do this, that WE could do this.

The Wait...again

So like I have said before, the hardest part of this whole process is the waiting. Little did I know that all those times before when I prayed for patience, God was saying, "You have no idea what you are asking for...." because boy, was he getting ready to teach me. Although I don't feel like all this waiting has really taught me any more patience, it still drives me completely bonkers. After the transfer, I went home and got in bed for three days of bedrest. The first day, me and bed rest were friends, but the second I was not so excited, and the third, I was totally losing it. I had never ached from being in bed before. Stupid thing to complain about at this point, but nonetheless it was trying. Especially when you have to wonder the entire time what the heck was going on inside you. I started to analyze everything...was that something? No, just gas. I nearly had a panic attack when I sneezed on the second day. I would stare for periods of forever at my little picture of our embryos, but didn't dare let myself imagine what they would look like or what we would name them. I was still getting over the soreness of the retrieval and I think I watched about every movie in our local "red box".

I had secretly already stacked up on pregnancy tests, because I just knew I was going to be "that person". I had read that by 5 days after the transfer, all the hcg I had injected would be gone and I could legitimately test. Well, I couldn't wait that long. Staying true to my very impatient self, I tested at day 4. It was completely negative and no matter how long I stared, a line just would not form. "Okay, I told myself, this is a good sign, all the hcg is out of my system...If I get a positive from here on out, I am definitely pregnant.

So I tested that afternoon, the next morning, and every half day up to my blood test. That is a lot of tests!!!!

The Transfer and feeling prayers

My embryo transfer was scheduled for a Sunday. We got up early, I couldn't sleep very well anyway from being so excited, and hit the road. We got behind the slowest old lady driver on the face of the planet. She actually braked when someone approached us from the other lane. So after a few expletives from my road raging husband, I decided it was the perfect time to take the Valium they prescribed. We both were so nervous and spun up at that moment I think we drove it mostly silence. When we got to the office, they were ready for us and I went straight back. This time, I could put my hospital gown on with great comfort, opening in the back, and I went into the room and got on the table. The nurse came in and said Don had put the scrubs over his street clothes so she had to make him go back and strip and put new scrubs on. He came in and stood beside me. They told me I had to have a full bladder so I had drank a 32 oz of powerade on the way in, and I was already feeling it. They checked out my bladder to make sure I wasn't faking it, and the embryologist came in to show us our "family portrait". She had a picture of all of our little embryos. On the way over, Don and I had the conversation about what we would do if it came down to us deciding if it was one or two that would go back in. We had talked about it so much, but I wanted to make sure we both had the same plan because we had gone back and forth. Don had initially wanted twins. That way he wasn't any older when we had the second one, and we could totally get in on a Buy one get one. But after talking to the doctor about how the risk doubles for both the babies and the Mom with twins, he said the goal of IVF is a single birth and at my age that is what they would recommend if we had a clearly strong embryo. So as my Valium kicked in, we decided that if we had a clear front runner, I mean the best of the best, we would go with one, and if not, we would just know. Maybe it was the Valium, but I just had a feeling that we would know what to do, that God would make it clear to us. Because, secretly, I wanted two. So as she was showing us the picture of all of the fifteen embryos, she showed us the ones that had not made it. I silently said a little prayer of sadness for those little ones. Then we saw the best of the best. It was a grade 4AA which was the highest possible grade you can have. She had even put a little reaffirming check by it. The doc said, this embryo is so great we recommend just one. Don and I looked at each other remembering what we had said and we agreed. So everyone got in position. Doc looked like a catcher waiting for the embryologist to throw the first pitch. Then, a pause....She needed to speak to the doctor in private. Oh no.....something is wrong...we thought. When they came back in, she had a new picture. This one had two embryos on it. One looked a little smaller than the other. She said she had something to explain to us, which was very hard to understand in her thick asian accent. She said that the smaller one was actually our frontrunner, the embryo we decided was going in by itself. But when she took a picture of it for us, it had collapsed a little. She said 70% chance it was a good thing. Apparently when the embryo is getting ready to hatch it balls up to gather its energy and expands out of the shell. She said this was good. OR it could be collapsing because it was dying. She said she went on this hunch with two other women in the past and she was wrong. The other embryo in the picture was a 4BB and was our second best. She now recommended putting back both of them. Just in case..... Don and I looked at each other, like, I know we talked about this, but are we ready for twins?!?!? But at the same time I think we both felt a peace about it, like it was meant to be. She was meant to see that in the picture at that exact second, and if we had twins, it was just God's will that we have them. So, since they were waiting for "our final answer" like we were about to win a million dollars if we said the right thing, I said "Twins it is!". So doc got back in catching position and embryologist went back to the pitcher's mound. I closed my eyes and prayed and felt Don do it too. He leaned over me and kissed me on the forehand and we both shared a tear. This was the moment we had been waiting for. After this, we had done everything we physically and possibly could do and it was left to the Big Man from there. They placed them in their new little home through a catheter, and there they were on the ultrasound screen - shining fluorescent. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Others say it is important to have positive visualizations while you wait, so here is what I pictured. My tiny tiny babies in feety pajamas float into their new room for the next nine months. There is a plush pallette of down comforters and the softest blankets imaginable. They cuddle together and snuggle under the blankets for a long nap. Snug as two bugs in a rug. At the same time, I felt this overwhelming feeling of peace and comfort. Turns out, my Sunday School class, who happens to be taught by my Dad, gathered at 10:00am (the time of our appointment) and collectively prayed for us and our babies. I can't explain how much this meant to me, even when I did now know it. Prayer truly works and I hope I have the opportunity to be a testimony to that when we get our results. Until then we keep praying, and I keep saying to myself..."Snug as two bugs in a rug"

Violet Beauregard without the oompa loompa's

I always wondered what it would be like to be Violet Beauregard from Willy Wonka. You know, how would it feel to become a human blueberry? I think I can really sympathize with her now. I feel like her except in a very pale shade of white. I do feel a little better today, but yesterday boy oh boy... I've always wondered how they took care of ole' violet. Apart from being swollen like a beached whale, I am feeling a little better everyday. Seems like I am trying to rush that so I am ready for Sunday. I am sooooooooo excited. Just think...on Sunday, I will be pregnant until otherwise proven by the blood test. Wow. What a journey. I did take a little tiny sneek peek today at some cool websites for nursery ideas. Too early? Maybe. I am very ashamed that I was unable to button my jeans this morning, so I wore sweatpants to work. Granted it is a Friday, but shame, shame, shame. Hopefully I can get rid of enough bloat to fit into my regular clothes. It's bad to look pregnant before you even are :) Oh well, just another thing. Waiting to hear today how my little embies are doing. Today would have been the three day transfer if they weren't looking so hot, so just that I am transferring Sunday is a good sign!

Egg Retrieval - Just call me the Cadbury Bunny :)

So two days ago I had my egg retrieval. One of the three most important dates in this long process of invitro (transfer, and test being the other two). But this was my moment to shine, and I feel pretty darn proud of myself for my contribution. It was severely storming here on Tuesday as we made our way over to the lab at 6:00am. When we got there we had to wait awkwardly in the room with another husband and his mother. I was just waiting for them to call Don or the other husband back to the "sample" room so we could all be really uncomfortable, but I was luckily spared from this. We anxiously waiting for about 30 minutes until the anesthesiologist called me back. He took me to this tiny room and handed me tiny robe and blue socks and told me to get undressed and crack the door so that he would know I was finished. So I did and I tried to put the robe on with the opening in the front (which made more sense to me at the time) but it completely did not cover me up. I thought, oh man, does the opening go in the front or back? And why was it so small!?!? So I cracked the door and stuck my head out to take a peek to ask him, and he wasn't there. No one was there. So I stood there for a second and decided to make a last second switch and put the opening in the back. I tied the ties as tight as I could, but I could feel the breeze and knew that all mankind would see my butt if I walked out of the room. I slipped on the socks that had the no slip grippers on the bottom like feety pajamas have and cracked the door. I stood there rethinking my decision to put the opening in the back, since I could no longer control what was showing back there and there he was....waiting for me to walk ahead of him. Great I have to walk ahead of him, no shame no gain right? Well, at this point, after showing my hoohah to everyone that works at the clinic in some form or fashion, does it really matter if they see the back view? Anyway, so they lay me on this table that (very unfortunately) reminded me of the table that they strap someone down to do lethal injections on. They strapped my legs and arms in while the anesthesiologist made a joke about needing to strap me down so that I didn't help and he started an IV and about five seconds later the room started spinning. Right before I went to sleep the embryologist introduced herself to me as our first babysitter. I thought that was kind of cute. I felt the need to announce that I was about to go out, so I did and thats all I remember about that. When I woke up the first thing I said was "how many eggs did we get?" And they told me, and then she said I asked another four times. I was in some major pain, and very grumpy all the sudden so I just decided to keep my mouth shut. Don helped me to the truck and we drove home, feelin every little bump. I was in some major pain. Apparently I had over 35 follicles that they drained, getting 20 eggs. The procedure that normally took 15 min took 45 min with me. They were very afraid I would become very ill with OHSS (ovary hyper stimulation syndrome) since I had so many follicles. I went straight to bed for the rest of the day. Apart from having a major cold sweat meltdown (due to the anesthesia I am guessing), and the extreme soreness I was doing ok. Okay, except for the fact that my loving husband, who makes me laugh constantly, was really trying to make me feel better by trying to get me to laugh which really hurt. If you have ever seen "Swamp People", Don does the best impression of Troy (which we dub "fat tongue"). And while any other time his impression would have brightened my day, that day it just hurt. One of my best friends brought us some supper and my parents came over with my niece and nephew which was nice. The next day, and five pounds of bloating later, I got up at 8 am, which was really not good, because it made for long day of "A Baby Story", "I didn't know I was pregnant", and "Teen Mom", that I really just didn't need to subject myself to. I mean really, how could you not know you were pregnant. Geez. I got a call from the doctors office with the 24 hour fertilization report saying that they had some great news. Fifteen embryos had fertilized. Fifteen! Wow.....Could some be our babies? It was a wonderfully strange thought. I found myself being sad for the five that didn't make it, but the nurse said not all fifteen would make it to Sunday either which was why it was good we had so many. The nurse asked about whether I was in a lot of pain and I told her my symptoms. Tenderness in the abdomen, major bloating, major soreness. She said all of these were normal because they stuck me over 35 times (how many times did they stab Caesar?) and some were because of OHSS which will only get worse if I get pregnant. Apparently the only way to get rid of OHSS is to get your period or after the 8th week of pregnancy. Neither or good, but I would take the latter over the former. What's another 8 weeks of being uncomfortable? She said salty foods would help so I am eating as much as I can stomach, and hoping to get rid of as much fluid before Sunday. So the transfer is now planned for Sunday with bedrest for three days. Then comes the dreaded two week wait until we know if we are sucessful. Waiting? Again?!?!?! Seriously...

Yowza! - Egg retrieval and Jabba the Hut

So I am definitely feeling like somewhere between these two and have been since Saturday. I went to the doc every day this weekend and he measured and took blood everyday. Before my veins collapsed and ran in fear from the needles, my last estradiol (estrogen level) measured over 5,000. The nurse was looking at me like I should be in tears or having a hormonal meltdown, but I felt relatively good from all that. I am, however, so bloated that I am walking like I am already pregnant, and joked with the doctor that if I sneezed I felt like I would drop an ovary :). He didn't think it was as funny as I did, but hey, I gotta laugh at this point. The doc measured about 25 follicles and couldn't even get to all them they were so scrunched up in there. I am hoping it will be a great release to have all of them drained.

At this point, I am so ready to get the show on the road. I gave myself the "trigger" shot last night at 6:45pm so the egg retrieval will be tomorrow at 6:15am. They are afraid I will be overstimulated, which can make me pretty sick, so they told me to eat and drink as much sodium as I can to help with the fluid. After spending a lifetime trying to avoid high sodium foods, I was ignorant to which ones to look towards. I thought of pickles at lunchtime and had a guy I work with bring me back some. (He told the cafeteria person he was pregnant when she gave him a funny look after he ordered 10 pickles) And I might as well have an IV hookup of powerade as much as I am drinking. Hopefully enough salt ingested to scare away even the little Morton's girl with the yellow umbrella and any hope of OHSS. Praying all goes well tomorrow :)

Hopped up on Hormones

Before this whole IVF process, I probably couldn't tell you where on my body my ovary was. I mean, I knew, of course, that it was in the nether region, but that was pretty much it. It was enough knowing I had them. Who would have thought I would actually feel them, and boy do I.

I am completely hopped up on a large amount of hormones right now. I added two shots to the first shot and have been doing those since Saturday. The books and the doctors warned me about a plethura of side effects, but I think I am doing a pretty good job of holding on so far. my estrogen level went from 52 on Friday to 1757 as of this morning, the "normal" woman never gets above 200. The whole point of these hormones is to make me produce several eggs instead of the one we all normally produce every month. Well the ultrasound this morning said I had over 22 follicles (little sacs filled with fluid that hold the eggs). So despite feeling like a free range chicken with all these eggs, I am excited about that.

Doc says that everything looks great, but he is worried I might be overstimulated. Ya think?!?! If I truly am, it could make me very sick so he is backing down my meds. He had told Don that the most painful part of this process for him would be this time frame, because of my moods. I don't really feel all that different. I haven't gotten weepy or completely witchy yet...yet being the operative word :)

My Kindred Spirit in the Bible

I have always felt a kindred spirit with Sarah in the Bible. When I was little it was because we shared the same name and as I grew older I felt we had the same personality. Little did I know how very similar our lives would be. Sarah and I were both always getting ourselves into pickles that only God could sort out. Not many people know that in her first appearance in the Bible she had to pretend to be Abraham’s (her husband) sister so that the Pharoah would not kill Abraham and take her as his wife. Turns out, he took her anyway. God sent a plague to punish Pharoah and she got away. This happened not only with that guy, but also with Abimelech. God told him in a dream that she was really Abraham’s wife and he gave her back…with presents! First two pickles and God sorted it all out. Now to the story everyone knows as interpreted by me: There Sarah is 65 years old having lived a very eventful life being married to one of God’s good guys Abraham, or as I like to call him, Abe. She now has everything she ever dreamed of, beautiful house, great husband, but no kids. This presents a dilemma not because she wants them, but also because God had promised her husband that he himself would populate a whole nation. Well, after ten years, and being the control freak that she most certainly was, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She gave her husband her maid to sleep with so they could have a child. Wow….great thinking on her part. Well he did and the maid had a child. Sarah got really jealous and sent the maid with her son away. I can only imagine what ole Abe’s household was like during those days!

So years later, and I love how the Bible skips years so you can fill in the gaps in your head; I am thinking there were many a fight, many tears, many depressions in those years. I bet she even packed her stuff to leave a few times. I can’t wait to ask her when I meet her. Anyway, so by this time she is 90 and Abraham is polishing off a century, and I am sure she has completely given up on her dream. One day, three guys stopped by their house, and being the good hostess she was, she went in the kitchen to cook for them. Being a little nosy herself, she listened in on what the guys were discussing. I can picture her there with cornbread in the oven and her ear to the door. They actually told Abe that Sarah would conceive a child. She did exactly what I would have done in that situation: She burst into laughter, truly I Love Lucy style no doubt. They said in a year she would have a baby. Seriously! She was old and she had given up on all that. I mean honestly, was this just a ridiculous joke? But guess what…despite her doubt, and despite her mistrust in God’s promise, she had little Isaac a year later. Classic Sarah story, and by Sarah I mean me (hopefully).

Quiet before the storm...or storm before the quiet...

The appointment for the baseline was promised to be uneventful to make sure everything was “quiet” before we started. Quiet before the storm. Don needed to work that day so I told him I could go by myself. He had been there with me every appointment until then. Again, my doctor wasn’t there doctor that did our IUI (now known as the “bearer of bad news”) came in. She was chipper as a bird until she saw the cyst. Duh, Dum, Duh! There it was, a big fat 2 cm cyst of my right ovary, that I vaguely had remembered seeing when we did the IUI. Her face dropped, and it looked like she was about to cry. “What’s the big deal?” I thought. She apologized and whispered to the nurse about why my doc had not run a certain test. She turned around like she was about to tell me I had cancer and said we had to put off the cycle until we could figure out what it was. What do you mean what it was? It was nothing…right? They mumbled some more stuff about what it could be, I heard possible two week delay, more tests, possible drainage. They looked at me like I should burst into tears. I didn’t understand. They took some blood and said they would call me with instructions. When I got back to my car, I called Don and as soon as I heard his voice I did burst into tears. “I don’t understand what is wrong, why is this happening to us, why does this have to be so hard, why do we have to wait again….” , and down it went from there. Poor Don on the other line had no clue what hit him. I know he felt helpless, asking if he should come get me. After my pity party died down I told him I would be okay and that I was going to take the rest of the day off and shop to busy my mind. One foot in front of the other, Sarah, one foot in front of the other. Trust the doctors and trust God’s will.

So I went in that Wednesday with Don for yet another test, and for them to drain the cyst. The doctor and nurse tried to talk me out of it. Yes it would probably be best for the process, but it would be very painful. They would basically perform an egg retrieval without the anesthesia. I am tough, I thought, so if it was an option between the everloving waiting or pain, at this point, I would take the pain. They gave me a percoset to “take the edge off”, and proceeded to use an 18 gauge needle through my uterus into my ovary to suck out the juice. The needle was not nice, but I was okay until the fourth time he tried to draw back on the needle and I screamed. It felt like a knife severing my inside and sucking them out. It was probably the worst pain I have ever felt, even if it was for a minute. The worst of all is that he couldn’t get anything from it. Nuttin’ honey. He apologetically said it must be solid, like I knew what that meant. On the verge of tears I asked if this was bad or good. He said it was probably good……maybe…which, by now I realize, really means he has no idea.

After the whole cyst fiasco, they decided to start me on my “protocol” anyway. So I began the Lupron injections on a Sunday before church. Don got up with me and watched me do it. I know he really wanted to help. The injections are no big deal, and each day I mark off on the calendar of meds and count the days left until the action. That is where I am now. Waiting again… Tomorrow I am scheduled to have an ultrasound. I had a dream they did the ultra sound and the cyst took up the entire screen. I am hoping and praying it is gone altogether.

Needles, needles, and more needles

To start the IVF process, the doctor put me on birth control pills for a month. When the month was nearing an end, they called us in for our injection classes and to get our schedule. The first needle the nurse showed us was really no big deal. I had spent ten years of my life being poked and prodded with needles during my bout with rheumatoid arthritis and had grown accustomed to giving myself shots. The second and third needles were okay, but when she showed me the final needle I found it hard to swallow. I had never seen a needle so large, and when she informed me that I would have to have this shot for 10 weeks I face grew very pale. The needle was the size of a large paperclip, 22 gauge and Don would have to give it to me. That’s when I noticed Don was very pale too. The nurse brought in a ball for him to practice on, and once again I saw his hands shake. I thought then, that even though most of the IVF process would physically happen to me, it was affecting him too. After we left we would go back the next week to do a baseline ultrasound, one last check, before starting the injections.

The most painful part...

I am convinced that the worst and most painful part of IVF is the waiting. We waited to try after Don’s surgery, we waited six months to find out the results, we waited on our first appointment at the clinic, we waited to start the cycle of hormones for IUI, we waited for the result of the IUI, we waited for test results to see if we were IVF candidates, we waited for my cycle to be timed right to start the month of pills before we actually start IVF. I am now a confirmed believer that if you ask God for something, like a character building request, such as patience, you better get ready because he is going to give you something that will force you to learn it. I did pray for patience, and boy is He teaching it to me. I prayed for a deeper commitment and closeness to Don, and boy is he teaching it to me. I asked for a baby, and I am learning just how bad I want it. This process will tear you down or bring you closer to each other and to God. It is our decision and although we have struggled, I think it has deepened our love for each other, and it is helping me with the fact that I cannot control everything.

Adoption with IVF...Who knew?

This is tough to hold onto when you are in the middle of it all. There are so many ups and downs. You go through a test and you hold your breath to find out the result. You have to make so many life decisions. We spent an hour in the little back room of our fertility clinic trying to sign paperwork that says what we will do with the leftover embryos if both of us die. These are decisions, I am convinced, that no one is ever equipped to make. Believing that God is the creator of life, and believing that those little embryos, if given a chance to grow, would become human beings, there was no possible way I could sign anything that could give them to science or let them die in a lab. We discovered after talking with our doctor that this is what all of his patients have done. I suppose in one’s own mind you can make the case that they are not little humans, but to me, and I realize this is just me, they are. God holds the keys to life, and if blessed with the opportunity, who am I to say they should not be born. This is the major medical dilemma for Christians going through IVF. And while I will never condemn those that feel differently, I could not do it even if it meant donating them to another couple. This is a scary thought too. If we donated them it would be just like an adoption. We would have a biological child somewhere in the world that we did not know, that could even exist after we are both gone. These strange science fiction type thoughts are real to us now. Would the other parents love our children? Could they afford them? Would they have a good life? We could never know these things. I thought of how I would feel if I could not conceive my own child but was giving the opportunity to carry one. What a gift that could be to someone. I thought of how this would only be a small glimpse of what a birth mother would feel if they were put into position of loving their child so much to give them an opportunity. I can’t imagine the love that comes from adoption. When we told our doctor this is what we chose, to not destroy any of our left over embryo’s, that we would donate them to give them a chance at life even if we could not have them ourselves, he told us we were the only couple in his past 15 years of experience that chose this option. I was amazed and a little sad at that fact.

Turning Point

And then one day, on the way home from work, I talked to God like I used to. I poured my heart out to Him about how I was sorry for failing him in the past, and how I didn’t even know how to ask for what I wanted. So instead of asking him to give me child, I asked him to help me be okay with whatever His will for my life was. I haven’t always sought that, obviously, I have made a lot of mistakes on my own and taken a course He never laid out for me. But I have always believed that he forgave us and that he could bless the mess I have made if, and only if, I surrendered it to him. That was the only way we were going to make it. How then, was I going to reconcile everything I had to do for IVF with just surrendering everything to Him. The answer was clear. All I could do is put one foot in front of the other. Trust the doctors, trust God’s will.

In the medical fertility world all they ever can do is give you a chance. You can get completely overwhelmed with all the statistics if you let yourself. A normal couple has a 20% chance to conceive in any given month. We had less than 5%. For the IUI, we had less than 1%. With IVF you could have 60%. Of course this all depends on your age, your issue, your husband’s issue, and possibly your shoe size. There are tables and charts everywhere that tell you no more than this simple fact - you have a chance it will work, but you also have a chance it won’t. Does it really matter, because in the end, it either works or it doesn’t. So it donned on me that day in the car on my way home from work, that the reason why it would never be 100% is because of God’s will. Medicine and science can only take us so far in the ability to conceive. The creation of life is purely and solely up to God, whether you try to do it in a lab or not. When a life begins it is so beautifully and wonderfully made that only a God like my God can do it. I will go only as far as I can go, but God has to take me the rest of the way. So trying IVF is saying I gave it all I could and it just wasn’t in the cards for us, it isn’t the path God wants for us. I decided either way I was going to have to live my life and be happy for the blessings that I have.

Low Point

We decided to see a reproductive endocrinologist. They ran test after test on us, and decided the lack of sperm was our only issue. We decided to go with the last natural choice for us which was Intrauterine Insemination. I took hormones and tests to make sure I ovulated and waited for phone calls to come in. When we went in for the procedure we were so excited. I had pushed all my negative thinking to the back burner and was feeling pretty positive. The doctor came in to perform the procedure and it wasn’t our doctor. When I asked what she thought, she told us we were wasting our time that with that small of a sample it was near impossible. I thought we would both cry. We did the procedure, and it failed.

The strain of all of this was taking a toll on us. We talked ad nauseum about our options: Would we adopt? Would we try IVF? Don started to question if it was meant to be for us. Maybe this was God’s way of saying we weren’t supposed to have children. I could see the burden he carried on his face. If we adopted could we both love that child as our own? We definitely could. Could I live without knowing that we didn’t try everything to have one of our own? Maybe. Could we afford either? Probably but not without sacrifices. We looked at finances and options until we couldn’t talk about it anymore. Meanwhile the ticking of both our clocks got louder and louder. We stopped having fun. We stopped making love because we wanted to and started doing it when the test strip said to. I stopped praying and started trying to control what I could not. I was broken without a plan.

We made a plan to save for IVF, and that week, my truck engine blew up. In addition to the $12,000 it would cost us to go through IVF, it was going to take $6500 to fix my vehicle. This on top of everything. I was reaching my limit with what I could stand. Why was this happening to us? Was I being punished? Was God telling me, like he did Moses, that I would not enter the promise land because of my past sins? Would he give me everything I ever wanted EXCEPT this? And by the way, why did I feel like I even deserved it? I sank lower and lower.

First Steps

A month after we got married, Don had the surgery. It was a big decision and a big step for us. It really showed me how committed he was to our family. I will always remember sitting in the car in the CVS Pharmacy parking lot in an unfamiliar town in North Carolina after filling his prescriptions for the anesthesia. It was so many pills all at once, and he was scared. My heart broke when he looked at me and said, “How will I ever wake up after taking all this?”. This man, that I had never known to be scared of anything in his whole life; this man that had lost both of his parents and raised his little sister, was shaking as he took all those pills. It is strange that the moments you look back on and remember feeling a deep, deep love for someone aren’t the obvious ones. But he did it, and he did it for us and for our family. We anxiously waited six months for the result of the surgery, although we secretly hoped we would be like the stories that we heard of couples getting pregnant two weeks after the surgery even though you were really supposed to wait a month before you tried. A month after the surgery we went on our honeymoon to the Biltmore House. To this day, it was the best weekend of my life. We knew the time could be right and it was our first month of trying and we were both so excited about our new life together and the new possibilities. We tried for six months after that with no avail. My life became about testing for ovulation and testing for pregnancy. There was no telling how much money we spent on those kits. But we were so hopeful and so ready. When nothing happened in those six months, the doctor told us to do a test to see how the surgery went. The test results proved the surgery was a success, but the numbers were so low it may the possibility of conceiving almost impossible. They told us to wait another 3 months and test again that it could improve. It didn’t.

Here and Now

Soon after we got married, my Papa Dude passed away. My grandparents had been married for 62 years, and I was there the night he died with my grandma laying beside him telling him it was okay for him to go. It was the most beautiful and the saddest thing I had ever experienced. He was her best friend, her life. They had the perfect love and marriage. They had been through everything together, even the death of their last child. After he died, I became very upset not just with his death, but because it really showed the reality of my own marriage. Yes my motto was to live for today, but by forcing myself to believe that I never thought of how my own life would be without Don. I became overwhelmed with the thought of losing him. The thought that if we both lived very full and long lives, I would live about 20 years of my life without him haunted me. This thought was unbearable when I would see my grandma, who still to this day begs for her time on earth to be over because she misses him so much. I remember reading a book called “The Time Traveler’s Wife”. It was a beautiful book about a time traveler that falls in love with one woman throughout his life. Because he is a time traveler he ends up falling in love with her at all different ages. He couldn’t control when he time traveled, so he never could control when he left her or when he would see her again. When I read this book I felt the desperation that they felt not knowing how long they had together. I remember when I finished the book I was in the back yard of our new house on a blanket with Don and I cried while he held me. And the more he held me, the more I cried. How could I live without him? In the book, the woman’s sole comfort was the child that they had together. When she looked at her, she saw him and could feel his prescence. The child was a piece of him, the culmination of their love for each other, even after he was gone. The more and more I thought of this, the more and more I longed for child of our own. After a while, I realized it was definitely not healthy or beneficial to focus on the negative aspects of our situation, besides, we knew all this going into it. There was a quote in the book that really struck a cord with me, and I often think about it.

"What is it? My dear?"

"Ah, how can we bear it?"

"Bear what?" "This. For so short a time. How can we sleep this time away?"

"We can be quiet together, and pretend – since it is only the beginning - that we have all the time in the world."

"And every day we shall have less. And then none."

"Would you rather, therefore, have had nothing at all?"

"No. This is where I have always been coming to. Since my time began. And when I go away from here, this will be the mid-point, to which everything ran, before, and from which everything will run. But now, my love, we are here, we are now, and those other times are running elsewhere."– A.S. Byatt, Possession

This now has become my theme for us, and I have tried to focus on the here and now. I have failed miserable at this at times. There are times when I think we will never have a family, something will happen to him and I will be left here alone. I am sure everyone thinks of that at some point.

How we got here

Today is the first day I can write about what we are going through. I think it is because I feel a peace and presence about it now. Going through IVF is probably the toughest thing I have ever done, and I can see how most people lose their minds in the process. I have almost lost mine a few times so far. Our journey to this place started before Don and I even began to date. I had always wanted to be a mother, and I felt like if there was ever a purpose for me on this planet, it was to do just that. I never even questioned whether or not it would happen. I guess that is why, even when I started to have feelings for Don knowing he could no longer physically conceive a child without surgery, it didn’t scare me. Before we started to date we had long conversations about what I wanted in my life, and that I could not even begin to think about starting a life with someone who didn’t think they wanted the same thing. Of course, in the beginning, it is easy to make that decision. When you fall in love, everything is rosy, everything is easy, and at that point in my life, I was ready for something to be easy. So, at the time, it was easy for Don to say he envisioned himself as a father again, considering the situation was just right. And I accepted that because if the situation wasn’t right, we wouldn’t be together. Things became a lot more clear and upfront when it came time to decide to get married. I was so completely in love with him, but no children was a deal breaker. At the same time, I wanted him to want them and to not just want them because I did. We had lots and lots of discussions. When reality set it, we both had concerns. Don was worried, and it was compounded by issues with his boys. When his boys were small he worked away from home and because of that he missed a lot of things. He carries that guilt with him to this day. How could he be at such a better place in his life, and give another child such devotion when he feels like he failed his own? I could feel his hurt for this. He also worried about his age. At the time he was 47 and did the math on every major event of a child’s life. He would be 67 when the child was 20. Would the child be embarrassed about this? Feel completely jipted for having an older father? And although I could not answer these things for him, I could remind him of how we made the decision to be together despite our age difference. We loved each other, and we both knew from experience that we are never promised tomorrow. Could we walk away from a love deeper than we had ever experienced on this earth because of our age? Could we say that same thing in the case of a child? We never know what life is going to throw at us and all we can go on is what we know. Don could be a better father now than he ever was at 30. I think a child would be blessed to have a Dad that has learned those lessons. We have a beautiful home and love all around us to share with a family. These things are the things that we know. How long we have on this earth is something no one knows. We have this moment. We have now.

To be a mother....

Ever since I can remember, I felt my purpose on this earth was to be a mother. I first became a mom at the ripe age of six. Baby Heather was my daughter’s name. She moved, talked, and cried. She had to be rocked to sleep and fed with a bottle, it was even necessary to burp her. Amazing what a little robot baby required. I loved doing it all, and I took her everywhere. And I am willing to bet, if you asked Baby Heather I was a good mom (until I outgrew her). I never really thought I would have a problem becoming a mother, it always seemed pretty easy to me. So much energy and dollars are spent to prevent it from happening at an inopportune moment, I just assumed if I ever stopped trying to prevent it, it would magically and wonderfully happen. Life had such a different journey for me. I have always been the type of woman that had to find her own way. You know, make my own mistakes; learn my own lessons. It seems I must enjoy taking the hard and winding road rather than the easy yellow brick one, but never the less, I have… In life, I have always wondered about those that say that they have no regrets. I find myself at odds with that. In the words of the Avett Brothers: "I made decisions some right and some wrong, And I let some love go I wish wasn't gone These things and more I wish I had not done But I can't go back, And I don't want to 'Cause all my mistakes. They brought me to you. I have made some mistakes, broken some promises, hurt people I did not want to hurt. And I do regret those things. But in the end, all those things brought me here to the person I am today. They have taught me lessons I would have never learned, and they brought me back to my two truest loves – God and my husband. So in a way, I would not change them. I love what Maya Angelou says “When we know better, we do better,” and that is how I have decided to move forward in my life.

New Directions

Wow...it has been so long since my last post, and my life has changed directions yet again. Its funny when I go back and read how obsessed I was with the weight, while it was a very good thing that I lost all that weight, it really wasn't healthy for me to be so focused on one thing like that. But that is the way I am, must have something to focus on until I beat it entirely in the ground... Well, the weight loss seems rather insignificant to the new focus in my life. For those of you that read my blog for that purpose: yes the diet worked, I felt great, I gained some back, and will do it again in the future, I just won't let it consume me like it did back then. I finished one of my last blogs talking about my new adventure...having a baby. And while it hasn't been the fun filled adventure I thought it would be, it has been just that so far. I fought with myself on whether or not to blog about what I am going through, specifically if it ends badly, but all in all its therapeutic for me if nothing else, and if it helps one person going through the same thing, why wouldn't I share it? SO...here's to me losing it again....through IVF.