Broken Relief

I'm not even sure where to start with this one. 

 

That's the thing about keeping things quiet...a secret.

When it's time for the truth to come out, you just don't know where to start.

 

So, let me back pedal for a minute.

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There are stories about 'Rainbow Babies' and research showing that often, you're more likely to get pregnant the month following a miscarriage. 
(Now, obviously, that depends on a lot of factors...your health, how far along you were, etc.)

 

So, when early January rolled around and my monthly visitor showed up right on time...even after an 8 week miscarriage, Paul and I hit the ground running again.

 

I'm not exaggerating.

 

When doing a Frozen Embryo Transfer, you start on estrogen on Day 1 of your cycle.

 

We went from "Who knows when we're going to try again?!" to fully committed to a January transfer in about 2 hours.

 

The doctor gave his blessing to try so soon and I had leftover medication and that was that.

 

I woke up on January 4th with no clue when our next step would be and by the end of the day had our transfer scheduled.

 

I've told you before, we're either all in or all out.

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We made the decision to not let too many people in on this information.

One of my sisters knew (because she knows everything anyway), a handful of women at work (who are so great about checking in with me and I CANNOT lie) knew, and the biological mom of the embryos knew (and of course, Jenn & her mom from the Race knew because we needed our race funds!).

 

Considering I have been so incredibly open with our story, this secret story line was difficult for me.

But, it was so needed.

 

I needed to almost forget this transfer was happening. I needed to pretend that it didn't have absolutely everything about our future riding on it. I needed to not have a bunch of different folks bringing it up.  I needed to not drag my family and close friends through the agony of yet another two week wait.

 

And, I know those of you that pray for us, are always praying for us.

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On Friday, January 22nd, Paul and I made our way to VA IVF.

Our appointment time had gotten bumped up because of the impending snow and we arrived at the clinic shortly after 10:00 am. It was just beginning to flurry on our drive in and it filled me with such a peace. I LOVE when the snow starts to fall.

 

We were all checked in and actually sitting in a room when the doc called my cell to tell me one of the two embryos we thawed did not survive. We asked for two more to be thawed and we waited patiently.  Around 11:35 the doc showed up and told us we had two good looking blasts ready for transfer, but unfortunately the second one in the second set did not survive the thaw either.

 

This means we have four of our adopted embryos left.

 

We were home by 12:15 and we snuggled in for a long, snowy weekend.

 

Remember how frozen embryos are referred to as snowflakes?

The beauty of millions of falling snowflakes was just so...calming.

 

And thus began our wait.

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I have the same dilemma every single transfer about when to take a home pregnancy test. 

I usually give myself a target date and then randomly on an adrenaline induced whim, take one early.

 

And, that's exactly what happened.

 

My first bloodwork beta was scheduled for Monday, Feb. 1st, so I gave myself the goal of making it to Sunday morning. 

But, Friday, after work, that adrenaline kicked in and I caved.

 

Two beautiful pink lines showed up.

I knew they would. I had felt the implantation happening.

 

But, unlike the last time, when I had some random early pregnancy symptoms, this time, I had nothing.

 

When Sunday morning rolled around, my test was stark white.  I couldn't have imagined a second line there if I wanted to. And trust me, I tried.

I took a second test just to be sure the first wasn't a dud...and yep...still stark white.

 

I was SHOCKED when my beta test on Monday came back positive.

I've had a positive home pregnancy test before and my beta had been at an 8.

So, when the nurse told me my beta was 23, I was really, really surprised.

Honestly, though, I was more annoyed that I had to stay on my medication regimen, when I knew in my heart how this story was going to unfold.

 

Today's bloodwork confirmed a dropping beta...21.

 

And so it shall be.

 

My fifth positive pregnancy test.

My fourth chemical pregnancy.

 

And it's officially over.

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And all I feel is broken relief beyond measure.

 

This weight of will I/won't I ever carry a successful pregnancy is finally over.

 

Relief.

 

I will never, ever feel a baby kick in my womb.

 

Broken.

 

We can move onto our next phase.

 

Relief.

 

Officially saying goodbye to the one dream I have had all my life...carrying a baby.

 

Broken.

 

I'll never accidentally pee myself when I sneeze.

 

Relief

(Come on, I HAVE to find the humor in this and all the mom's I know say that happens!)

 

Our eight year journey continues and throws us for another curve ball.

 

Broken.

 

So the cycle continues.

 

Broken, Relief, Broken, Relief.

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And I just keep telling myself.

 

There will be beauty from the ashes.