Part 3: The Results

This is Part 3 of a series of posts telling the journey to our third little miracle baby.

Part 4 will be published soon. Click the links to read Part 1 and Part 2. 

Fear and Faith

Monday morning, three days after my transfer, I woke up to find that I was spotting.

My heart sank. I was so scared.

I immediately prayed. As I was getting the twins up, I didn't know what to think. I almost felt like I was in shock and was putting that energy into doing all sorts of random chores. It wasn't bad, but of course I was really worried about what it meant. I had heard of implantation bleeding before, but fear of the worst came over me. I prayed, Chris prayed, and for a while it stopped and then started again. Part of me was saying that this was it, "game over." The other part of me was hoping that maybe this was a sign that this would work, that our little embryo implanted and I was experiencing implantation bleeding. I never bled when I got pregnant with the twins, but apparently it does occur in about 1 in 3 pregnancies. My nurse at the fertility clinic said it was probably just implantation bleeding and that I should take it easy.

There were many things pointing to this being a great sign, but I was still so scared. I stopped bleeding two days later, but late that night my mind wouldn't stop trying to figure out what all this meant. I prayed for peace and comfort until I was asleep. When I woke up the next morning I felt different. I was happy and hopeful again. And when I was alone, I didn't feel alone. Throughout this entire transfer process, every time I have sought after the Lord in faith I have felt His comfort and my fears were cast away.

The Results

One week later I had my blood test to see if I was pregnant. Fortunately Chris got to be with me and we spent the rest of the day together as a family. I hadn't decided how I wanted to receive the news, so I just left my phone in the other room. I ended up missing the call with the blood results at about 3:00pm. I checked my phone shortly after and noticed I had a voicemail from the clinic. I started to tremble a bit because I was so nervous. Chris and I decided to go for a drive and listen to the voicemail together. We ended up at the Oquirrh Mountain Temple. The air felt heavy as Chris pressed play. I'll add that before our drive began I had feelings of rejoicing, feelings of love. I didn't know what it meant but I embraced it. The moment the message started to playback I knew.

The only word I can remember is "Negative".

I wasn't pregnant.

It felt like a minute passed before I could breathe. Then came the sobs for what felt like hours. It was one of the most painful cries I have experienced. I was crushed. In situations like this it is so common to start asking God, "Why?" But this time was different. Even though my heart was so heavy, so broken, I prayed to my Heavenly Father. I thanked Him for the opportunity, thanked Him that I had a chance to give this embryo a home even though it was much too short. I thanked Him for Boston and Lyla. I pleaded with Him asking what I'm supposed to learn from this and what I'm supposed to do next. I then remembered what Chris had said in a blessing he gave me a couple weeks prior. In the blessing I was told to keep my head up. So that's what I did. With tears streaming down my face I held my head up and tried to focus on what I needed to do for my family, but I was unable to speak for 4 long hours.

At one point when the twins woke up from their nap I went in to get them, but the moment I saw them it just set me off. I fell to my knees in tears. I am so thankful for them. So thankful for their perfect little bodies and the chance I have to be their mother. With my hands on their cribs, Boston reached out and rested his hand on top of mine and Lyla gave me a smile. They are such precious gifts.

I feel so bad that Chris married a woman that has a hard time conceiving, even when all the conditions are almost perfectly controlled. He came to me wanting to add to our family. He wanted this so much. I wanted it too. You never know how much you want - no, need - something until you can't have it.

I'm fighting that urge. That horrible urge to give up. To sleep all day and not eat. My body wants to but my spirit is saying don't give up. Take care of your family. Hold your head up.
With my failed IUIs I would always pick myself up and try again. I've already said I never want to do IVF again. It is expensive and so stressful, emotionally and physically. And I can't deal with the thought of more frozen embryos waiting for a home - however temporary it may be. Though I held this embryo in my body for only a short time, I carried it in my heart for so much longer. The loss is devastating.

After I got pregnant with the twins I felt invincible against infertility. Like I couldn't be stopped again. I really thought this was going to work. We had so many answers to our prayers. It felt so right. I knew exactly how I was going to announce the pregnancy to everyone. I could imagine watching Boston and Lyla play while I held a newborn baby in my arms. I would think about our family of five. But the truth is, I still suffer from infertility. Before we started treatment I was terrified this wasn't going to work. Now I am terrified that because the transfer did not work that I won't be able to have more. I am terrified that I am done.

To those that have experienced miscarriages and still births...my heart aches for you. I cannot imagine your pain, your broken heart, your emptiness. I saw my embryo before it was carefully placed inside me. I have a picture of him or her. I don't know if it implanted or not. I'm almost sure I experienced implantation bleeding but it must have stopped developing after it implanted. I didn't experience a positive pregnancy test or hear a heartbeat and then lose the baby like so many have. I only know the pain and sorrow from knowing there was a precious living embryo inside me that didn't grow. To those that had a baby growing inside them but lost it, I am so sorry. I only know a fraction of your pain and it is some of the worst pain I've experienced.

I am mourning the loss of my embryo. The loss of the idea of a third child. The loss of a growing family. Of the defeat of infertility. And the despair of not knowing what to do next, that my call to motherhood begins and ends with Boston and Lyla. I don't want to be done, but I am so afraid I am.

Until I can pick myself up, that's all I have words to say.

The journey continues. Click here for Part 4.

Part 2: The Transfer

This is Part 2 of a series of posts telling the journey to our third little miracle baby. 

Part 3 will be published soon. Click here to read Part 1. 

Our frozen transfer is one week away. This treatment cycle has flown by! Last Monday I had my suppression check, which was an ultrasound and some blood work to confirm that I have no cysts and that I have low estradiol levels. I started taking baby aspirin to help blood flow to the uterus, and 3mg of estradiol three times a day. The main side effect from the estradiol that I can tell is bloat and a very small appetite. It's been so nice not having to give myself shots! The following Friday I had my SSG (saline sonogram). It really wasn't bad. They insert a catheter and fill your uterus will saline while doing a 3D ultrasound to make sure there are no uterine abnormalities. I felt like I kept peeing my pants for sometime after while remaining saline leaked out...awkward. Everything looked good, which was great!

We've been doing this completely privately again. The only ones aware of this transfer is our doctor, me, Chris, and God. I don't feel the need to tell friends and family only to have them come asking...honestly if I do get pregnant I plan on not telling anyone for as long as I can. I would wait to 20 weeks if I could. 

At the beginning of this treatment I would have bouts of doubt. All the questions would start to fill my mind. What do we do if this doesn't work? Will we ever have more kids? Why would God not want this to happen? Through many tearful prayers to my Father in Heaven I have seen this doubt fade away and be replaced with something much more powerful. My doubt has been replaced with faith. Not faith that I will get pregnant and that we'll all live happily ever after. Faith in God's will. That kind of faith is hard to obtain when we have our own desires in the way. I'm learning that if we truly desire and accept God's will, we will be okay with whatever the outcome. Yes I want to get pregnant. Yes I want this to work. Yes I hope that this is God's will. But if it's not I understand that He has some other plan for me. Everything will work out. I am comforted in that knowledge as I place full trust in Him. 

Fast forward one week to the transfer...

A few days before the transfer I had a routine ultrasound check, but was given that bad news that there was fluid in my uterus. If the fluid wasn't gone by transfer day they would not transfer our embryo. I was given some medication to help get rid of the fluid, but there was nothing else that could be done. A few days later was the big day! I had a difficult time sleeping the night before due to my anxiousness. Eventually the morning came and it was time to leave. We kissed the twins goodbye and left them in Grandma's care. Chris had asked her to watch the twins telling her that he took the day off work to pamper me and have a night alone at a hotel. I guess you could say that lounging around a hotel room all day was being "pampered" since that is what we did after the transfer.

Before we went into the clinic we each took a turn to pray. I remember writing that when we did IVF in 2014 that it was a spiritual experience for me, as if I was being watched over and carried through the entire stressful process. But this time...it's been like my eyes have opened to a whole new understanding of God. Of His love. Of faith. It has been a transformation in my life. If this transfer doesn't work I am at least so thankful for this unparalleled spiritual experienced I have witnessed in my life. Sitting in the car we prayed. We prayed that the fluid from my uterus would be gone without a trace. We prayed that our embryo would survive the thaw and that the transfer would be smoothly. We prayed for the nurses, doctors, and embryologists that have helped us in this journey.

As the ultrasound of my uterus began, I took a deep breath and held onto Chris's hand. I've had enough ultrasounds to have a good understanding of what I'm looking at. I didn't see anything. No dark spot in my uterus showing fluid. It was completely gone. Without a trace. Our first miracle for the day. With the good news, we were given the all clear to do the embryo transfer that day. I was also told to start drinking. Water that is! It helps straighten the uterus so the catheter containing our embryo will go in smoother.

It takes an hour for the embryo to thaw, so we left and walked around a nearby Hobby Lobby. Chris loves that place! We explored while I chugged a few bottles of water. When we returned we waited in a room to sign some consents and hear an update on the embryo. For a while I was pretty scared a nurse was going to walk in and say the embryo didn't survive. But...it did! Our second miracle for the day. They offered me valium for relaxation, which I almost turned down since I turned it down when we transferred the twins. I was afraid it was going to make me too loopy to know what was going on, but it didn't hit me until after we left. We got changed and went into the OR, met with the embryologist who gave us a picture of our embryo, and then my doctor came in and it was go time. It's a pretty simple procedure, but there is so much that needs to be done leading up to it. We could see on the ultrasound this teeny tiny little embryo placed up inside my uterus. Our third miracle for the day! The embryologist did what's called Assisted Hatching, where he made a small hole in the zona pellucida to help the embryo hatch out of its outer shell and help with implantation in the uterine wall. You can see the hole at about 3 o'clock of the picture below.

Isn't that amazing? Boston and Lyla's first picture looked like this. Such a tiny bunch of cells has so much potential. Can you believe that you once looked like this?

After the transfer I eventually conked out in the car from the valium. When I took valium for my HSG in 2013, I was a total nut case and obviously drugged. This time I just slept for a little while. We checked into our hotel room, and I relaxed and watched some funny shows. It was nice to get away and just focus on taking it easy and letting my body do its thing. I missed my babies so much though. After breakfast in the morning we when straight home to squeeze them.

Since transfer day it's been pretty surreal thinking of the embryo I have inside me, just always hoping that this may be our next child. While the twins nap I go sit on my bed and ponder about my family, the great blessings we've received, and the chance we've given this embryo. There is a constant prayer in my heart that everything will work out the way we have hoped and prayed. At this point I am what you call 3 weeks pregnant, until proven otherwise. That is because pregnancy is measured from the first day of your last period. By now, the embryo should have implanted and I am praying it has. I know there is a science to everything, but I also believe that God's hand can control that science. I believe that God can make anything possible. I know because of Him we had several miracles: the fluid was gone, the embryo survived the thaw, and the transfer was flawless. I know that if it is His will, He will bless us with a fourth miracle in this process...a baby.

Click here to read Part 3 

Part 1: Our Little Embryo

This is Part 1 of a series of posts telling the journey to our third little miracle baby. 

Click here to read Part 2. 

We have a frozen embryo. A beautiful "good +" blastocyst just waiting to be given a chance. When we froze it I never thought I would feel so attached.

Boston and Lyla were embryos (as everyone once was). We saw them. We have a picture. Just a bunch of cells that ended up turning into the greatest blessing we have ever received. Fully knowing an embryo's potential is what has made me so attached to the one frozen embryo we have. I am so thankful that we were able to save at least one. But I feel so bad...I feel so bad this embryo, this beginning of life, is stuck. Frozen in time. Waiting.

I truly feel a connection, like there is a perfect spirit waiting in heaven to be united with a body. A body that begins with an embryo. Our embryo.

Chris was the one that actually approached me about transferring our embryo. We want our kids to be close in age. We prayed and it just made sense. So we set up an appointment with my reproductive endocrinologist to get an idea of what a frozen embryo transfer would be like and how we need to start preparing. If Chris had his way, we would have started treatment the next day, but instead we chose a date two months later.

To be honest I'm terrified. Terrified that this embryo is our last chance. Terrified that it won't make it through the thaw. Terrified I won't get pregnant. Terrified that I won't have more children. But I know that hope is where comfort is found and hope is where miracles begin.

Fast forward one month later...

It's all happening again. The stress that comes with being infertile. The stress that comes with money and trying to work with insurance. The stress that comes with the medications. The stress of wondering if you'll have more kids. Am I being selfish? Is it selfish that I have two beautiful twins and I want more? Being a mom is everything to me. I love it.

Because I'm writing a more condensed version of this story, I'll just say we ran into a lot of problems with insurance. My fertility clinic was no longer covered and we had received no warning. With treatment already started, I was extremely stressed out. One option was to cancel the treatment, transport our embryo to a different fertility clinic that our insurance recognized and start over. I really didn't want to do that. A lot of tears were shed that day.

Long story short, we worked some things out, decided to continue my treatment and stay at my clinic. I'm so glad we were able to. Things always tend to work out, don't they?

         

Click here to read Part 2