My uterus is the place where healthy, viable embryos go to die. There's no other explanation. It really is the only explanation, and honestly, it's what I have to believe or I will think that there's something more I can do, something else I can try, when really I have to believe that I've done all I can and it's time to move on.
The finality of that is frightening, because it makes me wonder if it will ever really happen.
I have to move on to plan B. And I will have to get my head wrapped around the fact that I won't ever be pregnant. I won't ever feel a life move inside of me. I won't ever experience the look that other people give a pregnant woman. I won't hear that there's a glow about me. Or that I'm carrying low (or high). Or that I'm breaking out because I'm having a girl and she's stealing my beauty.
I won't experience labor or delivery. And almost certainly, I will not hear the first sounds my baby ever makes.
I pulled pregnancy books off my shelf last night and piled them at the top of the stairs, not sure what to actually do with them. I have bins of maternity clothes to return to my niece, including some that have been bought specifically for me, just in case. And I have a $50 Motherhood Maternity gift card to do something with.
When I started this process with the egg donor, I went in thinking I would have at least three chances. Given the number of embryos they had previously extracted from Ginger, I thought the odds were in my favor. Even when I heard that there were (only) six embryos, I thought that I would have two chances.
Over the past nine days, I tried not to think about what FG had said about the remaining embryos when I asked if we were freezing those. I tried not to think about "if they're viable."
And so after 13 tries, it really is over. And it's time to move onto Plan B. Whatever that is. However that looks.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
The Waiting Game
I feel at peace tonight. Or maybe I'm just trying to convince myself that I am at peace. Either way, it's going to be a long night.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
And now the terror sets in
Okay, maybe terror is a little strong.
But with still some waiting time before my blood test, I'm starting to get scared. What will I do if it's negative? I don't know if they were able to freeze the other three embryos. And I kind of don't want to know until after the test. No need to add one more thing to my list of bad thoughts if they weren't.
Luckily I have an afternoon full of meetings today and through to blood test day. Hopefully that will keep my mind from wandering too far down a dark road.
But with still some waiting time before my blood test, I'm starting to get scared. What will I do if it's negative? I don't know if they were able to freeze the other three embryos. And I kind of don't want to know until after the test. No need to add one more thing to my list of bad thoughts if they weren't.
Luckily I have an afternoon full of meetings today and through to blood test day. Hopefully that will keep my mind from wandering too far down a dark road.
Seems Fishy
My sister-in-law told me this morning that when you dream of fish, you're pregnant. It happened to her before she knew she was pregnant with Tiff, and it happened to a friend of hers.
I did a quick google search. And while there were many who wrote this off as an old wives' tale, completely false, there were others who were convinced:
The "fish dream" happens to me when i concieve... u?
im convinced that dreaming of fish is in fact a way to know if someone is pregnant...
everytime ive been preggers i always got the fish dream right around the time i concieved (only been preggers 2 times) but each time i had a weird dream about fish.... and its the only time i dream of fish
yes every time Ive conceived ive had dreams of fish or relatives would have those same dreams. I had a dream about fish and found out my cousin was pregnant, then my sister had a similar dream and found out that i was so that's weird but SO true. works every time.
So either, I am, as my "dream" told me the other night, or it's merely that I know someone who is pregnant. And if you're someone who is trying to get pregnant, it's not hard to know someone who is pregnant. The world seems full of pregnant women.
I did a quick google search. And while there were many who wrote this off as an old wives' tale, completely false, there were others who were convinced:
The "fish dream" happens to me when i concieve... u?
im convinced that dreaming of fish is in fact a way to know if someone is pregnant...
everytime ive been preggers i always got the fish dream right around the time i concieved (only been preggers 2 times) but each time i had a weird dream about fish.... and its the only time i dream of fish
yes every time Ive conceived ive had dreams of fish or relatives would have those same dreams. I had a dream about fish and found out my cousin was pregnant, then my sister had a similar dream and found out that i was so that's weird but SO true. works every time.
So either, I am, as my "dream" told me the other night, or it's merely that I know someone who is pregnant. And if you're someone who is trying to get pregnant, it's not hard to know someone who is pregnant. The world seems full of pregnant women.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
I'm Pregnant, So Say the Signs
I am. It's five days until my blood test, but I am. I know it.
I had a hard time sleeping Friday night, was flipping through the channels, watching things I wouldn't normally watch. And then finally fell back asleep two hours later, about 5:30am (Saturday morning).
And then I felt what I can only describe as the sensation of someone running their finger down my back. Slowly, but from inside of me. It happened four or five times. And in my mind, I could see a fish.
A little background. Two weeks ago, my sister-in-law's sister passed away from brain cancer. She loved to fish. Debbie has seen "signs" from her sister in random things -- a rainbow and the shape of a fish from the sun hitting my niece's cell phone in the car.
I had this in my mind Friday night. I was thinking about the upcoming Relay for Life, and how I would draw a fish with a rainbow on it for the little bag for the candles they line the race track with that I would buy in honor of Denise.
Back to the wee hours of Saturday morning. I knew it was Denise. I don't know why she would come to me, but she did. And I asked her if I was pregnant. And suddenly, my entire body was awash with warmth.
(This happened to me once before. In 1994, after my grandmother died. I missed her so much. And one night, she came to me. And I felt that warmth over my entire body.)
And so for whatever reason -- because Debbie needs something good to happen, and she's been wishing, and hoping and praying right along with me these past three years for a pregnancy to take or because maybe the most recent person you know who has died suddenly becomes your guardian angel when needed. For whatever reason, Denise came to me that night. And I felt her warmth when I asked her if I was pregnant.
And so now, after having a few days to think about it, and talking to one of my other Catholic friends, I only describe what I'm feeling not as a crisis of faith, more like a crisis of faith in myself. Do I believe in myself enough to trust what I experienced? To believe what I believe it meant?
I had a hard time sleeping Friday night, was flipping through the channels, watching things I wouldn't normally watch. And then finally fell back asleep two hours later, about 5:30am (Saturday morning).
And then I felt what I can only describe as the sensation of someone running their finger down my back. Slowly, but from inside of me. It happened four or five times. And in my mind, I could see a fish.
A little background. Two weeks ago, my sister-in-law's sister passed away from brain cancer. She loved to fish. Debbie has seen "signs" from her sister in random things -- a rainbow and the shape of a fish from the sun hitting my niece's cell phone in the car.
I had this in my mind Friday night. I was thinking about the upcoming Relay for Life, and how I would draw a fish with a rainbow on it for the little bag for the candles they line the race track with that I would buy in honor of Denise.
Back to the wee hours of Saturday morning. I knew it was Denise. I don't know why she would come to me, but she did. And I asked her if I was pregnant. And suddenly, my entire body was awash with warmth.
(This happened to me once before. In 1994, after my grandmother died. I missed her so much. And one night, she came to me. And I felt that warmth over my entire body.)
And so for whatever reason -- because Debbie needs something good to happen, and she's been wishing, and hoping and praying right along with me these past three years for a pregnancy to take or because maybe the most recent person you know who has died suddenly becomes your guardian angel when needed. For whatever reason, Denise came to me that night. And I felt her warmth when I asked her if I was pregnant.
And so now, after having a few days to think about it, and talking to one of my other Catholic friends, I only describe what I'm feeling not as a crisis of faith, more like a crisis of faith in myself. Do I believe in myself enough to trust what I experienced? To believe what I believe it meant?
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
They're In....
and the wait begins.
I had my transfer yesterday. There are three beautiful embryos in there, all in the blastula stage (the next stage of embryo development). I'll take that as a good sign.
I'm trying to stay positive, to have good thoughts about what could be happening in my body. But I've never been on the other side of this, so I can only recall the bad stuff.
I try to block those memories out with images of me holding a swaddled baby in the crook of my arm from a hospital bed. Or running like an airplane, with my arms spread straight out, chasing a toddler with red curls. Or me in my 7th or 8th month of pregnancy, fat and happy.
I went to see my friend April, to meet her two-week-old baby today. I was hoping for some good baby mojo from Elliott. I held him the whole two hours I was there. Changed his diaper and his onesie. Fed him. Watched him sleep. And looked his 10 perfect, tony fingers.
Even though April and I talked about yesterday, it was nice to think about yesterday. To think about the blood test. To think about what happens after the blood test.
I had my transfer yesterday. There are three beautiful embryos in there, all in the blastula stage (the next stage of embryo development). I'll take that as a good sign.
I'm trying to stay positive, to have good thoughts about what could be happening in my body. But I've never been on the other side of this, so I can only recall the bad stuff.
I try to block those memories out with images of me holding a swaddled baby in the crook of my arm from a hospital bed. Or running like an airplane, with my arms spread straight out, chasing a toddler with red curls. Or me in my 7th or 8th month of pregnancy, fat and happy.
I went to see my friend April, to meet her two-week-old baby today. I was hoping for some good baby mojo from Elliott. I held him the whole two hours I was there. Changed his diaper and his onesie. Fed him. Watched him sleep. And looked his 10 perfect, tony fingers.
Even though April and I talked about yesterday, it was nice to think about yesterday. To think about the blood test. To think about what happens after the blood test.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
The gifts of fertility
With Ginger going under tomorrow for her retrieval, I started to mentally prepare for my procedure next week and what I will be bringing with me. And that got me thinking about the gifts and encouragement that my friends have given me over the past three years.
My friend Jill, who has been my rock, my chauffeur, my shoulder to cry on, and my hand to squeeze, bought me a beautiful set of rosary beads in Jerusalem. I use the beads every week before mass. And at the start of this journey, she loaned me a fertility statue she got in Africa. It has sat on top of the television in my room.
After my miscarriage last year, I packed it up and had it in a small shopping bag, on my counter ready to go back to her. But something stopped me. I was in it for the long haul, the statue would be too. It is back on top of the television, and perhaps, in thinking about it, I will move it closer to the bed tonight.
My friend Jennifer, who has three children via IVF, told me about praying to St. Gerard. I immediately went out and bought myself a medal, which I've worn on my chain with my diamond pendant. And I have a prayer card that I keep in my wallet.
St. Gerard, the patron saint of fertility and motherhood, was with my friend April when she underwent her IVF procedure. She gave birth to a beautiful little boy a week ago.
Heather gave me a a heart-shaped pin with the word "faith" on it in several languages. She said her baby pulled at it at the check-out counter while they were shopping, and she took that as a sign. I have it pinned to the size 12-month Derek Jeter t-shirt that I bought myself almost 15 years ago. And usually both of those go with me to the doctor's office.
Bubbles has gotten me countless gifts, not only for the impending pregnancy that she has total faith will happen, but the eventual birth. A maternity dress, a gift card for Motherhood Maternity -- both of which I considered and contemplated giving away to various friends when I heard of their pregnancies. But something always stopped me.
And for the baby -- a picture frame for the baby's hand prints, tiny little sneakers, books. All of which are in my baby box waiting for the tiny little body to use them.
And Hope and Claudia, who have wiped away tears and said nothing when I just needed someone to be in the room. Who have been just as excited as I am about each little step of the process, who always remember to ask after a doctor's appointment.
My mom, who doesn't always quite understand the process or the terms, who sometimes is a little over-anxious about results, from day one, has never wavered in her support or excitement over the prospect that her daughter is intentionally going to be a single mother.
Two of my nieces and my sister-in-law, who have given me maternity clothes or picked up a little book here or clipped a magazine article there.
So many friend have been so supportive, and while I have complained in the past about the lack of support from most of my siblings, the ones who have been are unbelievably a part of the process.
I guess my point of today's post is not only for me to recognize and be thankful for the little gifts and the people in my life, but to remind you that no matter how much they drive you crazy, you're lucky for the people in your life.
My friend Jill, who has been my rock, my chauffeur, my shoulder to cry on, and my hand to squeeze, bought me a beautiful set of rosary beads in Jerusalem. I use the beads every week before mass. And at the start of this journey, she loaned me a fertility statue she got in Africa. It has sat on top of the television in my room.
After my miscarriage last year, I packed it up and had it in a small shopping bag, on my counter ready to go back to her. But something stopped me. I was in it for the long haul, the statue would be too. It is back on top of the television, and perhaps, in thinking about it, I will move it closer to the bed tonight.
My friend Jennifer, who has three children via IVF, told me about praying to St. Gerard. I immediately went out and bought myself a medal, which I've worn on my chain with my diamond pendant. And I have a prayer card that I keep in my wallet.
St. Gerard, the patron saint of fertility and motherhood, was with my friend April when she underwent her IVF procedure. She gave birth to a beautiful little boy a week ago.
Heather gave me a a heart-shaped pin with the word "faith" on it in several languages. She said her baby pulled at it at the check-out counter while they were shopping, and she took that as a sign. I have it pinned to the size 12-month Derek Jeter t-shirt that I bought myself almost 15 years ago. And usually both of those go with me to the doctor's office.
Bubbles has gotten me countless gifts, not only for the impending pregnancy that she has total faith will happen, but the eventual birth. A maternity dress, a gift card for Motherhood Maternity -- both of which I considered and contemplated giving away to various friends when I heard of their pregnancies. But something always stopped me.
And for the baby -- a picture frame for the baby's hand prints, tiny little sneakers, books. All of which are in my baby box waiting for the tiny little body to use them.
And Hope and Claudia, who have wiped away tears and said nothing when I just needed someone to be in the room. Who have been just as excited as I am about each little step of the process, who always remember to ask after a doctor's appointment.
My mom, who doesn't always quite understand the process or the terms, who sometimes is a little over-anxious about results, from day one, has never wavered in her support or excitement over the prospect that her daughter is intentionally going to be a single mother.
Two of my nieces and my sister-in-law, who have given me maternity clothes or picked up a little book here or clipped a magazine article there.
So many friend have been so supportive, and while I have complained in the past about the lack of support from most of my siblings, the ones who have been are unbelievably a part of the process.
I guess my point of today's post is not only for me to recognize and be thankful for the little gifts and the people in my life, but to remind you that no matter how much they drive you crazy, you're lucky for the people in your life.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Fertile Mertyl
Or, in this case, fertile Ginger. I got the update today that there are 12 to 15 good follicles and she is ready. The retrieval is scheduled for Thursday, and I will most likely have my transfer on Tuesday (though it could be Monday).
Wednesday I stop some of my meds and start up a whole bunch of new ones, including the blood thinner shot in my stomach and the two-inch needle of progesterone in my ass, and I get to add a vaginal suppository to my twice daily ritual. Good times.
I have a ton of meetings this week -- no less than four a day. But next week? Nothing on Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday. So whichever day it is, I'm good to take off that day and the next if I want.
Everything seems to be falling into place. I'm excited and scared, as always. But I think this time, more excited than scared. The odds are with me, right?
Wednesday I stop some of my meds and start up a whole bunch of new ones, including the blood thinner shot in my stomach and the two-inch needle of progesterone in my ass, and I get to add a vaginal suppository to my twice daily ritual. Good times.
I have a ton of meetings this week -- no less than four a day. But next week? Nothing on Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday. So whichever day it is, I'm good to take off that day and the next if I want.
Everything seems to be falling into place. I'm excited and scared, as always. But I think this time, more excited than scared. The odds are with me, right?
Monday, February 1, 2010
Gracias, Merci, Danke....
Dear Ginger,
I have been through what you are now going through -- the bloating, the daily shots in the stomach, the doctor appointments and blood work every other day. And I went through it because I knew it would ultimately be worth it, it was what I needed to do to fulfill my dream.
But for you to go through it for a stranger...
Words cannot express how grateful I am for what you're doing.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
--L
I have been through what you are now going through -- the bloating, the daily shots in the stomach, the doctor appointments and blood work every other day. And I went through it because I knew it would ultimately be worth it, it was what I needed to do to fulfill my dream.
But for you to go through it for a stranger...
Words cannot express how grateful I am for what you're doing.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
--L
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