My love, Hunter Gabriel
Monday, September 30, 2013
Wow..Reading back from my last post in December, I had no clue what was heading my way in just over a month...Life has been a whirl wind since, and I haven't looked back..Loving every minute of it! A post soon to catch up..
My love, Hunter Gabriel
My love, Hunter Gabriel
Monday, December 3, 2012
I will NOT let infertility define me…
From the moment my husband and I pledged our lives to each other, it seems, we knew we wanted to become parents. It was not “if” we have children, it was “when” we have children. Coming from a big family (only one sibling, but oodles of cousins,) I couldn’t imagine having it any other way. I pictured cute little button nose babies with my wild curly hair and my husband’s brown eyes.
Going into IVF #1, I had the most positive attitude. I was so excited, I was only 23 years old, medically healthy, DH’s sperm was excellent when it was frozen a few years prior…This was going to work, we were going to be parents. Everything went perfect- great response, two embryos put back…and then BFN. Ok, a bump in the road, we still had two frozen vials left…The day of that negative beta, I started planning for round number two. Saving where I could, planning ways to raise money to try again, planning for time off of work…6 months later, we were off to another unsuccessful round of IVF. The devastation I felt with that second BFN was horrible. I was young and healthy, how could this be happening again? Six long months of wondering what our next step would be after we put back our only remaining frozen embryo…
After our third round of treatment in March, a rough 9 weeks of being pregnant, and a devastating doctor’s appointment to find out our only remaining miracle had lost his/her heartbeat at 9 weeks, and a D&C, we decided that we would not be using our last remaining vial of sperm for another IVF, and our doctor agreed. I can say that losing a child, even if you only carried that child for 9 weeks, is unlike any feeling in the world. It is like every bad day you have had, piled into one. The anger and sadness, so overwhelming at times that you wonder if you will ever get out of bed again, ever smile again. I left a piece of my heart in that surgery center that day that I will never get back. I will never be the same again.
Fast forward 4 months, and I NEED to crawl out of this safe place I have tucked my heart into. I need to move on. We know that adoption, whether it be embryo adoption or newborn adoption, will be the the road that will lead us to parenthood. I don’t know how we will ever afford it, or how we will get there, but it is our option, it is where our hearts are. I cannot let infertility define me any longer. I cannot keep being the poor girl who can’t have kids on her own. I am ready to be whole, I am ready to become someone who can take something bad in her life and make it positive and inspirational.
“She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.”
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
We have created a blog with a tid bit of information about us. If you know anyone who may be interested in independent adoption, please, please share our blog and information with them. Thanks so much!
See our other blog HERE
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Link up HERE
This DIY globe!
Fancy pumpkins for Halloween
DIY fabric book shelf
Burlap Halloween banner!
This Jeep because it looks like mine!
What do you find Pinteresting this Wednesday?
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
11 days since my D&C. The physical pain is minimal; the emotional pain is sometimes overbearing. The toll that infertility in itself can take on a person and on a marriage is sometimes devastating. The toll that losing my IVF miracle, which I prayed for 2 years for, has been catastrophic. I never believed that a mother formed a connection with her child in early pregnancy. Now my view is totally different. I could not yet physically feel my baby at 9 weeks, but from the day I got that positive beta, I formed a connection with my unborn child. I no longer felt like my body belonged to me. My body belonged to my baby. Its sole purpose was to take care of my child. I no longer felt alone when I was physically alone. From the 5th week on, we watched our baby grow. We watched that beautiful heart flicker on the screen of our child. I came home from the surgery center that day, feeling like my heart had been ripped out of my body. A part of me was left there that day, and that part of me will never be whole again. I will never stop aching for my baby. They say that time heals all pain, and I have to believe that.
Yesterday was the first day I didn’t cry. I think that is a big step forward. I laughed a little for the first time in over a week. The thing that keeps me going is the feeling that there has to be a reason for all of this. There is a purpose. I chose not to believe that it is because my child wasn’t genetically perfect (my baby WAS perfect, that is why I chose not to have it sent for genetic testing.) There is some reason, which will slap me in the face one day. I didn’t pray after I lost my baby. I didn’t have the words or thoughts. All I felt was anger. I am still angry; but last night I was able to ask why. I asked to please show me why, that there HAD to be a reason, and I need to see what it is. People say that God needed my baby more than I did, that is was too special for earth. I’m not sure I can find comfort in that yet, but I know my baby is in Heaven, perfectly healthy, and hopefully sitting on that front porch swing between my grandma and grandpa, like I did so many times as a child.
I will get thru this. My marriage will survive this. One day at a time.
"Each day is a new life. Seize it. Live it."
~ David Guy Powers
Thursday, August 16, 2012
It has been a long while since I updated this blog. My last post, we were preparing for the FET of our last embryo. On June 28, 2012 our single frozen blast was transferred. After the usual three days on bed rest, I went back to life as normal. I drank my caffeine, I went to work, and I bought a new Jeep. I guess I figured if two fresh cycles hadn’t worked, why would a single frozen embryo, right?
Oh so wrong. Beta day was July 07. I felt fine. Wasn’t expecting a good phone call, and had already decided that I would not let myself get down when we got the negative results. When the nurse called that afternoon, she said “well, you’re pregnant...BUT” …got to love that word. Beta level was 38. She said that sometimes frozen embryos can implant later and produce lower numbers, so what was more important was that the number doubled within 48 hours. So cautiously optimistic, I cried with my husband, and prayed so hard that Monday’s beta would have doubled.
Monday afternoon, I got the phone call at work that my number had not only doubled, but almost tripled to 113. She joyfully told me that the numbers did what they wanted, and the Dr. didn’t want another beta, and scheduled me for my first ultrasound for a little over 6 weeks. To say I was the closest I have ever felt to heaven is an understatement. After cancer treatment, 2 failed IVF’s, and many, many prayers, I had a baby growing inside me.
Around 5 weeks, after some cramping at work, I came home to find blood when I went to the bathroom. After crying hysterically, a trip to the ER for a beta, and an emergency ultrasound at the clinic the next morning to make sure the baby wasn’t in my tubes, we were told that they couldn’t find a source for the bleeding, and although it was too early to look for the baby/ heartbeat, I had a beautiful, perfectly sized gestational sac and yolk sac in my uterus. I was told to relax and come back the next week for the viability scan. Than whole week I prayed and prayed, and hoped for good news. The weekend before my next scan was scheduled, I went to the bathroom on that Friday night and noticed a bunch of bright red blood. We frantically called the on call nurse, who told me to go straight to bed, and come in first thing Monday morning for a scan. I bled bright red, passing some sort of tissue for roughly 24 hours. That Monday morning, I cried getting ready for the doctor. I wasn’t ready for bad news. When she began the scan at 6 weeks 1 day, we immediately saw the most beautiful flicker on the screen. Our baby had a heart beat!! 105 beautiful beats per minute. My miracle measured perfect. They did find a small SCH which was the source of the bleeding, but were not concerned about it at all. I was told to come back in another week, and we would look for growth and an increase in heart rate.
After a picture perfect week, no bleeding, no morning sickness, and taking it easy, we returned at 7 weeks 3 days for our 3rd scan. Again, we immediately saw that beautiful flicker and a huge baby (compared to the speck of rice the week before.) Baby measured perfectly on track, heart rate of 162. The RE cut me down to every other day on PIO injections, and began weaning me off of estradiol. He also said that next week, if everything was still going good, we would make a call to my OB to schedule our first appointment.
Oh my gosh. This was finally starting to feel real. I had a baby growing inside me. With a beating heart. A perfect miracle.
Last Thursday, we got ready for our weekly appointment. I was a little nervous, but tried to push it to the back of my mind, because I am always nervous before appointments. We got into the ultrasound room, and immediately noticed how big the baby had gotten. You could see its head, arms, legs, and umbilical cord. What you could not see immediately however was that beautiful flicker. After trying and trying and trying, my husband finally said “there is no heart beat is there.” …. That was the end of life as we know it. My baby was dead. My beautiful, miracle, whom I had grown inside me for almost 9 weeks, was dead. I was so shocked I could not speak. I could not think. The ultrasound tech ran out of the room in tears to get the doctor. All I could think was that I could not pass my baby at home. I could not go through that. I could not sit at home and wait on it to happen. So the doctor scheduled me for a D&C the next day. I cried all the way through the procedure until they put me out, and I came home and slept most of the afternoon. I got straight up the next morning, took the top off of my Jeep, and I spent 4 hours driving around alone. When I finally came home I fell apart. I cried until I could not breathe. I cried until I could not see. I couldn’t make anyone understand how empty I felt. How alone I felt..It had been me and our baby for over 2 months..and now I was empty again. Our hearts are so broken, I feel like I may never re-cooperate from it. I loved my baby so much already. Today is my second day back to work and I have had my office door shut most of the day, because I just can’t fight the tears.
“ An Angel in the book of life wrote down our baby’s birth..and as she closed the book she gently whispered, “too beautiful for earth.”
I hope you’re happy in Heaven, mommy and daddy’s miracle…
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Well, this frozen embryo transfer has proven to be more stressful than a fresh cycle for me. Whew! To play catch up, I went to the RE last Wednesday. My lining was only at 7.2, when the doctor wanted it to be an 8. He increased my estrace from two 2mg pills daily to 3. I went back on Saturday, my lining had made it up to 7.9. I was told to come back on Tuesday (today) and if my lining and estrogen levels weren't better, my cycle would be canceled. Blagh. I have never had lining problems with cycles before. 2 fresh cycles, 2 perfect linings. Needless to say I have been on an emotional (and hormonal) whirlwind the past week. This mornings ultrasound showed my lining to be at a 8.5 with a nice triple stripe. So, I find myself sitting here doing the usual..waiting waiting waiting on the doctor to call. Keeping my fingers crossed!!