In transition

On Monday we found out the results of the genetic testing of our two embryos. We have one embryo that is normal and there was one that was missing the #8 chromosome. We have one. We have one little embryo that has made it this far. Monday I left myself get excited. I started picturing the transfer date, planning on what would be next. Then we met with the doctor. He let us know that only 3 of 4 frozen embryos make it through the thaw process. And after that, we have a 50/50 chance of pregnancy. My heart was crushed. I was overcome with regret that I had not done the fresh transfer instead of waiting for the genetic testing.  I feel like my choice to freeze this last embryo may result in its death and that feels really, really shitty.

When we were making the decision to wait for the testing, we asked the question of the chances were any different for success with frozen vs. fresh embryos. The response we got was not really. So we evaluated all of the pros and cons of waiting for the genetic testing and chose to wait. It felt like a solid decision at the time. Now I am terrified that my fear of a miscarriage will ultimately result in the loss of our final, normal embryo.

I have grieved the loss of the other 10. In many ways, I have been able to accept the loss of those embryos because they were not viable. They would not likely have made it, even in my womb. In reality, the fact that so many did not make it made me grateful that we had not tried to get pregnant again on our own. I looked at the numbers and realized that during our years of trying, the odds were stacked against us. I am thankful to the universe for giving me those 10 embryos. I have been able to find peace and healing in the process of retrieval, fertilization, and growing.

But it feels completely different with this last little one.

I desperately want this one to make it. I am so ready to be a mom. I have a strong desire to have a big baby belly. I want to not to be able to see my feet. I want to complain about being uncomfortable. To feel the baby kick inside of me. I want to buy baby clothes, prepare a nursery, and get excited for birth. I want to labor and deliver. And I want this little baby. Not another one, down the road. This one.

We are scheduled to transfer on August 13th and that is a freaking long time from now. Whenever I think about the fact that it is two months from now before we will know if the embryo can make it through the thaw, I am overcome by anxiety. I feel like time is slipping through my hands and that another year will be gone and I will be standing at the precipice of a new year with an empty belly. As I step out of the fog of regret, anger, and sadness I am finding the good in the two months I have been given. I am able to return to Nia where I know that I am able to heal physical and emotional wounds. I am able to go through a natural cycle, which will have me at a stable place for transfer instead of the hyperstimulated, not very happy place I was in after the retrieval. And I can do some spirit work to prepare for the first trimester of pregnancy.  I will count my blessings, note the abundance that surrounds me, and say a little prayer for my little embryo that is sitting and waiting to come home.

The reality of making a baby is that no matter how awesome the science is, no matter how perfectly I follow the directions, it is still a miracle. It still takes magic and I need magic.

The Power of Now

In my experience grief can sneak up out of nowhere and land like a ton of bricks, surprising both myself and those around me. It can be all consuming and crushing.  Sometimes it takes a trigger, like hearing a particular song or seeing something that is a reminder of previous lost pregnancies. Sometimes it can come from absolutely nowhere. Grief is infinite and nonlinear, moving like a wave through time and my body. Last Thursday night, I went to bed and read my book. My book is funny and it not at all about pregnancy, babies, or grief (or at least not in the particular chapter I was reading). Shortly after shutting off the light and laying in bed I was overcome with anxiety that transitioned into deep, deep sadness. I was grieving the loss of the 9 embryos that did not make it. I grieved the loss of the fresh transfer that we had so eagerly anticipated and planned for. And I worried for my two embryos that were sitting frozen in a lab, while we wait for the news from the genetics lab. My grief surfaced, rocked me to my core, leaving me exhausted.

I remember on Friday feeling a bit empty and stranded. The emotional and physical sensation was very much like the feeling I have felt in previous pregnancies just before learning that the pregnancy was over. I was positive it was a sign that this is not going to work. That the magic of all of the love and support that whooshed us into the process back in May had dissipated and that we were suddenly on our own. I was also at a loss with what to do with myself. I am an inherent planner. I love knowing what I am doing ahead of time and now that I found myself in a place of limbo with IVF I struggled to find my footing.

Then magic happened. I was gifted with a Saturday so incredibly rich with everything that my spirit needed; the day was uplifting and throughout the day my heart opened. My whole body soaked in the gifts of the day. Sunshine is good medicine for my body. As is fresh air, fresh fruits and veggies, laughter, time with friends, and getting moving.  I ate meals that day that were nourishing and exactly what my body wanted. We spent time in the sunshine talking with friends and participating in the farmers market community. I shared laughter with friends and went for a long walk. I released into being led by the universe from moment to moment, noticing that I was being given everything that I needed but did not know how to ask for.

Since then we've received messages from friends and family reminding us that they are thinking about us and sending us support. And each message is a gentle lifting up of my spirit and a reminder that the magic is not lost. We are not in this alone and we continue to be embraced by people who are holding the space and hope for us. And that is a very powerful antidote to the worry, anxiety, and grief. I entered this week feeling hopeful and more at ease. And for that, I am deeply grateful.

Believe

I admire my husband's ability to believe, wholly and completely that this round of IVF will work for us. That we will get pregnant. I love that he hears good news and that it bolsters his belief and makes it strong. I need to have that dose of optimism and faith that he provides because it sustains me during days like today when I am filled with doubt.

We have two frozen embryos that are waiting. Two samples are set to be shipped to the genetics lab on Monday with results coming a week later. I really, really want to believe that one of them is a viable embryo. I feel like not believing is giving up on these two little embryos and that if I do not believe they will not make it. But wow, waiting and hoping and believing for the next two weeks feels like a huge effort and I am tired, anxious, and wanting my answer now.  While waiting two weeks seems short in the scale of how long we've been trying, the fact that we have been waiting for years is precisely why waiting two weeks feels so epic. 

I sustained belief that this will work for us all last week and when we did not get to do a fresh transfer my belief faltered. I was boosted with the news on Sunday that we have the two embryos that grew enough for biopsy but there is a level of awareness of how old the embryos are vs. where we've gotten in pregnancy and, there is quite a bit of fear that neither will be viable.  I also received the news that if this round is not successful that IVF is not a viable route for us and that we'll need to talk other options, including donor eggs. Donor eggs had not even crossed my radar as a possibility and suddenly I find myself slogging through feelings of inadequacy for the hypothetical scenario of needing donor eggs. I am clear and absolutely believe that if there is a transfer, that I can sustain a pregnancy. I fully believe that my body is capable, as she has demonstrated a willingness to hold a pregnancy in the past. Why is it so challenging extrapolate that into believing that my body is able to produce at least one egg that becomes a healthy embryo? 

I know that we will be parents. I do not know how or when or what road will get us there, but I know it will happen. I pray to God that it happens with this IVF. While we wait we will keep doing what nurtures hope and we keep stepping forward in the process. We stand by our garden each day, celebrating the growth of our seedlings that we planted on Saturday, finding comfort and strength in seeing something tangible grow from our care. We lean in to each other and communicate. We allow ourselves to be supported by friends and family who bake cookies, send movies and books, and drop us little notes of love. And...we wait, believing that in two weeks time we'll be scheduling a transfer.

And then, there are the valleys

This week has been rough. I hyper-stimulated from the HCG trigger shot, leaving me feeling pretty yucky and spinning up my fears. Bloated, in pain, and guzzling Gatorade like crazy I have been desperate for relief from the symptoms and scared that it was a "sign" that this whole IVF thing was not going to work.

Throughout this process I have been keeping at bay the fear that there will be a moment that this dream will not end happily ever after. And I have been successful...mostly.  After 5 miscarriages it is not an easy thing to trust that pregnancy can happen for me. It is much easier to slip into the belief that I am cursed to cycles of losses. There is far too much data to support it. For years and multiple pregnancies we have dove into whatever it takes to improve our marriage, improve our health, and shift priorities to create space for a baby. And for years that dream has not manifested.

When we decided to go the route of IVF it was because we were hopeful that the process would work for us. It was also to get some closure on what has caused our previous losses. The answer to the question of "why" was lying along the path of stimulation hormones, progesterone, retrieval, fertilization, and transfer. Our analytical minds could understand breaking things down to the little steps and looking at it through a microscope to find out how it was all working. And then, we would end up with a baby at the end of it. Closure and dream come true - we're all in.

Of the twelve eggs harvested, 11 fertilized. We got the call this morning that of those 11, 8 had stopped growing and were losses. There are three that have slowly grown to this morning but are not at the stage for genetic biopsy. It was time to make a decision - do we do a fresh transfer without a genetic biopsy and hope for the best or do we see how much growth has happened overnight, biopsy, and schedule a transfer down the road?  It feels like a huge decision. It feels like a test of how badly do I want a baby. It feels like a test of my faith. My brain is clouded by the fact that 8 little embryos did not make it and those feel like little losses.

Am I choosing from love or from fear? I have great clarity that I do not want to endure another loss if at all possible. In there is a little bit of fear of what I may become if I lose another baby. Pregnancy loss is a dark place and each time it takes longer and longer to pull out of it. And my ability to find hope is diminished with each loss. So there is also a component of love for myself and my relationships in all of this.

But what if I am meant to take this leap, transfer what we have, and see what comes of it?

I am not sure what the *right* choice is. We have decided to wait on the transfer and see what happens tomorrow. If our three little embryos continue to grow, they can biopsy and then freeze them for a transfer date in 1-2 weeks. So for the next 24 hours we pray that our little ones keep going, keep growing, and that our dream is not over yet. We are both aware that this is completely out of our hands and that we are riding the wave of becoming parents. Yet, that feeling of powerlessness does not get easier and the frustration of really wanting something and not being able to do anything to manifest it is ever present.

I am aware that the news that we received this morning is our answer to "why." The majority of my fertilized eggs do not result in a genetically viable embryo.  I won't ever know why my eggs did not produce viable embryos in all 11. It could be from exposure to toxins, genetics, really bad luck, etc. But I do know that it means that the previous losses were not because of something I ate, or going to a concert, or any of those actions.

I enter my day feeling quite a bit of sadness at what is not meant to be, desperate hope that our three embryos are viable and flourish, and a sense of closure.  I am also moving with a little bit of fear of what the news will be tomorrow. But all I can do is move through the emotions of today while holding tight to my hopes and dreams. It is not over for us.

An Agnew dozen

We are officially t-minus four days from the transfer date. On Sunday, May 26th we will be headed to Dr. Thompson's office to complete the transfer of our embryo(s), welcoming them "home." We're currently circling in a holding pattern, waiting to hear how many of our embryos can be biopsied and then again, how many of those biopsied are good for transfer. It is kind of a numbers game right now. And, we're kind of killing it.

The retrieval was very successful. They were able to collect 12 eggs, right on target with the statistic that 2/3 of follicles will produce eggs for retrieval.  Peter (AKA Gladiator of Loin Juice) provided his army of soldiers who were delivered to their task immediately. And to apparent success - eleven of the eggs fertilized, surpassing the statistic of 80% of eggs fertilize.  We are spending the next five days encouraging along our little embryos so that they might grow enough for biopsy on Saturday and so that we get a number of embryos for transfer.

One of the things I am thankful for is that I have been able to shift some stories I have had about my body this past week. At the start of IVF I had the belief that my body "did not like" synthetic hormones and that I would not be able to take them without major side effects. I had the story that there was something fundamentally wrong with my ovaries and that I would not generate more than 6 to 8 eggs in this process. I had the story that I could not handle anesthesia and that it was going to be "hard." My truth is that none of these stories are true. I was able to handle the hormones with minimal side effects. The majority of the symptoms came after the very first dose and then my system seemed to equilibrate. More amazingly, my body really responded to the medications and grew follicles faster than we all expected, moving everything up by two days. I grew TWELVE eggs that were happily harvested this week, while under anesthesia. I woke up from anesthesia feeling great after about 30 minutes, able to enjoy a sweet afternoon and evening with my honey.

So now that all of those stories have been busted as myth I am now aware that my biggest story - that I am not able to carry a successful pregnancy - could be bogus as well.  This is a big story. It is the thesis statement of my relationship with myself and my pregnant body and one that I have been working on shifting for a long while. I am aware that my self-healing has been chipping cracks into this story and I am ready to break it wide open and emerge from it with a full, happy belly.

I am using today and the rest of the week to tie up loose ends and to create the space for me to take care of my newly transferred embryos through rest and ease. I am calling in support through acupuncture and family for support this weekend, before and after the transfer. I am visualizing the most comfortable, welcoming, and warm environment for implantation and growth to happen. Both internally and externally.

Grow, grow, grow little embryos. We are ready.

Gladiator of Loin Juice

Ladies and Gentlemen:

I present to you, the one and only...

THE GLADIATOR OF LOIN JUICE

Also known as my husband. Also known as my hero.

When we first started with our fertility doctor, Peter submitted a semen sample for assay analysis. This was just to get an idea of the overall health of his sperm. He got the call from the nurse with his results and immediately contacted me to share (more like brag) his results, which indicated that he was above average for all of the parameters.

Me: You're like the superstar of semen.

Peter: Spooge master? Gladiator of Loin juice? I think I like "Gladiator of Loin Juice." I'll have to make a t-shirt.

Pete has a great sense of humor that he has continued to bring to the IVF process. From whispering in my ear to tell me that my "chocolate chip scones look delicious"(referring to my ovaries with follicles) during the scan at the doctor's office to singing a theme song for injection time, he has gently kept my spirits up and positive. I am sure this was a scary prospect to him. Not only was he tasked with doing something way outside of his comfort zone, giving my the twice daily hormone injections, he was also not sure what kind of hormonal wife he was going to have on his hands. Regardless of his fears, he has been present, holding an incredibly vast and safe space for this experience. On top of that, he has taken on more of the household chores, allowing and encouraging me to rest and take care of myself. 

To say I love Peter does not begin to express my feelings. I am deeply grateful that he is my husband and that we are creating a family together. I am eager to see him as a father. I get to witness the gentle, compassionate, playfulness that he will bring to our children. He is amazing and he inspires me to be the best person that I can be. I dream of the great family memories we will create together and the amazing people our children will be.

We were originally scheduled for retrieval on Wednesday, May 22nd and are very excited that it has been bumped up to tomorrow. My body responded very well to the stimulation hormones, growing 18 giant follicles. During our scan on Saturday we got the green light for an early retrieval and did the "trigger shot" of HCG last night. Tomorrow morning we go in and our Agnew baby(s) begin and we'll have two embryos transferred on Saturday, May 25th. After months (and years) of waiting and wanting we are both excited and a little bit in disbelief that this is happening now and so quickly. 

Tonight we're prepping ourselves by picturing plump and happy eggs that are ready to be partnered with the top ranking sperm. We went to a nice dinner, added some touches to the nursery room, and have been talking about what is next in the process. We'll know by Tuesday how many fertilized and will be shifting our focus on the growth of healthy embryos that are ready for transfer. Incredible to think that the transfer is just one week away. And if all goes well, will be the first date of my pregnancy and the welcoming of our baby(s) into my womb. 

We continue to be touched and honored by the love and support coming from our community of friends and family. Your positive thoughts, words, and prayers are very much felt and appreciated. You raise us up and are a big part of the nurturing that we are doing. Together, we nurture to hope and to receive.

Wanting

I think that it is human nature to look for an answer to the question of "Why?" when something sad and unexpected happens. In moments of tragedy we search for any reason to help us resolve what has happened in our hearts and minds. And, to take actions to prevent the tragedy from happening again. After my first pregnancy loss I was okay with the statistical reply of "1 and 3 women have a miscarriage during their first pregnancy." An astounding number but one that my analytical brain could wrap around. The miscarriage was natural and my body was simply doing what she needed to do. And then the second loss happened and my heart needed more than statistics. Had I worked too much? Was it the salty mongolian beef I ate at lunch? In 2010, we had gone to a Modest Mouse concert and then two weeks later our 8w ultrasound found fetal demise and aged the fetus at 6w. Instantly I went to blaming myself for going to that concert, making that single instant in time the reason for our loss. After the fifth loss I was searching for any reason.  Should I have missed that prenatal vitamin? What if it is because I didn't laugh enough? Should I have skipped that Nia class? What did I do wrong?

Did I lose this baby because I did not want it enough?

The journey of healing after our last loss was difficult. Overcoming the story, the ghost, that my losses were because I did not want a baby enough took a lot of work. There were moments when I felt that I was dragging myself up and out of the loss and grief, building strength to recognize the ghosts and stories and put them away. I made it. We made it. Emerging stronger and ready for the next step for us, which turned out to be IVF. 

I have been finding that voice of dissent, asking me "what if you do not want this enough" seeping into my thoughts. I know it is a ridiculous question. I know how much I have wanted a baby and for how long. I know that my pregnancy losses were not the result of a choice I made, an action I took, or a seemingly lack of desire. And this time is no different. That voice does not belong here and so I say "Hello, I hear you and goodbye."  There are definitely things that I am worried about, purely out of not knowing what to expect and from being a woman embarking on motherhood. I must not mistake my fear and worry about what lies in the future as an indication of a lack of desire. It is quite the contrary. My fears about whether or not I will know when to stop breastfeeding or how to teach my baby how to do things or how I will keep him/her safe are perfectly normal and a clear sign that this is something that I want.

We had our appointment today to check on how the follicles are growing with the stimulation hormones. My follicles are growing better than expected and we could be looking at an early retrieval date if we keep up the current pace. We have many follicles growing and there is hope for plenty of eggs being available for harvest.  All great news and it is exciting to think that things will be happening sooner than planned. 

So why this post? Well, I realized while walking the dogs tonight that all day I have been carrying myself with heightened awareness that I am growing something that is very important to me.  Consequently I have worried about walking too much, resting too little, eating the right food, drinking enough water. I recognize that old ghost of "wanting this enough" coming in. And I realized that this is an opportunity to play and move through this.  I know how to listen to my body and fully trust that she tells me what is needed. I also know I can choose to listen.  I have a huge box of tools to pull from, a support system to lean in on, and the knowledge that I can do this. So tonight I am making the choice to lay down instead of giving the dogs a bath. I'll pull out my book instead of sending out emails. And I'll continue to make it up as I go, staying tuned within, and to the dream.