Onward.

We're ready to roll, folks. Today we got the go-ahead that Monday (6/30) will be our transfer date of two little embryos. (I don't know if I can still call them 'totscicles', as they're probably about to begin thawing...) Last time we knew the genders of the two embryos they transferred, but we've chosen not to know this time to help alleviate some anxiety. Sometimes, ignorance really is bliss.

Many have asked why I haven't blogged in awhile. The truth is that I haven't blogged because I didn't want to have to be honest about how I'm ACTUALLY doing. But when I started this blog I promised I'd always be open and honest, mostly because I wanted to remember how I truly felt when I looked back. So I will try to keep that promise to myself, even though currently it ain't pretty. (Disclaimer: I DID promise myself that when I thought I'd only have 3 entries before sending out my cute ultrasound while thanking everyone for their prayers. But fine, a promise is a promise.)

The past couple weeks have been difficult. I was talking to a friend of mine who is currently going through IVF and she said "Do you think it's possible for anyone else to know how bad this sucks?" She captured my thoughts in that moment perfectly. This experience is so isolating that sometimes you think you may be the only person to ever have gone through it. (Disclaimer #2: I know that's completely dramatic.) I think maybe it's just like anytime you have a dark cloud hanging over you, it's hard for others to know what the rain feels like to YOU.

The weeks before the transfer are filled with hormones, shots, and medicines that make you feel like a completely different person. (And by different, I mean crazy.)  I act and say and do things that are so out of character for me that it causes me to be even MORE upset with this process and myself. (I can usually "fake it 'til I make it" in public settings until I'm with someone that I don't have to "fake it" around. Shout out to those "someones", who somehow are all still speaking to me.) Perhaps the biggest truth is that for the first time since this process began, I decided I didn't want it anymore. I decided I was ok to move to Oregon and open up a winery. I decided that I was really good at some things, and having babies just wasn't one of them. I decided that Will and my dogs and my family and my friends were enough. (Disclaimer #3: I still may think that. Not sure I'm completely out of that "stage".)

Last week I was emailing someone who went through fertility issues a year ago and since then has become a dear friend and cheerleader. I was blunt and honest with her and admitted that I wanted to give up.  She basically said, "If you want to dream of opening up a winery, then do that! Daydream and research all you want! In fact, you SHOULD do that! What a great distraction! But you can't stop perusing another dream you're already in the middle of chasing."

Her words got me thinking of the summer that we had to learn the "butterfly" stroke on swim team. After I was forced to attempt the stroke at practice one day, I went home and immediately told my parents that I wanted to quit because doing the butterfly stroke made me feel like I was going to drown.  My parents said "OK, you can quit, but not until next summer. You decided you were going to do it this year, so you need to finish what you started." Throughout the summer's swim meets, I don't think I ever received anything other than the purple "disqualified" ribbon. It was a horrible summer. But ya know what? I didn't drown.

So onward we go. It doesn't matter that we're not skipping to the doctors' offices with lots of hope like we were last time. It doesn't matter that I cry constantly, or that I'm so anxious that sometimes I think my heart may beat out of my chest. It doesn't matter that we met with the surrogacy agency because we're fairly certain none of this will work. It doesn't matter that I curse the hormones every time Will injects them into me. It doesn't matter that sometimes I think "I'd be an excellent wine maker." Instead what matters is that we're moving forward, one day at a time, pursuing a dream that I once thought was attainable. (And in some moments, maybe I still do.)

Love,

Kendall and will

Ps. Final disclaimer: Will read this and would like to be clear that he's not a "Negative Nancy" and he is still full of hope and excitement. So go ahead and change all previous "we" statements to "me only" statements.  (If it's true what they say that "even if someone had to carry you across the finish line, you still crossed it", then thanks for carrying me, Willionaire.)

"We may encounter many defeats but we must not be defeated."

Since the death of Maya Angelou, her quotes have covered news headlines, twitter accounts, and Facebook news feeds, and I have LOVED it.  I loved the optimism that her legacy has left behind. I loved that every quote struck different people in entirely different ways. I loved that people googled her and ordered her books that they've always been meaning to read. (I know I did!) I loved that I stood a little taller after reading about such an amazing woman and all she accomplished. And I especially loved how one thing she said has echoed through my head this past week as if she planned the timing herself: "We may encounter many defeats but we must not be defeated."

Will and I had a week of some defeated thoughts. Last week, (right after my beautiful sisters' wedding weekend, which was pure perfection by the way...), we were set to finish some tests to get the 'thumbs up' to start preparing my body for the next round of meds and another embryo transfer. We were expecting smooth sailing, as this is the "easy" part. However, unfortunately one of the tests resulted in the need for surgery on part of my uterus. So not exactly the 'thumbs-up' we were expecting. (Actually felt more like the middle finger than the thumb.) We still aren't sure exactly what happened. Our basic understanding is that my uterus got infected from my last miscarriage and they had to remove that part to avoid further damage. (Frankly, I still don't really get it.) We had 3 days notice for the surgery which gave us the perfect amount of time to repeat the phrase "CAN'T WE JUST CATCH ONE FREAKING BREAK??" about 9,345 times. (Maybe even 9,346.)

Surgery was in the main hospital on Monday morning, and other than the anesthesiologist trying to put the tube down my throat while I was still awake, everything went really well. I've bounced back fairly quickly, actually.

We won't be given the 100% green light for a definitive transfer date until a couple of weeks post-surgery, but we're moving forward with injections hoping that I continue doing well with this part of the healing. We start the first shot tonight and our hope is that all goes smoothly and we can do an embryo transfer during the last week in June.

This week wasn't what we were expecting, and it felt like just another defeat. But it turned out to be another defeat we could handle.  So thank you, Dr. Angelou, for reminding me that we sure aren't waving the white flag yet.

Bring it on, June. We're ready for you.

Love,
Kendall and Will

Ps. For those that are confused, yes- we ARE doing another embryo transfer. We're going to try one more time before going the surrogacy route. Because I have embryos already frozen, we don't have to do the harvest again. And if you recall from earlier blogs, hell would have to freeze over for me to do that again, so it works out nicely.