One of those days.

I'm going to be honest...today is one of those days that I really wish I didn't start a blog for the world to read. Today is one of those days I wish I didn't have to tell wonderfully loving people in my life some disappointing news. Today is one of those days I'd like to crawl in my bed in the dark and just watch Usher, Blake Shelton and Adam Levine on Hulu and be left alone. Today is a day I'd like to cry a lot and be really angry that the hundreds of shots (Literally! We counted!) in my stomach and my bum haven't done anything, except for leave me looking like a domestic abuse victim. To put it simply, today is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

We went to our 6 week appointment today. We had convinced ourselves we were going to hear the heartbeats of our two little babies for the first time. (Remember, they put in two embryos.) We discussed where we'd go to dinner tonight to celebrate, how to hold the camera to videotape the heartbeats on the screen, and how we'd do a gender reveal to tell our families it's twins.  (If you can't tell, things didn't go quite like that.)

On the ultrasound, they saw one gestational sack. The other one possibly never attached, I've already miscarried, or was absorbed by the other embryo. (Google 'vanishing twin'... although it won't be as creepy as you think.) However,  in the gestational sack they weren't able to detect a "fetal pole." (I'd explain what that was if I knew.) Because we are at a highly specialized place, they hope to be able to see that at 6 weeks with their advanced machines. However, if they can't, the results aren't 100% until 7 weeks. So we will go next week (when I'll be 7 weeks) to verify if there is something in the gestational sack, or if I've already miscarried.

The ultrasound tech told us to be optimistic, to take deep breaths, and to relax this next week. (I really wanted to tell her to "shove it", but I refrained.) We've been in that exact same room, with the exact same nurse, and have been told the exact same thing; "Come back in a week... we'll hopefully see something different then!" We're just a little burned on the optimism.

I know we have two options this next week. We can sulk and mourn a bit, or we can be optimistic and hope for good news in a week. If I'm honest, I plan on doing both. I plan to eat a lot of ice-cream and cookie dough in attempts to myself feel better. (My dear friend reminded me that on days like today, calories don't count.)   I plan on crying and hugging Will a lot, and having some "next step" talks. But then, after this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, I plan on being optimistic. (Because if its own mom can't root for the little embryo to make it, who will?) I plan on convincing myself that I'm just being a dramatic, primadonna, and that everything will be A-OK when we go back in a week. (I also plan on laughing a lot, like remembering the time one of my sisters and I realized that it was a "primadonna", and not a "pre-madonna". In our defense, definitions mean basically the same thing...) I plan on preparing for when the nurse says "Miracles Happen! Listen to that heartbeat!"

I can't wait for the day to be one of those days... because THAT will be a happy day.

Love,
Kendall and Will

Singing and Celebrating

My sister Caroline reminded me of the classic song sung by Phoebe in "Friends" when she was waiting to see if she was pregnant after her embryo transfer. (Remember? With her brother's baby?):

"Are you in there little fetus?,
in 9 months will you come greet us?
I will buy you some ADIDAS..."
(For those of you who need a musical rendition to recall... click here.)

For the past 10 days we have been giving similar pep-talks to our little "tot-sicle." (Get it?? Frozen embryos + popsicles = totsicles! Gets me every time...) It's felt like a forever long wait, but today we went in for our first pregnancy test. (It's just a blood test, so it cannot indicate a heartbeat.) They called us a few hours later, and my hormone levels are indicative of a pregnancy. Yep, I. AM. PREGNANT.

Of course, I was in the shower when they called. I had taken the morning off because my friend told me they called around 10:30am usually. Well, the nurse told me "It won't be until late afternoon, so go home and relax!" (I was hoping it would be like when the 16-year-old hostess tells you it's going to be a 45 minute wait for a table at a restaurant, and then 5 minutes later they call you.) I finally decided at 11:30am to believe the nurse that it wouldn't be for another few hours, and so I'd take an extremely quick shower. (And of course I was in mid-conditioning when they called). But ya know what? You can look like a wet dog and have mascara all over your face, but when the nurse says on speaker phone "Your results show you're pregnant!", none of that ends up mattering.

Will was convinced I wasn't pregnant, so I thought he may pass out. I went back and forth every hour guessing the result. (Just so I could say "I knew it", whatever the results were.) So we both stood there in shock for a bit, not listening to the other instructions our nurse was giving us. Finally, it sunk it, and man-oh-man are we happy. (Understatement of the century.)

We know this is just one part of the journey. Unfortunately, we've been here before. On Friday, I go back to make sure my hormone levels are rising appropriately, and in 2 weeks we go back for our 6-week ultrasound. This is the "biggy" to see if a heartbeat can be detected. That's when we'll know that maybe this time could be different. For now though, we will be thankful!

I'm off to celebrate with my baby-daddy. (And will continue to sing to my embryo a promise that if she* hangs in there, she* can get all the Adidas she* wants.)

SO much love to all!

And an extra XO to all the girls that put together our two-week-wait package. Every day we've had an activity to unwrap, and an inspirational card. (From using a gift card to get Fat Cat Ice-cream, to Easter bunny ears to put on our dogs for a spring photo session, to a gift card to Zelko Bistro, to a manicure/pedicure kit, to a gift card to Barnes and Noble...like Will said, "it's Christmas every day!") You have made us laugh every. single. day. We will be forever grateful for your kindness, thoughtfulness, and for holding us up during these weeks. (Now we are going to re-wrap them and do it all again these next 2 weeks!) 

Love,
The 3 Monroes
(yes, I know it's too soon. But I couldn't resist.)

*I'm using "she" because I've heard whatever gender you call the totsicle, it'll become that. Obviously this isn't true, but I'd be an idiot if I didn't try. (Just kidding. I'll love it even if it's a boy. I'll just love it MORE if it's a girl. :)) 

Lucky.

Five St. Patrick's Days ago, Will and I were in a limo bouncing around Irish bars, and we decided we made a pretty good team and so I should stop letting other guys buy me green beer. I like to imagine that during that limo ride, God was laughing saying "oh just wait to see what you'll two be doing 5 years from now on St. Patrick's Day!"

Today we soaked in all the luck we could get. It was Embryo Transfer Day! After a month of shots and meds, my body was ready for the transfer.

It's crazy how each step we've gone through has been a hard, uphill battle, and then today, the day we've been working towards, was so easy! We did acupuncture in the morning before hand, (studies show it can help your chances), and then we went into the procedural room. Unlike the harvest, Will got to come with me. You get to walk in, (no wheel chairs or bed gurney this time!), and then a swarm of people come in. 

The embryologist team came in first and confirmed my name, social, birthday, etc. to make sure they were using the right embryos. (So I guess I won't be accidentally have George Clooney's baby, after all). Then the doctor and nurse came to prep me. When the doc said I was ready, they wheeled in the embryos in this huge incubator. (Like what a baby would be in... it's crazy!) The embryologist and doctor use all this lingo back and forth, and then you get to see on the screen the little catheter that is making a little hole in the uterus. (It didn't hurt at all, although maybe I can thank the Valium for that.) Will watched the embryologist stick her hands through the little hand-holes in the incubator, (like she was handling a rare disease) and then put it in the catheter. (Will admitted he had a "oh crap, please don't drop it" moment.)  Then the doctor said "making the transfer!" and then, just like that, it was over. I lied there for another 15 minutes, and then they said I was free to stand up.  We did acupuncture again right after, and then we were free to go!  I've rested the rest of today, and I can't do anything strenuous for awhile. 

For us, we know that even if I have a positive test in 2 weeks, it'll be getting to hear the heartbeat that means things could be different this time. So we have 2 weeks until we find out if it's a positive test, and then another 2 after that to see if there's a heartbeat. (This also assumes we don't go completely insane during this period of waiting. The ladies in my amazing Sunday School class gave me a card and an activity to do each day of the Two-Week Wait. How adorable is that? I think I'm so excited for tomorrow just for that! What amazing friends we have. If I stay sane, I'll give them the credit entirely.) 

In the meantime, they try to make you feel like this isn't a complete scientific-experiment, and they give you your "baby's" first picture to dwell over. 

See that little white dot? Aren't those cells beautiful? :)

I don't have any clue how lucky the next 2-4 weeks will be for us. But I know today, as people texted us prayers, emojis, and well wishes; and as I held hands on our dating-versary with that same dude from the limo,  I felt pretty freaking lucky. 

Love,

Kendall and Will

Oh Happy Day.

We have news! 

As a recap:
27 embryos were harvested, and 16 made it to blastocysts! (For all of you that got a boyfriend during biology just to cheat off, blastocysts are baby embryos.) We were excited about that number! Five days later, those blastocysts were biopsied to send to genetic testing. The genetic testing results is what we were waiting for today. (This news is what has made us nervous all along.)

During the biopsy stage, we lost 6 embryos. The biopsies are sent to an embryonic testing lab in New Jersey. (Who knew Jersey people did more than "G.T.L."? And for all of you who know what "G.T.L." stands for, we all need to stop watching Jersey Shore and commit to classier television... like the Kardashians.) 

We knew losing 6 embryos during the biopsy stage was highly unusual. We were previously told that less than 1% of embryos die during biopsy. We were confused on why we lost so many during that stage, but frankly, we were so consumed with my health that the number of embryos took a back seat. When they told us we were down to 11 embryos after the biopsies, we were too exhausted to read too much into it. 

Well today we found out that out of the 11 embryos they biopsied, all 11 are genetically normal!
(insert cheers, applause, rainbows, and french horns) 

These results are also highly unusual. (ie: My doctor has never had a patient with 100% normal embryos.) The "average" Fertile Myrtle has around 10%-20% abnormal biopsied embryos. (Which is about the percentage chance of a "normal" person having a miscarriage.) For me, she prepared us to expect around 80% to come back abnormal. 

So what does this MEAN?

1) It means we had a LOT of people praying for us. I have no doubt God probably said "ok ok ok! Healthy embryos for Kendall Pace Monroe! Enough Already!" (But in a really nice Jesus-y way.) Thank you to all of you for your prayers, strong positive mojo, and lucky thoughts.

2) It means it's highly possible it's my uterus/body is the problem, rather than the embryos. From the very beginning we expected this could be the problem. I have had some health issues in the past, and it's possible this is just a side effect of those. Dr. McKenzie noticed my white blood cell counts have been very sporadic throughout my visits with her. This makes her think that it could be auto-immune related (and my body just attacks the pregnancy every time). We always kind of wondered this, given my history of auto-immune problems, so we are not surprised by this hypothesis. In attempt to remedy this, I will be on a drug immediately after the embryo transfer that often helps those in these situations. (You can't be on the drug before/during conception, so patients unfortunately have to do IVF just so the timing is exact when starting the drug immediately after the transfer.) 

If the transfer doesn't work, and/or I miscarry again, we will conclude that I can't carry and opt to use a gestational carrier. While these are very expensive, (although we have a loved one who has volunteered to carry), we are thankful that we know that, someday, we WILL have a child.
(insert squeals, giggles, and puppies)

3) Like previously mentioned, we learned that we had a pretty high rate of loss during the biopsy stage. It's possible that these type of embryos were the ones I was carrying during previous pregnancies. Because the embryos "died" during biopsy, we'll never know what the cause was. In past pregnancies, we were never able to hear a heartbeat. This leads us to think that I have always miscarried very early, similar to these embryos. They started off great, and then couldn't continue successfully. (Think Lindsay Lohan of embryos.) It's possible that this is why the genetic testing results were excellent, because the flawed embryos had "died" during the biopsy stage.  (Hopefully this means since we've eliminated those embryos and will only transfer healthy embryos, we will have much a higher chance for a healthy pregnancy.) 

Next Steps? 
First, like Kelly said, "Celebrate with wine tonight, cause it looks like vino won't be in your future!" (From her mouth to God's ears!)

So after that, we will continue on the plan of a transfer sometime at the end of March. (We should be on track to have a transfer then, if everything continues to go well during the next round of shots and meds throughout the next 1.5 months.)

IVF is a very schizophrenic process. We're up! We're down! We're up again! (Flashback to FSU National Championship.) But while there may be more downs in the future, for now, it sure is fun in the clouds!

Love to all,
Kendall and Will

Been There, Climbed That.

So turns out, we DID have to climb Mt. Everest. (Or at least Mount Kilimanjaro.) But we're back to base camp now, and we've survived! 

I don't know exactly where to begin, but after they removed the fluids on Thursday, I was told I would feel immediate relief and then I'd go home and sleep for 12 hours due to the meds. Well, they lied. I felt great for a few hours, and then I started feeling even worse than I did pre-surgery. That morning before surgery they said my blood counts were off, so they said post-surgery I'd need to start blood thinner shots for at least 10 days. (Hey grandpa! We have something in common!) Well after we did the shot, (what's with these people and the shots in the stomach?) I started feeling a LOT worse. Fearful it was something to do with my blood, we went straight to Methodist Hospital. Apparently no one gets sick during Houston's icepocalypse, so we were attended to quickly. My parents met us there, and after a few hours and more ultrasounds, I was unable to pass the dreaded "eat or drink while on IVs without vomiting" test, so had to be admitted. (We were able to do all of this without worrying about our two pups at home because of wonderful friends like Ashley and Kelly who knew we'd be worried about them and both offered to come and take care of them. Thank you Jesus for amazing friends who love your dogs, who are actually kinda hard to love.) 

After Methodist's docs finally got in touch with my IVF docs the next day, it was decided I couldn't be treated at Methodist because my IVF docs didn't have privileges there.  Long debacle later, I was seen by my doctors at Houston IVF who were able to get us back on track, feeling like I wasn't going to die at any moment. The fluid in my body was causing all my organs to become irritated and not perform like they should (ie: allowing me to drink water without vomiting.) Then, the dehydration caused my blood to get too thick and be at risk of blood clots, hence the shots. (It's like the pessimists' version of "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie".) Needless to say, we are now back at home and I'm feeling pretty good! I can walk upright, eat toast, drink liquids, and sleep without sitting up! 

The truth is, we know this wasn't close to being Mt. Everest. I was upset in the hospital and said "When will this end??" My parents laughed and said "It doesn't! You'll be back when your baby's fever is too high, or for a broken bone, or when your 28-yr-old daughter is admitted... " (Ha!) We know this is just one of many times when things may not go our way. Luckily this was something that could be handled in just a week or so. For that, we are so thankful. 

While this was one of the hardest weeks, we've been amazed at our friends' and family support. My Mom and Dad sat with us until the wee hours of the night. My mother in law sat with me when Will couldn't be there and helped make sure we asked the doctors all the right questions. Kate and Sarah brought dinner before they even knew we'd have a huge mountain to climb. Coatney brought over an ADORABLE box of yellow things for when we need our dose of sunshine. Kelly cooked a salty and protein filled dinner when she heard the doctors said salt helps alleviate the pain. My mom's best friend brought over Will's favorite food, to make sure he had his dose of TLC, too. Ashley was texting at 3am to ask for updates. Jessica and Treadway cried with me and sent pictures of puppies. (Does that ever NOT cheer someone up?) Laura was updating our sunday school class and then they all sent flowers. One of Will's best friends offered to blend up his dinner for me when he heard I was only on a liquid diet. (That's creativity!) I even had a best friend in Finland checking-in constantly and a sister on vacation in Jamaica calling for updates! (We like to ensure our prayers went international.)  SO many people have texted or called with their cheers of support or prayers of concern. I'm telling you... the love we've received has been incredible. I'm taken back by how friends can rally together when a mountain needs climbin'! Thank you to ALL of you. You helped us tremendously. Who knew you guys would come in handy so much?

One of my friends struggled for years to get pregnant and now has a precious son. She emailed me to tell me that those sleepless nights that people warn you about seem like a cakewalk after going through everything to get there. I like her attitude, and am looking forward to that cakewalk! (Also, God, since I DID have to endure this whole OHSS thing, can you go ahead and make my kid sleep through the night at a really young age? I'd appreciate that.) 

Here's to a week of not climbing!
Kendall and Will

ps. For those of you actually following this crazy cycle, we have 16 blastocysts! 27 were harvested, and 16 have made it to the "frozen" state. We'll get genetic results back on those 16 embryos in a couple of weeks. 

pss. To my biggest comfort buddies of all, thanks for being champs this week.

 Mom? You're taking a bath? I'll wait here the entire time. I think something is up. Oh- it's time to sleep? That's cool, too. I'll just hang out within 3 inches of your face in case ya need me.

I don't know what to do so I'll just crawl on Goldie's bed and hang extra close to her and she'll let me know if you need something.  

A Bump in the Road

Sometimes a bump in the road seems like more of a huge mountain. I'm not sure how to make the bump seem more like an anthill and less like Mt. Everest. (I think the answer is time. But since I can't control time, I don't like that answer.) 

After the harvest surgery, we've had a complication. I have severe OHSS, or Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome. We were told there was about a 1-3% chance this could happen before the process began, but of course we never dreamed it would happen to us. While I was being monitored during the stimulation shots, the doctor said my risk of OHSS increased some based on so many eggs forming in the ovaries. (Which we thought was a good thing!) I got on some additional medicine to help alleviate the risk of OHSS. We thought we were good to go.

After the surgery on Monday, I was in pain but the nurses said it was normal. As the days progressed, so did my pain. Vomiting, extended stomach, and not being able to sit-up or walk alone continued to get worse and worse. Today (Wednesday), we went back for an ultrasound and was told I have severe OHSS, which requires surgery. (This is what happened to Giuliana Rancic, for any E! watchers out there.) I check-in tomorrow for my meeting with the anesthesiologist at 8:30am, and then surgery will follow immediately after. 

OHSS is when pockets of fluid form around the organs. In simple terms, the ovaries were so enlarged that after the eggs were removed, they didn't want deflate so they started pulling fluid from the intestinal system. This causes fluid pockets to form around the intestines. This can be very dangerous to your organs, so it requires immediate surgery to remove the fluid if it reaches the "severe" stage. 

This new little "bump" has caused us to be pretty down, to say the least. Luckily we have amazing friends and family who have lifted us up with jokes, prayers, dinners, and trashy magazines. A "thank-you" to those who allow us to lean on them during these harder moments will never be enough. 

We will keep you updated on what comes next. This blog update seems to take 1-2 days to send out, so it's possible I'm home already and feel like Mt. Everest is in our rearview mirror! 

Love,
Kendall and Will

Harvested.

Welp, I've been harvested! Trigger shot went great on Saturday night, and we went in first thing yesterday morning for the surgery (Monday morning.) Everything went well, I'm just very glad it's over. I won't write a lot now because I was taught that if I don't have anything nice to say, to not say it all. I'm hoping I'll start to feel better physically very soon and will be a bit more optimistic about this process!

They were able to harvest 26 eggs which is really, really good. We got a call today that 17 were able to become embryos. We'll know in 5 days how many survived to become blastocysts (the next stage of an embryo), and then in 2 weeks we'll know the genetic results. Fingers crossed that as many survive as possible throughout each stage.

We will write more when we know more. Love to all!


Before photo:
(I won't show the after. It aint pretty.)