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.)
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Thursday, June 5, 2014
"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.
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.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Dear Future Self
Dear Future Self,
One day you are going to be reading your baby's book, and come across this blog. (Maybe it'll be printed out in a baby book, or maybe by then, your baby will be given an iPad with his birth certificate and this is still electronic. Either way, continue reading.) If you're anything like you are now, you will forget a lot of the lessons you've learned promptly after learning them. So I want to remind you of a couple things, just to be sure you never forget.
1. Remember the power of friendship. When you know someone is going through a hard time, remember to mail that card or send that text or bring over the dinner or show up to take them out for drinks. That person will never forget what you did or said or how that support made them feel. Also remember that a glass of wine really helps the soul.
2. Remember that someday when you tell people you're expecting baby number three, it's possible that the news may make their heart skip a beat. However, just because they're fighting for a baby of their own, doesn't mean they aren't overjoyed for you. Remember that you were always elated for every friend or family member or colleague that told you they were pregnant during your journey. While it may remind that person of his/her own sadness, they are happy for you, just like you were happy for all your loved ones who grew their family before you could. The mind is weird like that; it can long for what someone has, but also be SO FREAKING PUMPED that their loved one has it.
3. When you have changed far more diapers and made far more bottles than him one day, remember your husband is your best friend. Remember the days he talked you through tears after something happened to trigger emotions of sadness or hopelessness of the future. Remember the days when he held your hand even tighter than he did during the FSU National Championship game. Remember the days your husband entertained your ideas of possibly not having kids, but then reminded you that he thinks this is a battle worth continuing. Remember the days he lifted you off the ground (only sometimes literally) and got you through the day. Remember the days your husband never missed one of the gazillion doctors appointments and kept your medicine more in order than you ever could. Remember the times you both laughed as you reminisced over the days where you used to care about the gender of the baby, and how you both could care less now. Remember the days your husband went gluten-free with you, because there was a small chance that could help lower miscarriage rates. Remember all of these things during your most sleep-deprived nights, when he is snoring and a baby is screaming.
4. Sometimes people say things without thinking. Cut those people some slack.
Someone recently said to you, "Oh yes- I know exactly what you're going through. We had to almost see a fertility specialist after a few months of trying without getting pregnant. It was awful." That comment made you feel so isolated and angry. However, you had to be reminded that the person was trying to say, "I remember how heartbroken I was after unsuccessfully getting pregnant a couple of times, so I'm trying to relate to you because I love you."
Or when people have said, "You can always adopt!" and you've wanted to yell, "You have no idea about the process of adoption. You have no idea about those hurdles or the wait list. You have no idea about any of this!" Instead, you've had to learn that those people meant, "I have hope in your future."
So, future self, remember to cut people some slack when they say the wrong things. Chances are their hearts are in the right place. (And let's admit it, you have needed some slack given to you on some not-so-smart things you've said.)
5. Remember it's ok to be heartbroken. It's a lesson you're having some trouble learning. You've mastered how to be angry and confused. You've learned how to move forward and you've learned how to focus on hopeful things. You're beginning to understand that it's ok to admit that you're just plain sad, but it's still a tough reality for you to face. Like your favorite blogger 'Momastry' wrote, "Sometimes it's hard to be blue because you know you're supposed to be grateful for all you have. But please don't tell yourself you can't be sad because someone somewhere is sadder unless you're also going to refuse to be happy because somebody somewhere is happier." So, future self, remember that the beauty of being brokenhearted is that your heart will be put back together again. No one stays broken forever. And if you've learned anything from all your trips antique shopping with your mother, it's that the cracks and warps and stains are what make it beautiful.
Most of all, future self, remember that life got really hard; but remember that you got through it.
Love,
You
One day you are going to be reading your baby's book, and come across this blog. (Maybe it'll be printed out in a baby book, or maybe by then, your baby will be given an iPad with his birth certificate and this is still electronic. Either way, continue reading.) If you're anything like you are now, you will forget a lot of the lessons you've learned promptly after learning them. So I want to remind you of a couple things, just to be sure you never forget.
1. Remember the power of friendship. When you know someone is going through a hard time, remember to mail that card or send that text or bring over the dinner or show up to take them out for drinks. That person will never forget what you did or said or how that support made them feel. Also remember that a glass of wine really helps the soul.
2. Remember that someday when you tell people you're expecting baby number three, it's possible that the news may make their heart skip a beat. However, just because they're fighting for a baby of their own, doesn't mean they aren't overjoyed for you. Remember that you were always elated for every friend or family member or colleague that told you they were pregnant during your journey. While it may remind that person of his/her own sadness, they are happy for you, just like you were happy for all your loved ones who grew their family before you could. The mind is weird like that; it can long for what someone has, but also be SO FREAKING PUMPED that their loved one has it.
3. When you have changed far more diapers and made far more bottles than him one day, remember your husband is your best friend. Remember the days he talked you through tears after something happened to trigger emotions of sadness or hopelessness of the future. Remember the days when he held your hand even tighter than he did during the FSU National Championship game. Remember the days your husband entertained your ideas of possibly not having kids, but then reminded you that he thinks this is a battle worth continuing. Remember the days he lifted you off the ground (only sometimes literally) and got you through the day. Remember the days your husband never missed one of the gazillion doctors appointments and kept your medicine more in order than you ever could. Remember the times you both laughed as you reminisced over the days where you used to care about the gender of the baby, and how you both could care less now. Remember the days your husband went gluten-free with you, because there was a small chance that could help lower miscarriage rates. Remember all of these things during your most sleep-deprived nights, when he is snoring and a baby is screaming.
4. Sometimes people say things without thinking. Cut those people some slack.
Someone recently said to you, "Oh yes- I know exactly what you're going through. We had to almost see a fertility specialist after a few months of trying without getting pregnant. It was awful." That comment made you feel so isolated and angry. However, you had to be reminded that the person was trying to say, "I remember how heartbroken I was after unsuccessfully getting pregnant a couple of times, so I'm trying to relate to you because I love you."
Or when people have said, "You can always adopt!" and you've wanted to yell, "You have no idea about the process of adoption. You have no idea about those hurdles or the wait list. You have no idea about any of this!" Instead, you've had to learn that those people meant, "I have hope in your future."
So, future self, remember to cut people some slack when they say the wrong things. Chances are their hearts are in the right place. (And let's admit it, you have needed some slack given to you on some not-so-smart things you've said.)
5. Remember it's ok to be heartbroken. It's a lesson you're having some trouble learning. You've mastered how to be angry and confused. You've learned how to move forward and you've learned how to focus on hopeful things. You're beginning to understand that it's ok to admit that you're just plain sad, but it's still a tough reality for you to face. Like your favorite blogger 'Momastry' wrote, "Sometimes it's hard to be blue because you know you're supposed to be grateful for all you have. But please don't tell yourself you can't be sad because someone somewhere is sadder unless you're also going to refuse to be happy because somebody somewhere is happier." So, future self, remember that the beauty of being brokenhearted is that your heart will be put back together again. No one stays broken forever. And if you've learned anything from all your trips antique shopping with your mother, it's that the cracks and warps and stains are what make it beautiful.
Most of all, future self, remember that life got really hard; but remember that you got through it.
Love,
You
Monday, April 14, 2014
Fertility Treatments: The Next Hunger Games
We went back to see the doctor today after a long phone conference with her on Friday. Today it was confirmed that there is no heartbeat, and the embryo has stopped growing. This will result in another miscarriage.
I don't really have much to say. We thought with guaranteed good embryos, with constant monitoring of my blood and hormone levels, and with drugs to combat any autoimmune disorder, that we had dotted our i's and crossed our t's. We feel disappointed and sad and confused and sad and angry and sad and frustrated and sad.
Our doctor spoke with us for a long time this morning, explaining different options. Although there is nothing we can do differently next time, she encouraged us to try again using our remaining good embryos. This way we'll know for sure that it wasn't just some random fluke, but that it's definitely an issue with me carrying. Moving straight to a gestational carrier is a big jump, (physically, emotionally, and financially) so we want to be certain we have exhausted all chances before going that route. Then, after a failed "next time", we will move forward with a gestational carrier. (If we go that route, we have decided not to use someone we know and love, but to go with a third party surrogacy carrier, for a variety of different reasons that I won't get into.)
During this process, we have "beat the odds" in the most negative ways possible. If there was a "very slight risk" of something happening, then it probably happened. If there was a 95% chance something should happen, then it probably didn't. Next time we do this, we've been told that there is a "slight chance" that the results will be different. (About 5% chance) But since we have been the 1 in 100 on all of the other things, we think we'll make those odds work for us this time! (I dressed up as Katniss Everdeen during opening night of The Hunger Games, and if she can beat the odds, so can we.)
Like Effie Trinket says, "May the Odds Be Ever In Your Favor."
Love to all,
Kendall and Will
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
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
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
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
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. :))
"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. :))
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
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
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