sacred moments

Dear G,

Lately, I've been peppering my Facebook status updates with how much I love the fact that you love music. You are currently obsessed with the Fresh Beat Band. The minute you hear an FBB song or the intro to the song, you freeze, your face lights up, and you start grooving to the music. It's magical.

Anyone who knows me in real life knows how much I love music and how much I love to sing. Your Halmoni was a vocal major and has the voice of an angel. She's been singing solos at church and schools since she was a little girl. So, naturally, as soon as I could sing, she said I was ready to perform at anytime. I've spent almost all of my life singing in front of people...at school, at camp, at church, at noraebang, just about anywhere...and I love it. It's in my blood. And now, it seems, my dear son, that I've passed it on to you. It's in your blood.

But all of the stages I've been on pale in comparison to the special time we've share every night since you were born, when I sing you lullabies while you are falling asleep. It has become our sacred space. The other night, I sang while you, nestled in the crook of my arm, drank the last of your milk. All of the sudden, you handed me your sippy cup, sat up, touched my face and gave me the sweetest little kiss. It was our sacred little space. Our sacred little moment.

My little boy, you are growing up so fast. Though I wish I could freeze time, I'm really enjoying seeing your personality blossom and enjoying our sacred little moments together.

Love you so much.

Momma

the shot man returneth

So...I had a monitoring appointment on Saturday. All looked good, so we are a "go" for this cycle! My first injection was on Saturday evening.

In our fresh cycle two years ago, Mr. T. and I took an injections class. It's been two years, guys. So a couple of weeks ago, I called Mr. T. in a panic, asking if maybe he might want to take another injections class? He said, "Nope, I remember."

Uh........

So, on Saturday night, as I'm drawing up the injection into the syringe and putting a big-ass (pun totally intended) needle on it...I look over, expecting Mr. T. to look nervous. Nope. Totally not even interested in what is about to happen.

Actually, he's watching videos of J.Lin highlights (stop the Linsanity, someone!).

I was a little annoyed at this point...I mean, this guy is about to stick this big-ass needle in me, and all he can think about is basketball? So I made him youtube some videos on delestrogen injections. He found some totally useless videos on how to draw up the correct dosage and one of a nurse with really weird fake nails pretending to inject herself in the thigh.

"Aren't you nervous?" I asked.

"No," he replied.

"Am I making you nervous?"

"Uh, maybe," he said.

So, I just shut up and laid on the couch, and closed my eyes. And OW!

But it was over. I got my second injection last night and it totally did not hurt. I told Tom he did a great job, and then I proceeded to freak out a little bit, because what if it didn't go in intramuscularly?

I have issues, folks.

But the Shot Man is back! And he's lovin' it.

Bee-tee-dub...have you looked at the calendar lately? My transfer date is less than 2 weeks away. Huzzah!

[insert drama here]

So...you know how I shared that I was worried about my blase attitude in my last post? A lot if it had to do with not having to think about what we're doing as much as we did last time around. The decisions this time around didn't seem so monumental.

Until today.

My RE called and asked me whether we were planning to transfer one or two of the embryos. For some reason, when I talked to my nurse about the one versus two issue a couple of weeks ago, she said that Dr. G. would make me thaw both at the same time, but it was my choice to transfer one or two. For me, there was no decision to be made. Two. But Dr. G. said we could thaw one at a time.

Ack! Confusion and panic immediately set in as he was asking me for an answer.

Let me back up a minute. Yesterday, I was surfing an infertility forum and the topic of transferring one versus two embryos was at the very top. When I opened it, I read all of these opinions about the risks of multiples. Things that are not exclusive to multiple pregnancies and births, but certainly heightened by them. Things like premature labor and delivery, extensive NICU time, developmental delays, therapies, miscarriage, and neonatal death. These are things that I already knew about. Things I worried about when we transferred two embryos two years ago. Things that later haunted me with guilt because I had worried so much about actually being pregnant with twins and then raising twins, and then had to say goodbye to Eli.

And all of the fears and guilt resurfaced again.

But I know that God does not give us a spirit of fear or guilt, so I tried to think about how fun it would be to have twins. How doubly blessed we would be. How, even if we had challenges with pregnancy, labor, delivery and beyond, we would just love love love each child and how God has already fearfully and wonderfully made him/her. How God would have answered our hearts' desire to have three kids in one (well, I guess it's really two) fell swoop.

So when I talked to Dr. G. this morning, I felt my pulse start racing, my heart started aching with doubt, and I was unsure of everything all over again. I told him I am really concerned about the risks of having multiples. As soon as I said that, he said, "OK, so then I'll put you down for one."

"Well, what would you recommend?" I asked quickly, unsure of making such a decision just because of my fear of the risks of multiples.

He told me that if we transfer two, our likelihood of getting pregnant is 55-60%, but the likelihood of multiples is 25%. If we transfer one, our likelihood of getting pregnant is 35-40%, but the likelihood of multiples then goes down to 1%. [For the record, my clinic strongly encourages elective single embryo transfers, also known as eSET, because of the high risks of multiples pregnancies. Fertility clinics are notorious for their desire to keep their stats up, and ours is no exception, but I really value their stance on promoting the healthiest and safest pregnancies whenever possible.] I think he could feel my hesistancy, because he then added that, ultimately, that the implantation of either embryo is not contingent or affected by the act of transferring one or two.

In other words, if I can spin it a slightly different way, God knows which baby He's going to breath life into. If I transfer them both at one time, and if God is going to breath life into them both, then I'll have twins. Or He could choose to bring one or both Home with Him, and we won't get to know one or both here on earth. Likewise, I could transfer one this cycle and have a singleton (or be the 1% who has identical twins!), or not. And then transfer again and have another singleton, or not. The point is...God knows. He cares for us, our family, and each of our babies.

Of course, there are the practical, financial considerations. Since our insurance company only allows 3 IVF cycles per live birth, if we have two unsuccessful FETs, we only have one more shot at a fresh IVF cycle. And, despite our insurance coverage, we are still paying a considerable amount of money out of pocket for each cycle. On the flip side, if we do have multiples with any of the above-mentioned issues, we may have a lifetime of out of pocket expenses, like therapies and long-term hospital care.

All that to say, we are leaning towards transferring one. But we have a couple of weeks to let Dr. G. know that we've changed our minds. So please pray for wisdom and discernment for us. And, if you have any advice, please feel free to share!!!

hvd, hbd, and omg

Two years ago today, we started injections for our IVF cycle. Most romantic Valentine's Day ever. Mr. T. was telling one of our friends about how nervous he was injecting me the first time, and how I was yelling at him to just stick it in....and [OMG, I'm totally cracking up here by myself like a maniac] the whole conversation got all awkward because it just sounded...you know. HAHAHA!

Today...I took my last birth control pill, and that means we are officially off and running. I'm a little worried about my blase attitude toward this whole cycle. When I went in for my mock embryo transfer last Friday, the nurse asked me when my last AF started, and I couldn't remember and had to consult my calendar...which is such a change from two years ago, when I had every.single.freaking.detail.and.date emblazened in my mind. She laughed and said it's pretty common when the patient has a little one at home to care for...so...yeah, I'll chalk it up to that. She also said it's nice to have patients who are relaxed.

Well, lady...we'll talk again after we have these hormones injected and raging inside of me. :)

Anyhoodles...today, I get to celebrate Valentine's with my amazing husband, my answer-from-Heaven son, my lovely sister, and some dear friends. No flowers or chocolates (okay, maybe some Knock-You-Naked-Brownies a la Pioneer Woman that I made yesterday...not that I'm expecting to knock anyone naked...errrr...ummm...), just some good old quality time with some of my fave peeps in the world.

I'd also be remiss if I didn't wish my good-ol' home state of Arizona a happy 100th birthday! I know AZ has gotten a bad rap over some political stuff in the past, but it is a really lovely state with some very lovely people. We Arizonans love our state so much we even have an Arizona history unit every year in grade school. My favorite AZ history project ever was the relief map we made out of clay and got to paint in 2nd grade. But...I digress. And digress fantastically I did. :)

Anyway, HBD, Arizona, and a HVD to you all!

one step closer!

I'm not sure if I posted about this before...but as much as I love Shady Grove, I've been less than impressed with our financial counselor, both in our cycle with G and now in this FET cycle. Long story short, we are super fortunate to get some of our costs covered via insurance, but it is an HMO, and they require pre-authorization before we can proceed. I had called our financial counselor, whom we shall call Voldemort for the purposes of story-telling, back in November to make sure all our ducks were in a row this cycle, but she "forgot" to tell me that they needed new day 3 bloodwork first.

I'm going to be nice and give her the benefit of the doubt. But if I'm being totally honest with you, I think Voldemort forgot to contact them at all.

So, when I called a couple weeks ago, I was in straight-up panic mode because I thought we wouldn't be able to cycle right away. Fortunately, no thanks to Voldemort, my nurse was able to talk me down from the ledge and assure me that we could get the bloodwork and try to get everything approved in time for the procedures.

And we did it! I called the insurance company today because I totally do not trust Voldemort need to be an advocate for my own health care issues and it's all been approved. Hip hip hooray! Praise the Lord!

Of course, I called Voldemort just to make sure we're good to go, but she snapped at told me that there would be no way for her to know until Friday. In my humble opinion, people who deal with infertility patients should not be so rude. Actually, let me amend that...why do people have to be rude when they work in a service-oriented job? Or any job? Fortunately...I'm too happy and excited to let her get me down. But if we ever cycle again at SG, I'm requesting a new financial counselor!!!

We're getting closer!!! YAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!

hang on, babies...

We're comin'!!! And we're going to bring you home for good on March 6.

That's right, aunties and uncles...my itty bitty embabies are coming home in 5 1/2 weeks!!!

Until then, I'm asking them to chill out. Har  har.

So yeah. This is all very public. It's a little new to me, because I had this blog password protected in our cycle for G, so while it wasn't completely private, it wasn't entirely public either. As in...I have no idea who is reading this blog. And I have no idea who knows me in real life is reading this blog.

Out yourselves, please! Haha...just kidding (sort of)....(sort of just kidding about the just kidding)...uh...yeah.

Anyway, I've been going back and forth about making these posts private until after the cycle (including the beta, i.e. official pregnancy test) or even maybe the first trimester (if we're so lucky to be pregnant again) or just not posting at all.

Because this is all just out there.

And that is a little freaky.

Because, you guys, I could not be pregnant at the end of all this, and you're going to have to witness the train-wreck of emotions that might emerge.

Or...you guys...I could actually be pregnant at the end of all this, and I'm going to have to sit on pins and needles praying that I don't miscarry (publicly, anyway) and trusting in the goodness of your hearts to not spill the beans to my employer before I do. Or out me in front of people thinking that it's public public. Or out me on Facebook. (Oh....Facebook.)

But...and this is a major but...you all have been walking with me. And I lurve you all for supporting and praying for me. And I need your support and prayers. If this journey has taught us anything, it is that we are so blessed with a great community. And we. need. you.

We need you to pray with us, to cheer us on, to cry with us, and rejoice with us.

So...can I just ask you a favor? If you know me in real life or on Facebook...could you just send me a private email or call me on the phone if you want to know what's going on or talk about it all, and not out me before I'm *ready*? I mean, if you want to stalk in silence, I'm ok with that, but please just don't talk about me without me. :)

Thanks.

I love you all. A lot.

Yay!

waiting rooms

It was so unreal to sit in our RE's waiting room this morning. Again. For the first time in almost two years.

One unspoken rule of waiting in an RE's office (at least in the DC area) is you shouldn't look around. Avert eye-contact. Look at your phone, the TV, a magazine, your feet. But don't look at the people in the waiting room.

Because it's really hard to be sitting in there.

You want to be invisible.

You don't want anyone to know you're there.

Because, even though you know that everyone else there is there for the same reason, it can be sad, humiliating, shameful, lonely, isolating, and, did I mention?, sad to be sitting there.

Just waiting.

Waiting for people to poke and prod you. Waiting for your hormone levels to be perfect, and your follicles to grow nice and big. Waiting to get a phone call from your nurse saying, "Congratulations! You're pregnant!"

Waiting for the waiting to be over. Finally. Already.

This morning, though, I wanted to go and hug each and every one of the women waiting with me. I couldn't help but look around and feel sad with them. Some of them were keeping busy with phones and magazines. Others were looking at their hands at their hands. Others, lost in thought, and staring off into the distance. I didn't pity them. No, I just felt sad. Because I know how hard it is. Fortunately, for me, in many ways, that is has become a was. Because I now know that, had I not gone through that painful time of waiting, I wouldn't know the joy of being G's momma. And what an absolute JOY it is!

But...let's face the facts: I am back in the waiting room. And that is is still an is in other ways. Because it is hard not knowing if our family is complete. And it is hard wondering if G will have a forever friend in a sibling on earth or will have to (or, would that be a "get to"?) be my only earthly baby. And it is hard, thinking about those very painful, dark days when we were in the throes of our infertility battle.

I couldn't help but notice this morning how remarkably different that waiting looked to me this morning, two years, and some beautiful babies later. Not necessarily less sad; but more hopeful. And I guess that's where my heart is today. The sad: it's not gone. I don't think it ever will be. But I'm okay with that; the sad made me a better person in the end.

Because it taught me that Jesus redeems our pain.

Not through a baby.

Not through happy thoughts.

And, sometimes, not for a long time.

But He does, in His own, beautiful, mysterious way. He redeems it. He is continuing to redeem it. And He takes that sad thread, weaves it with a thread of hope, and continues to make a beautiful masterpiece of my life.

So here it is. The waiting room. Except this time, I'm trying hard to not wait on my own desires, but truly wait on the Lord.

I'm ready I think, I pray, I hope Lord. I'm ready to wait again. With great hope. In You.