In April of 2008 my father passed away. He seemed to have been doing well, we were joking around with him that morning as he was heading to surgery. That evening after a long day of trying to stay alive my father finally found peace. The rest of us were only just starting out with our fight. It was a fight for understanding, acceptance and the ability to move forward. In late May I had another transfer and was waiting to find out the results. In the first week of June I found that I was pregnant. A week later my grandmother (dad’s mom) passed away and two days later I miscarried. With so much loss and heartbreak, I wasn’t sure I could even see five minutes ahead of me, let alone see any further into the future. I was hurt and unable to put into words how hurt I was. I’m not sure if I can even express all that I was feeling then except to say that I was numb and it was almost like being in shock. I would think about all that had happened. All of the loss was foremost on my mind, but out of habit maybe I had to start looking towards my next goal. Sometimes my next goal was getting showered, writing thank you notes to all of the people who had so lovingly sent their condolences, or even just getting up in the morning or afternoon as it sometimes was. Once I was getting up on a regular basis and getting work done and generally just being productive again, I started to look towards the next step. For me the next step in my life was again trying to have children, so I went back to the doctor and planned another transfer and retrieval.
We tweaked some of my meds, did egg retrieval and a transfer about six days later. I was still a bit numb and afraid to expect anything positive at this point. Fortunately for me, hope springs eternal as they say. I have always had hope no matter what the situation or circumstances. In this case my hopes came true. I found out I was pregnant and refused to expect to go to term. By the time I was 8 weeks pregnant I had four doctors: the perinatologist, my OB/GYN, my endocrinologist and of course my fertility specialist. I was visiting doctors at least 2 times per week. All the doctors told me everything looked normal and I was doing exceptionally well. I still had a hard time connecting with my child. I was afraid to talk to her/him because history told me it would not last. I hoped and prayed that everything would be ok. Once we made it to 20 weeks I was sure everything was great because we made it to the half-way mark. At half way through week 22 I started to feel some odd pains. I mean come on now let’s face it, for those of us who have never made it this far in a pregnancy before, they are all odd pains. Well I went to the doctor’s office and everything seemed fine. About 12 hours later I was on my way to the hospital. Apparently I was in labor. An ultrasound showed that I was too far along to stop anything and the baby’s heart beat was erratic. They didn’t expect her to be born alive.
After another 10 hours of amazing adventurous experiences in the labor and delivery process, I heard the most joyous sound ever made. My daughter cried. When she was handed to me I saw how small she was. She was beautiful and struggled through every minute she was with us trying to breathe. She lost her fight not even one hour later. I am so thankful that we had the chance to meet her and hold her and tell her how much we loved her. I felt her love too and am incredibly thankful for that as well. Most of the doctors and nurses that day could not understand that I was happy to have had the opportunity to meet my precious baby girl. The expected the grief to override all other feelings. How could I let grief hang over such a glorious moment?
It took a long time to come to terms with our loss, deal with our anger, frustration and hurt. I’m still not over it but I can continue with my life and do more than I was doing simply because she’ll never have the option to do the things I can.
We tried once more IVF transfer. That too, ended in miscarriage and D & C. We are currently in month 12 of our year off. I’m thinking maybe a few more months and some more pounds before we try again.
When I ask how deep your well is, what I’m referring to is your well of hope and expectation. How passionate is your dream to have children? What are you willing to do? What will you do? Once you have your diagnosis from your doctor, do you say that’s it I’m infertile I can’t have kids so forget it? Are you the type of person to walk away from all that you can have simply because it’s too hard or someone said you can’t do it? I’m not. The way I see it – you can still have kids no matter what. If you have a uterus but no ovaries, you can get the eggs from someone else. If you have no uterus but still have ovaries you can have your eggs (embryos actually) put into what I call the royalty of babysitters a surrogate. Don’t have either – someone else can donate eggs and a uterus in what is the ultra royalty of babysitting; a gestational carrier and donor. There are so many options out there in this day and age and if none of these strike your fancy there is always the option to adopt a child who needs someone to care for and love them not just in words but action too. Dig your well and see where it takes you.
In my heart I know that I will one day have children at home to love and care for. I am still working hard to make that a reality.
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