It was a Wednesday morning. I just knew. I had an old home pregnancy test in the drawer. I watched as the first line turned pink and then, as bright as the first one, there was the second one. We were pregnant! I knew I might never have this experience again, so I waited until Dominick got home from work that night to surprise him! With Deacon, we were together, waiting for that phone call. This time, I was the only one who knew! It was so exciting! It was also the longest 8 hours of my life! I had seen so many Pinterest pregnancy reveals, and I had so many ideas, but my creative mind was failing me. I was bursting at the seams to tell him! So, I went to Buy Buy Baby and bought the only “Big Brother” book they had. I had Deacon bring it to him when he got home from work. The look on his face told me that he was as shocked as I was.
“Are you serious? You’re pregnant?”
It was the craziest of emotions. We couldn’t believe it! We were pregnant, and we did it all on our own! Six years with not even so much as a scare, failed fertility treatments, and here we were, PREGNANT! I called my doctor the next morning to set up our first doctor appointment. – That’s when I realized that women who get pregnant naturally really get the shaft. Lol!
“Hello. I’d like to make an appointment with my doctor.
“Okay, what is this for?”
“Well, I think I’m pregnant.”
“Why do you think that?”
-Ummm.. “Well, I took a home pregnancy test, and, ummm, well, I missed my period.”
“Okay, we usually don’t see patients until they’re 8 or 9 weeks, so does January 3rd work?
“Oh, okay. Yeah, that’s good.”
“Okay. See you then.”
Dumbfounded. With IVF I would have already seen my doctor at least 12 times. Ha! So, we waited. Still in shock. We took pregnancy announcement pictures. We did everything I never thought I’d get to. We FaceTimed my sister first (of course), then our families. I text my closest friends. But that was it, because the rule is not to tell a lot of people before your 13th week. You know, just in case.
“JUST IN CASE”
It was a year ago today; December 19th. I knew the night before that something wasn’t right. I woke up Monday morning and all of my symptoms were gone. I waited until just after Dominick left for work and then I went to the bathroom. That’s when I knew that I had miscarried.
It’s hard to put in to words how the rest of that day, and week, went. I had never been an overly faithful person until God gave me Deacon when he did. I went to church, and believed, but it wasn’t until I knew exactly what He was doing with me, that I was completely faithful. So, it’s not that I wasn’t heartbroken, but I knew that He needed me to wait a little longer. The same reason that I had to wait for Deacon.
Now we knew that we could get pregnant on our own. We didn’t need InVitro, even though we still had our frozen embryo. So, we tried on our own. We tried for a year before we started to get discouraged. That’s when things got complicated. Do we continue on our own, knowing that we were able to get pregnant, or do we pay for another procedure? Ugh. They say after one year, and nothing, it’s time to see a doctor. So, we scheduled our appointment; September 20th. Back to the fertility doctor.
As I was walking up to the building there was a sign on the door. Like I do with everything, I snapped a picture of it. It was right then, in that instant, that I decided to document this round on social media. Not just my story, but a story of infertility.
Everything was a go to start as soon as possible. Our embryo was better quality than we had thought (and IT was still only 35 years old! YAY!) My bloodwork all came back healthy and ready. First, I started with a month of birth control pills, to closely monitor my cycle. After the birth control pills I started with the prenatal vitamins. Then, we added the nightly estrogen shot (right in the butt muscle) and the baby aspirin. Two weeks later, I added my daily dose of Medrol. Lastly, came the second nightly shot of progesterone. I was full of hormones! I had my hysteroscopy and mock transfer scheduled a few days before the procedure. Everything looked good. Then, on November 17th, we were scheduled for our embryo transfer. When we arrived we were shown to the room where the transfer would take place. The doctor met us and told us that our embryo was the best frozen embryo he’d seen; a 6-day hatching blastocyst! According to the doctor, it was “definitely going to be a boy or a girl!” 😉 The embryologist came in and shared the same excitement of the embryo! “The best quality we can ask for!” Dominick suited up and headed back in to the lab. The transfer was over in less than 10 minutes. They laid me back, reclined my legs up in the air, and there I waited. Forty-five long minutes.
Bed rest for 3 days with a two-year-old is tricky (thank goodness for moms and mother-in-laws .. and husbands 😘) and the two week wait was just as awful as the last time. Dr. Google became my best friend and my WORST enemy. “I feel a slight tinge on my left side, and I am 2 days post transfer of a 6 day hatched blastocyst” … search. “What foods can I eat to help with transfer implantation?” … search (You can really search anything on the internet). I became overly aware of EVERY sense in my body. I read every blog post, comment, and reply that I could find. I told everyone I was doing okay.
While I was on bed rest I developed the strangest craving for an Italian dressing that I think I’d had once in my life. I wanted it for lunch and dinner, with plain spinach leaves, every day. The smell of chicken made me sick. I was tired and I cringed at the thought of coffee. I knew it had worked! We were pregnant. But, I didn’t want to say anything yet. Then, the day after my birthday, I woke up, and all of my symptoms were gone, just like before. I tried to stay optimistic. On Thanksgiving I told my mom and my mother-in-law that I didn’t have a good feeling. The next morning I woke up really early and I took a home pregnancy test. It was negative. I was crushed. I text my sister. I waited until my official blood work results to tell anyone else, but I knew. 😔
Now I know why people wait until there is a lesser chance of a “just in case”. When I decided to share my story on Instagram, I never really thought that it wouldn’t work. Now, there was a social media world who had followed along with me and I had to tell them the outcome. It was hard.
I am still so faithful that God knows exactly what my life should look like. I struggle with the thought of getting pregnant on my own, in my late 30s. But, I know that if I am supposed to have another baby, God will make my “geriatric aged body” (yeah, that’s what they call us now) healthy and ready. Or, if He intended my momma heart to love solely on Deacon, and for Dominick, Deacon, and I to be an unbreakable trio, than that is where we’ll be. With our hearts completely full and beyond grateful! 💛
Still, my heart breaks everyday for the women who endure this struggle over and over and never get there positive. – I think and pray for you often, and I wish I could heal your breaking hearts.