Wow! It's been almost 3 weeks since my last post. Here are my top excuses:
1. I'm a teacher and the end of the school year gets muy loco, I also am teaching a graduate class and an online Spanish course. Oh ya, I run prom too (here's my BIL, sista, me, and Darren chaperoning our hearts out)
2. As mentioned, we are on an official break which means there is very little to update. Although I've been enjoying my runs/gym time, my guilt-free Starbucks, and more spontaneous sex, I've been baby-making obsessed for over 3 years-that doesn't just shut off. I still feel that first sting when I see a pregnant person, I still cringe at new announcements, I still roll my eyes during diaper commercials, and I still think about Jude and Brinly every breath; and the desire to someday hold their siblings is with me every single second of the day. First official month of "not trying to try" but I still question if I'm ovulating in my brain- although I didn't do any ovulation predicting kits, I'm 99% sure I ovulated on cycle day 18 (I've read this is common to ovulate on your own the month or two after stopping femara). With that said, I'm 100% sure I'm not pregnant because of A. negative test 12 dpo and B. insane cramps. No surprise here. I've accepted that unless some miracle randomly occurs, me becoming pregnant lies in our frozen embies on ice.
Holly, when do you plan to go after the embryos you may be asking? The answer? It's a little complicado. I am full of anxiety even thinking about how many to transfer and needles and hospital. The specialist recommends 1, the RE 2. My track record (with all great 5 day blasts) is as follows. First IVF transferred 2-1 implanted but early miscarriage; 2nd FET 2 transferred, nothing stuck. 3rd IVF transferred 3, all 3 implanted and had heartbeats, middle baby B miscarried at 9 weeks and J and B lived healthy little fetus lives till @$@#%@%@ (notice my extra long bad word) hit the fan and I lost them both. So that is 2 for 7. 5 were probably abnormal to miscarry/arrest. So do I really want to go through 1 at a time with each transfer about $3,000 a pop and tons of injections? BUT, I was told that I should NEVER carry twins. If both implanted, I would be 100% horrified that I would pProm again and kill my children. Whenever we drive by OHSU I do still manage to shout out really really loud (partly to annoy Darren) "Hi little frozen babies!! I love you! I miss you!" I've said this before but the day I said "I do" to Darren I never IMAGINED I would be yelling hello to our frozen children every time we were in Portland.
On a second note, my younger sister Heidi is 19 weeks pregnant with her 2nd child. She got pregnant the first month she tried. Again. I would be lying if that initial announcement didn't kick me in the gut, make me sob, and force me question my faith once again. Why would God allow something so horrible to happen to me, while making the same thing so easy for her? I avoid pregnant women like the plague to protect myself but no way on earth would I avoid Heidi. I would NEVER wish infertility on her, my best friend, my own flesh and blood, BUT, I wouldn't have minded if it took them the normal 3-6 months (and for the record I think even she was surprised they were lucky enough for another 1st month). It blows my mind that 2 sisters can have such extremely different reproductive systems. It's not her fault her uterus is amazing and it's not my fault mine sucks.
Before my loss of J and B, I had mastered the "happy for them, sad for me" concept. But since their loss, I've changed a bit. In this dark season of my life, I'm mainly just sad for me in all things pregnancy related. For us. The voice of the women that have fought so hard and still have empty arms. It's selfish but it's truthful.
I had to let go of being the oldest daughter and not giving my parent's their first grandchild. When I was in the mist of our first IVF Heidi gave birth to Ryker. With the bite of the pink cupcake I also swallowed the fact that I will not be the first child to give my parents a living granddaughter. Minor, small, I know, in the big scheme of things, but still, until that bite it was something I could think "well maybe I'll at least have the first girl." It's nothing new to me that life isn't always fair, that things don't always go as planned. I accept it. I accept, even in my pain and bitterness and sorrow, that He knows better. That the heart of God is kind and gentle and purposeful although in the valley I mainly just see dark. I asked Heidi if I could throw her shower-the first shower I attend after the loss might as well be their sweet little cousin's. I will love that little girl the way I love her son. But, good Lord, I so wish my kids were here to play with hers. And she wishes that too. And so does her husband and my husband. And so does my mom. And my dad. And my brother. And all those that love us and care for us and are rooting for us. I love all my nieces and nephews, but they are not mine. They cry for their own mommy when they need something.
On the way home from the "reveal" party we were pretty quiet. This sadness doesn't come from Heidi's pregnancy, it comes from the remembering of our own gender reveal celebration and loss. I didn't cry. Then Darren randomly asks me "Do you think losing Brinly and Jude has changed your personality?" This threw me off a bit ("has my personality changed?" I quickly ask myself). I paused for a long time. Then said, "No, I still feel like I'm me, but I'm a lot more cynical....Do you feel like it's changed yours?" He replies, "I don't feel like have as much joy about things any more." Darren is the stronger/stable one in our relationship. He rarely discuses the loss and to hear him say this, made my heart feel extra sad. Jude and Brinly's dad has loss so much too.
Through all our pain, I at least have had my eyes open to the other pain and suffering around me. When bad things happen to people I know, I feel it a little deeper. Empathy. Sorrow. Compassion. Although the pain/scar of J and B will always be there, the fix will be someday, somehow, somewhere be when I meet their siblings. Like I mentioned in a previous post, I bought J and B and book called My Love Will Find You around the 9 week mark. That love is stronger than ever because I looked in my child's face and knew we couldn't quit. And I pray that God makes things right. In my scattered prayers I ask, just like He says, that He will make beauty from ashes. My. Love. Will. Find. Them.