A Story of Miracles, Loss, Heartache & Hope: Our Journey through IVF - Part 8

There are so many things that I am so very thankful for, and I want to mention those things as well.

I am thankful for my husband. I often forget that he walks through these struggles at the same time I do, and while he expresses his feelings very differently than I do, I know he hurts too. He is such a support to me and is usually the first one willing to get back on the horse after we have been through a failed cycle. He encourages me and jokes with me and keeps my spirits high. When I’m all crazy from the hormone injections, he takes most of my griping and mood swings in stride. While we have definitely had our moments of stress, he’s always there to hold my hand, even if I forget to hold his. He is a great father and husband and we’re in it for the long haul together, no matter what obstacles we have to cross on our way.

I’m thankful for my daughter. Looking at her keeps me going every day. It’s because I feel so incredibly blessed to have her that it makes me want to have another one. She has wiped away more tears than anyone has. I can remember sitting on the kitchen floor crying after a phone call from the doctor’s office, and she came and sat in my lap and said, “Mommy, you sad?”And after wiping away my tears, she said, “all better.” Yes, she makes it all better. The best cure for my repeated broken heart is to hold my girl tight and snuggle with her. I am forever grateful that I have her. I know there are many people who suffer through infertility and never get to have a biological child of their own, and I don’t pretend to know how that would feel. No matter what happens, I have Tessa and she makes every day worth it. I love her with a love that I never thought I could experience. She has her mommy’s sass and her daddy’s love of music, her mommy’s ability to jabber nonstop and her daddy’s wild and craziness. She is the best parts of both of us. She is spunky, loving, sensitive, energetic and sweet. She is perfect.

I’m thankful for my parents. Not only have they been a huge financial support to us this year, but more so an emotional one. It’s hard to watch your child suffer over and over again and I’m thankful for all they have to help me and our family. I have appreciated the shopping trips, dinners out and dinners brought over, phone calls when I’m in tears over another announced pregnancy, and never-ending prayers for us to get all that our hearts have dreamed of. I know they will continue to be there for us to support us in all that we do and to help us achieve our dreams in any way they can.

I’m thankful for the rest of my family: my sisters and their families, David’s parents and my brother in laws and sister in laws on his side. Most of all I have appreciated their prayers and emotional support as I know they want this for us as much as we do. They have been my babysitters when I had appointments and food support when I needed a pick-me-up. Family is family and I know that they hurt along with you.

I’m thankful for my small group and church family. We have shared it all with our small group and they continue to pray for us week in and week out. They are there to bring us dinner when I’m resting after a transfer and cry with us when it failed again. There have been many people in our church family who we have shared our story with and who have prayed for us and are there to offer hugs and be there to do whatever we need. They are the extension of God’s hands to us in a physical way, as the church should be.

I’m thankful for my friends of all kinds. I have friends that are close to me and I’ve known for a long time, but who have a hard time understanding what we’re going through. It doesn’t matter, they are always supportive, willing to help when needed. They have offered to take Tessa off my hands so I can rest, bring food, take me out when I need a break or just sit with me when I need a friend. I have a friend who doesn’t live close, but has been through this stuff and is there to offer support. She sends me e-mails and cards with encouraging scripture verses that seems to speak to me in the moment I need it most. I never knew how much I would appreciate the support of having someone who’s been through this and made it to the other side. She and I have a very special bond. I have another friend who we went through this all together at the same time when I had Tessa, and she did it again but had success before our crazy year started. She and I spent so much time on the phone being there to vent with each other. Our stories may be a little different, but we get it, and I’m thankful to have her to talk to when I needed it. I also have a very special friend who I have gotten close with throughout the last year. She is my IVF friend and she and I are both still walking through it. Our texts and emails mean so much to me. It has often ended up that we cycle about the same time, and it’s so helpful to have someone walking with you side by side. We share so many of the same frustrations and struggles, and it’s so encouraging to know that I’m not alone. I’m not the only one that feels this way. I am so thankful for her every day.

I’m thankful for what I’ve learned about myself through this. I’ll admit, my life had been pretty cushy. I had never faced major trials, maybe they seemed it at the time, but in light of what I’ve been through in the last 3 years, it was miniscule. I’m stronger than I thought I was. I never imagined I could go through something like this. I used to look on people like me and pity them, always knowing that I couldn’t do it. But I can do it, and I do with God’s help. I’ve learned that my family is what’s most important to me. I’ve developed a pretty tough skin to people and their unwanted and unnecessary comments. Everyone’s going to have their own opinion and they are welcome to it, but I know what’s right for me and for my family. There are many ways in which I feel like I don’t like the person infertility turned me into, the anger, jealousy and bitterness, but that part comes in waves, usually riding the wave of an unsuccessful cycle. In the wake, I’m left with me, I believe in every person’s right and ability to pursue what they dream. I’ve learned not to ask people when they are going to have a baby, because you never know their story and how much pain that simple question might bring. I’ve learned not to take anything for granted. I’ve learned that dreams come in all shapes and sizes. Everyone dreams when they’re young of their perfect future and makes all their wonderful plans. Things don’t always work out how you imagine them, and that’s okay because despite our grandest ideas, God’s plan for us puts ours to shame. He knows what’s best for us.

I don’t know what the future holds for us. I know for sure that we have another FET that will be coming up in the next month or two. Pray for us. Pray for success. Pray for physical and emotional strength for David and I and Tessa and as we walk through this last step of this part of the journey. We want more than anything, for this last FET to be our success story, but if God chooses for this last transfer to not work, pray that we would have guidance as to what step to take next, more fertility treatments or move toward pursuing adoption. We believe with our whole hearts that God has another child waiting for us, we’re just still in the fog right now as to how that’s going to play out. We don’t have to worry about the future because we are loved by the One who holds the future. Our story isn’t finished yet, and for that, I’m thankful. I’m excited about the future, and nervous at the same time. God only gives you what He knows you can handle, and while there are times that I have wondered if He has overestimated my strength, I’m glad to know that He knew. He has pushed this control freak to her limit so that I have had no choice left but to rely on Him completely. When I feel like I’m falling and unable to continue, I know that He is holding me and He loves me.

Infertility is something that stays with you. I had hoped that after I had Tessa so many of the hurts and pains would go away, but it didn’t. The wounds do heal, but the scars remain. There are women who have been through it, women going through it, and women who are still waiting, and I know to those women it can seem daunting. I have my support from women who have been through it, and I have my support of someone going through it, and I hope that I can be support to someone who is still waiting or getting ready to start the process. You can do it on your own, but why would you want to. God gives us the trials, but He also gives us the ability to face those trials. Over the years, I have prayed and prayed and asked God to show me why it had to be me. I don’t understand it all, and I may never, but the one thing I feel He has spoken to me is that I face this trial so that I can learn from it and turn around and help someone else to needs it. I will take all the prayers we can get and it is my hope and prayer that I am able to help someone who needs someone to lean on. I’m excited to be able to continue sharing our story as it unfolds, because I’m thankful that our story doesn’t have an ending yet. God is good, all the time!

A Story of Miracles, Loss, Heartache & Hope: Our Journey through IVF - Part 7

With time, the hurt started to fade. It helped that the Christmas season was nearing close. There are few things I love more than Christmas trees and Christmas shopping and Christmas carols and Christmas cookies. I did my best to power through it. The hurt and pain would resurface at times I wouldn’t expect it, like when I went shopping for my mother-in-laws Christmas gift. I knew what I had wanted to get her, and it was going to be our way of announcing the pregnancy, but no, I had to change my plans now. I found myself crying every time I would hear Away in a Manger, Christmas always makes me emotional, thinking about God becoming flesh for us, but this year, the emotions were mixed with so much more. Then my birthday was approaching. Honestly, I love my birthday, I always have, but this year, I was dreading it. It was the due date of the baby I lost. I was hoping so badly to be pregnant again by the time this day rolled around, that hopefully it would help to absorb some of the sting, but no, that wasn’t in the cards for me. On top of that, a friend of mine was having her 20 week ultrasound on my birthday to find out the gender of her baby. She was great though, so sensitive, and offered to tell me the results on a different day if I thought it would be too much for me. I really do have great friends. Much to my surprise, my birthday came, and it was a great day. Tessa makes everything better. My family was wonderful, we had a great dinner out and cheesecake for dessert. A day I was dreading turned into a lovely memory. I was sad at times, yes, but it was outweighed by the way my family was such a blessing to me.

I knew I needed a break from the cycles. My body had flipped out on me. I was having anxiety attacks and feeling very down and depressed. I needed to step away from it for a while. I’m not sure if it was the medication or just my body’s protective reaction to all the pain it had experienced, I don’t know. I just know I couldn’t continue on without some healing time. We have two embryos left. Since he’ll transfer two at a time, this is the last of our FET cycles. If this next cycle doesn’t work, then we have some decisions to make. I’m sure my doctor gets annoyed with me, after every cycle, I question why it didn’t work and if there is something different that we can try. I question where there is something else wrong that we have missed. I question it all. His response is always the same, there’s about a 50/50 chance of it working every time. He gives me the coin analogy. If you flipped a coin four times and it came up heads every time, would you think there was something wrong with the coin? No, it’s just how it happens. So on one hand I feel like the odds are stacking up against me, four failed cycles, it’s not looking good for the last one. On the other hand, I think four failed cycles, with a supposed 50/50 chance, this next one has got to work. I have continued to deal with a lot of anger and frustration from this last cycle and all that we’ve gone through.

My mom told me something that has helped me so much. She heard this from a lady she works with who teaches a Bible study to young adult women. I’m paraphrasing a bit here and sharing what I got out of it most, but the idea was that you need to take your biggest hurts and frustrations and visualize wrapping it up in a beautiful gift box. Then, picture yourself walking up the stairs to God’s throne with your gift, reaching the top and handing it to Him. Now, it’s not polite to take a gift back after you’ve given away, and certainly you wouldn’t take back a gift you give to God, your Heavenly Father. Once you give it, you no longer have it and it’s not yours to worry about it. I have taken that to heart. Unfortunately, I haven’t mastered the not taking it back part, but I’m working on it. Almost daily, in my prayer time, I do that, I give that box back to the Lord. I give Him my hurt, pain, frustration, anger, worry, and fear about our situation. It’s a pretty big box, but I know nothing is too big for my God to handle. It helps me so much. Then, another day comes and those things start sneaking back into my life, and I have to do it all over again. Someday I want to be able to give it away and never take it back. I’m not there yet, but I’m working on it. I know that God has good and big plans for me.

During one of my harder times, David and I were talking and he shared with me a song that had been so inspiring for him. I had heard this song many times before, as it is on the same cd as my Faithful God song, but sometimes I get in a bit of a rut and can’t see outside of my box. I gave the song a listen and felt so uplifted by it. I’m so thankful David opened my eyes to it. It’s called You Are For Me and it’s by Gateway Worship:

So faithful
So constant
So loving and so true
So powerful in all you do
You fill me
You see me
You know my every move
You love for me to sing to you

I know that You are for me
I know that You are for me
I know that You will never
Forsake me in my weakness
I know that You have come now
Even if to write upon my heart
To remind me of who You are

So patient
So graceful
So merciful and true
So wonderful in all you do
You fill me
You see me
You know my every move
You love for me to sing to you

I love that part that says, “I know that you are for me, I know that you will never forsake me in my weakness.” So many times I need to be reminded that He is for me. He is on my side. There have been so many times that my flesh has battled in thinking that I am fighting against Him, like this is something I am fighting for, but He doesn’t want for me, so He’s fighting against me, but I have it all wrong. He is FOR me. He’s on my side. He’s fighting for me. Referring back to Desert Song, He is refining me through this flame, through this fire I’m walking through right now.

This is an ongoing struggle. There are issues that I battle with every day. I think I’m now currently up to 11 friends and family, all who are expecting babies anywhere from April to September. Each one is a little harder to hear about than the previous one. It’s not that I’m not happy for them and excited for them, I certainly am, I realize I may have a funny way of showing, but I really am. It is just another reminder of something I desperately want but can’t seem to attain.

I struggle with the battle of feeling like I am a bad mother because I keep going through this time after time. A little voice inside of me makes me feel so guilty telling me, isn’t Tessa enough? Why aren’t you happy with just her? I know it’s the devil trying to psyche me out. Tessa is my whole world and if she is my only child, then she is more than enough, (she certainly keeps me busy enough). I want another child for her as much as I do for myself. I know I’ve said it before, but I feel so blessed to have grown up with two sisters and I know how much better my life is because of them, and I want her to have that chance too.

Along with what I said before, I struggle so much with jealousy. One of my sisters and I run a business and one of the most popular things that we do is appliqued shirts, and of those, the most popular thing we sell is the Big Sis and Little Sis shirts. A little part of me hurts every time I have to make one, especially when the Big Sis shirt is a tiny size. It’s so hard for me, knowing that some people can have babies at the drop of a hat and often when they aren’t even trying for them. It’s often the little things that are a constant reminder to me.

I struggle often with the fear of what might happen if this next cycle doesn’t work. Am I going to be able to accept that? Even throughout all the failure and disappointment we have had in the last year, there has always been a glimmer of hope, because there is always the next cycle. What is the next one doesn’t work? How am I going to come to terms with it? I don’t know if we will physically, emotionally and financially be able to afford starting another cycle, so this very well could be my last shot at having another biological child of my own.

I also struggle so much with the feelings of failure. Not being able to conceive a child on our own often makes me feel like a failure as a wife, as a mother and as a woman. During every month that I wasn’t getting pregnant on my own (before Tessa) and after every failed cycle, I feel as though I have let David down. This is what I am supposed to be able to do as his wife, and I can’t. I hate letting him down. Then it puts into question my abilities as a mother. Why won’t these babies attach and stay in my body? I am their mother, why can’t I get them to stay with me? The question is always in my mind that maybe I have done something wrong in how I have raised Tessa and the way that I mother her, and that’s why I’m not being allowed to have another child. And it all falls back on my feelings of failure as a woman. God designed my body for this purpose, but I can’t fulfill it. With all of the pressures of society are me, when my body doesn’t do what it was made to do, it makes me feel like failure as a woman. Just as if when I had been teaching, if I had been unable to effectively teach my class so that they could learn what was necessary, I would have felt like a failure as teacher, because it is such a struggle to get pregnant, when it’s something I have been created to do, it makes me feel like a failure as a woman, a mother and a wife. However, like many of the other struggles I deal with on a daily basis, I know that these feelings are a spiritual attack on me, trying to get me to doubt God and the way that He made me. I have to fight back against the devil’s attacks and trust that God created David and I this way because He has a plan for us, a bigger one than what I can see with my limited human vision. God doesn’t make mistakes, and if He chose for David and I to fight this battle, there is a reason.

Lately we have more seriously been considering the idea of adoption. David has always wanted to adopt, long before we ever thought we would have to undergo fertility treatments of any kind, but it was never something I felt as strongly about. Over the last 6 months or so, my heart has really turned toward it. If this last cycle doesn’t work, we may start looking into adoption, or even if it does, maybe adopting a few years down the road. Not that adoption is an easy road by any means, I don’t know much about it except that it’s expensive and it can take a long time. There’s the decision of whether to adopt domestically or internationally, both have their own list of challenges. Then after all this is said and done, I go back to my feelings of frustration that I have to deal with all these issues in the first place. When it feels like everyone around me (with the exception of a couple of my infertility friends) can fill up their house with little ones the good old fashioned way and have them anytime they want. Why couldn’t that have been me? Then there’s the cost of it all. Having and raising children costs enough, why does it have to cost me so much just in an attempt to get one? It just seems so unjust.

But just when I think I can’t take it anymore and fill myself with pity and sorrow that I have to go through all this garbage, I look at my Tessa. I look at her and I am thankful for the pain and the stress and hurt that we went through, because without it, we wouldn’t have her. I wouldn’t trade it all in for anything. This time around it’s a little harder, because as of yet, I don’t have that sweet face to look at and say it was all worth it. If I had a guarantee in the end that no matter what we went through, someday, I will carry another baby, I would keep at no matter what. The scary part is that there is no guarantee. I could keep doing IVF for the next ten years and never get a baby, or I could stop after this next cycle and who knows, maybe the one after that would have worked.


It’s when I start to drift there that I have to go back to my Candyland board game. I may not know what direction my life is going to take, but God does, and I have to trust that He will lead me step and by step and whatever direction He takes me in, will be the right one, even if it’s different than what I thought was the right path. Trust me, that’s a lot easier to say than to do, and some days I believe it a lot more than I do others, but if I can’t believe that He loves me enough to take care of me and do what’s best for me, than what do I have to believe in. I’ve said it many times before, but I have been so blessed through music in all that we’ve been through. I just heard a song for the first time last week, David got the new Cari Jobe album and there was a song that just moved me, it’s called Steady my Heart:

Wish it could be easy
Why is life so messy
Why is pain a part of us
There are days I feel like
Nothing ever goes right
Sometimes it just hurts so much

But You’re here
You’re real
I know I can trust You

Even when it hurts
Even when its hard
Even when it all just falls apart
I will run to You
Cause I know that You are
Lover of my soul
Healer of my scars
You steady my heart
You steady my heart

I’m not gonna worry
I know that You got me
Right inside the palm of your hand
Each and every moment
What’s good and what get broken
Happens just the way that You plan

And I will run to You
You’re my refuge in Your arms
And I will sing to You
Cause of everything You are

You steady my heart
You steady my heart

Sometimes I feel like it’s all falling apart around me, but God is there to hold me in His hands. I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. Phil 4:13. There is no way I could have made it through this past year still standing on two feet if He weren’t holding me up throughout it all. He is my strength

A Story of Miracles, Loss, Heartache & Hope: Our Journey through IVF - Part 6

About 5 more weeks passed, and we felt like we were ready to start another cycle. This one was going to be it! I just knew it. I felt so good about it going into it. I decided to really do some things to prepare my body. I started up again going to the chiropractor on a regular basis, I started getting acupuncture, and I started seeing a massage therapist. I also had it figured out in my mind that according to our pattern, this one would have to work. It was going every other cycle. It worked with Tessa, then our first IVF try it didn’t work. Our first FET cycle worked, then we lost the baby, but it at least it was a positive test to begin with, then the next FET cycle was negative. According to the pattern, it had to work this time. That’s logical, right?

One added stressor to me during this cycle which wasn’t so prevalent during my other cycles were the pregnancies happening all around me. I had one other friend who was pregnant during my other cycles, but she had been through infertility treatments too, so there was a common bond shared there. But now, all of a sudden, I was getting friends and family member announcing pregnancies all around me. The people in my life that I was closer to, told me in person or over the phone, but many of them were Facebook announcements. I actually had to remove myself from Facebook, and I took a break for about 3 or 4 months because it seemed like every time I logged in, it was another announcement or newborn baby pictures or worse yet, someone complaining about their pregnancy, and I just couldn’t take it. Buh-bye, Facebook. The announcements that came in person or over the phone were the hardest. Oh a what challenge to compose myself enough to congratulate, then hang up the phone or walk away and cry for hours. It’s not that I wasn’t happy for them, I was, I really was. Blessings on anyone who doesn’t have to walk through what I have to in order to get a baby. It was just so hard because I want it so badly for myself. It’s just another reminder of how desperately I want another baby, but are still left wanting. It would bring back all the old frustrations of “why me?” Why do I have to go through this?

I know there are hundreds of thousands of trials that people go through that say the same thing, and I am thankful that I have been spared of those trials, but this is mine. Infertility is my “why me.” I fought off the battles of “what did I do wrong to deserve this?” Every new announcement brought me back to that same place. I have great friends and family members, and every person who told me in person or over the phone, would tell me with such sensitivity. But I got to the point where I dreaded hearing the word, “I know how hard this must be for to hear after all you’ve been through, but…” I don’t know what’s worse, the walking on eggshells around me or rejoicing for their good news. While I know someone who was ridiculously happy while delivering the news would hurt, the eggshells hurt too. Having a baby, for most people, is a wonderful thing and news that they are thrilled to share with someone else. I hate the fact that because of my infertility, it robs someone else of their joy. My situation spills over into other people’s lives too, and not necessarily in a good way. There’s just no easy way to face this situation. I appreciate my loving friends and their sensitivity and that they care enough about me to do what they think will hurt the least. For that, I love them.

This cycle was different for us because we decided to keep it to ourselves. There were a handful of people who knew about it, very few family and even fewer friends. It wasn’t that we didn’t want to tell people, but we were just so certain this time it would work, that we wanted to surprise our family and friends. We knew we’d be finding out after Thanksgiving, so we figured what a better Christmas surprise. By the time this cycle was over, I think I had 8 friends and family members who had announced they were expecting, I just wanted to be one of them. I even had it all planned out how we would announce it to David’s family on Christmas and to my extended family. We were so sure, so sure.

Anyway, the cycle went fine, same round of medications, same sick and gross feeling throughout. This was becoming old hat to me. I was a pro. This was my third FET and fourth treatment in the last 10 months. Everything was going well. I even had an acupuncturist come and do a treatment for me right before and right after our transfer. I felt so relaxed and at east about this one because I knew it would work. Surely we wouldn’t have to go through all this pain again. How much could one person bear? Like my last three transfers, I had that moment of intense prayer the second that I knew my babies were inside of me. I could feel myself willing them to dig in deep.

That next week, I spent every spare moment with my hands on my stomach praying and praying for these babies. These were my babies and I wanted to meet them. This was the week before Thanksgiving, so thankfully David had some time off of work so that he could be home to help with Tessa again. I tried not to lift her, as she is getting pretty big and I tried to relax whenever possible. About three days after the transfer I had a day of pretty sharp cramping, at first, I thought, oh no, this isn’t good. Then the next day it went away. I talked to my sister and my mom about it and read online and from everything I could gather, that was actually a good sign. Cramping a few days after the transfer was usually a sign of implantation.

I was really feeling like this one had worked. It also needs to be said that even at this stage, I felt very pregnant. Because of the nature of the fertility cycles, you have to take estrogen and progesterone supplement before and after your transfer. And if you are pregnant, then you have to stay on them for several weeks/months as your body is adjusting to producing the hormones on its own. So basically, these hormones are mimicking a pregnancy, and you have all the symptoms of early pregnancy. Yes, this happened with every cycle I did, and in my mind, I knew it was the medications that made me feel nauseous and tired and all those things that go with it. I knew that because I felt those things during the cycles that gave us a negative result. But it doesn’t help that your heart desperately wants it to work, so as much as I knew it was the medications making me feel that way, I couldn’t help but want to believe that it was because I was pregnant that I was feeling like this. After wanting it desperately for so long, your body starts to play tricks on you, and the sensible things that you know you should be believing in, don’t seem to matter. So here I am, sure from day one that this cycle was going to work, I had cramping for a day that stopped abruptly (from what I understood, attributed to implantation), plus I was tired, nauseous and feeling sensitive to smells, of course, it just keeps building it up in me that I must be pregnant. I decided not to take pregnancy tests during the week after this transfer. I thought it would make hearing “no” easier if I was prepared for it because I had been testing negative all week, but I learned from the last cycle that it didn’t make it easier, it just made me more stressed out and depressed during the week because I kept hearing “no” over and over again. So this time I decided not to take any tests.

My blood test came on Black Friday. No, I’m not a crazy Black Friday shopper, but I really wanted to try and keep my mind distracted, so that morning, my mom went up with me and we brought Tessa with us. I ran in, did my blood work, and the three of us went off shopping. I tried to enjoy my day, but it was hard, my mind was totally somewhere else. I jumped every time someone’s cell phone around me would ring. It wasn’t working, so we went home. The phone call came that afternoon, it was words I had heard before, “I’m sorry sweetie, it’s not good news.”

My heart dropped and once again, it felt like my world was crashing around me. How could this keep happening to me? I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t focus. Why? It’s not like I’m asking to win the lottery here, I want a baby. Something that it seems like every other person I know gets to have with no trouble at all. Why not me? I didn’t think I could handle this. I’m maxed out. I have nothing left. All the old questions come racing back. Does God care about me? Why is He putting me through all this pain? Why do I have to go through this? Why won’t it work? That weekend is a bit of a blur to me now. I remember my parents came over that night and brought us carry-outs from Chili’s because I couldn’t get off the couch to fix any dinner and I certainly wasn’t in any sort of condition to go out. I don’t think I slept much that night. I spent most of it laying in bed crying. I was angry and disappointed because it had failed again, and so sad for my babies. I was missing them fiercely. They were with Jesus now. His loving arms were surrounding them instead of being nestled inside of me. I know His arms were around me too, although I fought it that night because I was so angry and hurt, He still loved me enough to comfort me.


The next morning, my mom came and picked me up and took me shopping. I had needed some new winter clothes, but had put it off because it seemed silly to buy winter clothes when I was soon going to be pregnant and not able to wear them. Now here I was, not pregnant and in need of clothes. My mom knew there was nothing she could say to make me feel better, but she did what she could to try and cheer me up and take my mind off things. It didn’t make the hurt go away, and more than a few tears slipped from my eyes while in the stores, but she helped me in the best way she could. As a mother myself, I know that nothing hurts more than when your child is hurting. I knew the pain I was in, what I wasn’t numb to, at least, and I can only imagine how watching me have to go through this time and time again would cause her so much hurt and pain too. She was always strong for me.

I remember the next day, I went to church. I was supposed to do nursery that day, but I couldn’t. They found me a replacement. I wasn’t sure if I would even go to church, but I felt like I needed to. I was hurt and angry, but I knew I needed to be in church. I put Tessa in Sunday school and wen to service alone. David was leading worship, so it was just me. I sat in the back row, in the last seat. I wanted to be invisible. I wanted to sneak by without being noticed. I will never forget, a close friend of mine came in with her family. Her family was in visiting from out of state, and she didn’t see them very often at all. She turned around and saw that I was here. She left her seat, and came back by me. I figured she was going to give me a hug and head back to her family, but she came in, hugged me, and said that she just wanted to be with me, she didn’t want me to be alone. She wanted me to know she cared. I think I cried through the rest of the service. I couldn’t believe she cared enough to leave her family who she never sees to just sit with me, so I wouldn’t be alone. My friends are the greatest.

A Story of Miracles, Loss, Heartache & Hope: Our Journey through IVF - Part 5

We decided to start up our next cycle on July 31st, about six weeks after we returned home from Florida. I had a really hard time when this next cycle started. The medicines had a much stronger effect on me than I remembered them having that last cycle, of course, I was on a little different medications because of the timing of the last cycle. I really alienated myself for a while. I had some of my closest friends invite me to come to play dates with them and their little ones, and I couldn’t go. I tried to explain, but it was hard. It’s hard for someone to understand what you’re going through when it’s something to major and so personal at the same time, when they have no experience with it. I kinda holed up in my house for a few weeks. I had my IVF friend who was going through another cycle at the same time, and she and I kept in regular contact. She understood me well because she was taking the same medicines, just days apart from me. We figured we would end up with transfers about a week apart. I did find that I separated myself from others. I didn’t go back to school in the fall, I was so thrilled to get to stay home full time with my Tessa. This meant I was doing a cycle without having to race in for appointments before school and having those kind of restrictions. I figured this one would be low stress and should give us good results. I also decided that I was going to take the pregnancy tests at home again like I did before. Worked well for me last time, so why not?

We had our transfer on September 1st. I can remember laying on the table and having tears come to my eyes the moment my doctor said they had been placed because in that instant I was praying with everything I had within me, just like I had the last two times. When I knew the very second that my babies were inside of me, I had no thoughts in my mind except to pray for them. I prayed that they would find the right place to get comfy and cozy and grow for the next 9 months. After the transfers, they always have you lay and rest in the recovery room for about a half hour. Someone had told me before that it was good to laugh after a transfer, that it’s supposed to help. Who knows? But it’s worth a shot, right? So we pulled out my iphone and opened up Netflix and started watching an episode of The Office. Nothing like Steve Carell to lighten the mood. Then, the whole way home, I clutched my ultrasound picture of my little bubbles like it was gold. It was gold, to me. David took a couple days off work to help me out at home with Tessa, so I could take it easy and rest.

I took a test Friday morning, negative. Saturday morning, negative, as I knew it should be. That night we had the wedding of a friend to attend, and that was a nice distraction. Sunday morning, I was hoping for a positive, but still negative. Monday morning, I was really praying for it to change, but no. By Tuesday, I felt like it had to be, this was the day that it had turned positive the last cycle, but when it showed up “not pregnant” my heart dropped. I was started to get more and more discouraged by the day. I had one pregnancy test left, and I decided to use it up on Wednesday. I had been reading on all these message boards that so many people didn’t see positives until after their office blood tests, so I’m feeling like there is still hope. The “not pregnant” I saw on Wednesday morning kinda felt like the final nail in the coffin. I didn’t have any more tests, and I really didn’t want to buy any more. I didn’t want to see that message again. Friday morning was my blood test at the doctor’s office, and while a sliver of me was hopeful, the realist in me was not. After they drew the blood, I talked to the nurse. I explained I’d been taking tests all week, the last one was Wednesday and it was still negative and asked if I was likely to see a negative result today? Somberly, she nodded. She said that once in a while a positive will sneak through but the home tests are pretty accurate. The call came later that afternoon and she told me that the blood test confirmed what the home tests had told me, and that it was negative but the good news was that we still had 4 embryos frozen. Yes, I guess that was good news. It certainly wasn’t the good news I was hoping to hear.

Once again, the cycle repeats and I’m back in that dark, depressed place. It’s certainly not where I wanted to be, I would have loved to be able to let it roll off my back and not get to me, but I don’t know who could do that. There was so much that I didn’t understand. I would go through this with every cycle. I didn’t understand why it wasn’t working. It had been so easy with Tessa, but why the struggle now? I remember that Saturday morning, I was expecting a friend to come over. I had told her the day before about the cycle, she was waiting for the results, and she asked if she could just come over and sit with me. I didn’t do anything with myself, she’s an old friend, 1 of the 4 of us that are a close knit group, she wouldn’t care if I looked like garbage. The doorbell rang, and when I opened it, I found her, and was surprised that the other two that make up our group of four were standing at my door on a Saturday morning (left their own kids at home with their dads) and had in hand flowers, a card, a breakfast Danish, and a bag of Rolos. I stood there and cried as each one hugged me without saying many words, because there wasn’t much to say. They stayed and visited a few hours, and it meant so much me.

Amazingly, I managed to get myself to church the next day, even though I didn’t want to go. I think I cried through pretty much the whole service. It was a constant inner struggle with me because I wanted to be angry at God for making us go through this, but my heart knew that He was in control. There have been many days where my brain and my heart were telling me two different things. Then I would start to get afraid. I was afraid that if I let myself wander into being angry at God that surely He would punish me for that and never let me have another baby. I know that’s not how our God works, I knew that then, and I know that now, but it’s just another one of those struggles that I was facing on a daily basis. It was around this time that I got hooked on another song. Several songs from a particular cd in fact, but one this one spoke to me in particular during this struggle where I felt so lost that I didn’t know if I would ever find my way out. It is called Faithful God and is by Gateway Worship. David burned the cd for me, and like I did with Desert Song, I have listened to this cd pretty much nonstop since he gave it to me (with the exception of my break for Christmas music). It goes like this:

If I call will you come
When I cry, do you hear
I believe every tear
Is caught up by a faithful God
So I will cry until you come
Cast my cares into your arms
I can’t see past this storm
But I’m counting on a faithful God

Faithful God
You hold my life secure
All my days are yours
I believe
My God is like a fire defending me
Faithfully

I believe that you still heal
And demons still bow
I’m convinced that there is power
In trusting in a faithful God
So I will praise til you appear
Step your foot upon this shore
I declare that every foe
Is subject to my faithful God

Faithful God
You hold my life secure
All my days are yours
I believe
My God is like a fire defending me
Faithfully

I know that You are mine
And I am Yours, I am Yours
I know Your faithfulness
It will endure, it will endure

Even just writing those lyrics now brings me to tears. My God is a faithful God. The first verse is what speaks to me the most. It feels like the tears that I have cried over the last year could fill an ocean, but I know that my God knows. He knows every tear I have cried. And the last line of that verse is my life. I can’t see past this storm, but I’m trusting in a faithful God. Right now I’m in the middle of all this and I can’t see how I’m going to get past it or how I’m going to make it through. I take it one day at a time, and often one hour or one minute at a time, but God knows. He sees where I started and He knows where I’ll be ending. It makes me want to just close my eyes, reach out for His hand and let him walk me through. I have said numerous times throughout all these cycles that I wish I could just close my eyes, fall asleep and wake up when it’s all over, good result or bad result. There is so much stress and so much anxiety and fear when I’m going through this that I just want to skip it all. And while I know I can’t do that, I also know that I can take His hand and he can walk me through any storm. He spoke words and calmed the sea and I know I can trust in what He has promised me.

Several times over the last year, I have heard this old song on the radio (I don’t listen to the radio much, but it seems to play whenever I turn it on). I don’t know who it’s by or the rest of the lyrics, but the chorus goes:

Sometimes He calms the storm,
With a whisper, “peace be still”
He can settle any sea, but it doesn’t mean He will
Sometimes He holds us close
And lets the winds and waves go wild
Sometimes He calms the storm
And other times He calms His child

Again, another beautiful way of describing how I feel on a day to day basis. This is one of those times where He’s letting the winds and waves go wild, but all the more, He holds me close and takes care of me.

A Story of Miracles, Loss, Heartache & Hope: Our Journey through IVF - Part 4

I was left in a place that was so empty, I had nowhere else to turn except to the Lord. I’ll admit, it wasn’t always as easy as it sounds. As much as I knew I needed to just keep praising the Lord through it all, I was angry. That week, during our chapel service at school, one of the pastors played a worship song that I had sung so many times before, but it had such a new meaning to me that day.

Blessed be Your name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name
When I’m found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be Your name

Every blessing You pour out
I’ll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in Lord
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there’s pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Blessed be your name

I knew that His name had to be blessed. Without Him, what chance would I stand? Even now when I hear that bridge, “You give and take away, You give and take away, my heart will choose to say, blessed be Your name,” it brings me to tears. We want to praise for when He gives, but are angry when He takes away. We forget that it’s all in His hands, the good and the bad. I have to consciously choose to bless His name through the trials. It’s not what comes naturally, but my praise comes from the heart. I was so frustrated, so hurt, and so angry. I just couldn’t understand why the Lord would allow me to walk through this. I can remember thinking something similar when we had to go through the IVM the first time, and when you’re walking through it, it’s near impossible to see the big picture, in the end, I knew it was the best path for us because it brought us Tessa, and I wouldn’t have changed a thing. But here I was again, in the midst of the fog, where I couldn’t figure out my next step, let alone the journey I was supposed to be on. What do I next? Where do I go? Why am I going through this? I had so many questions for God. All I could do was say the words with my mouth and hope that if I said them enough times, that my heart would follow, and it did, eventually. It wasn’t easy though. So many people would come up to me and tell me, “it’s okay, the Lord has a plan, it’s all in His control.” I know that. I know that. I know that. That’s what I had to tell myself over and over again. When my brain spoke it enough times, my heart started to believe it.

We want so badly for our lives to be laid out like a game of Candy Land, so we can see what’s coming up next on the path, but it doesn’t work like that. His plan is the best one, even when we don’t see it or understand it, and it took me a long time to get to that place. All throughout this process I have been so inspired and lifted up by music. There was a cd that David introduced me to at the beginning of this first FET, and I found a song on it that I listened to nonstop from the beginning of March until about the middle of May. And I mean, when I was in the car, this song was on repeat. David was going crazy listening to it, but it so spoke to me and encouraged me and it was the breath of life from the Lord that I needed. Even after we lost the baby, I kept listening to it. It is called Desert Song by Hillsong United, and it goes like this:

This is my prayer in the desert
When all that’s within me feels dry
This is my prayer in my hunger and need
My God is the God who provides

This is my prayer in the fire
Through weakness or trial or pain
There is a faith proved of more worth than gold
So refine me Lord through the flame

I will bring praise
I will bring praise
No weapon formed against me shall remain
I will rejoice
I will declare
God is my victory and He is here

This is my prayer in the battle
When triumph is still on its way
I am a conqueror and co-heir with Christ
So firm on His promise I’ll stand

All of my life
In every season
You are still God
I have a reason to sing
I have a reason to worship

This is my prayer in the harvest
When favor and providence flow
I know I’m filled to be emptied again
This seed I’ve received I will sow

This song had spoken to me throughout all stages of what I had walked through up to this point. Each verse felt like I different time of my life. My desert time felt like the time before we started all this up again. I wanted another child so badly, but then starting to feel that hurt and disappointment at knowing it’s not something that could happen on our own. My time in the fire was definitely after my failed cycles. That was my time of weakness, trial and pain. But yes, I have a faith that is more worth than gold, and this was my time for the Lord to refine me into what He wanted me to be. Change is often painful when the Lord is molding us into what He wants us to be. My battle time prayer was how I felt going through each cycle. This was when I was starting to feel hopeful and feeling like my triumph was still coming. I have had several people tell me through the Lord speaking through them that we are going to be able to have another child, I’m not sure in what fashion, but somehow, and that is the promise that I have been standing on. Of course I felt like my harvest prayer was after we got our positive test. The promise had been fulfilled and I could feel His favor pouring out on us. For whatever reason, He chose to take that baby home to be with Him, so it brings me back to a desert place. The bridge is maybe my favorite part of that whole song. All of my life, in every season, you are still God, I have a reason to sing, I have a reason to worship. No matter what happens with me and my family and the things that go on in our lives, He is still God, and I have every reason to worship. While this is the trial we are walking through, there are a million other things that He has spared us from, and because of that and because of His love and redemption for us, I have every reason to worship. It doesn’t mean it’s always easy, but I do it, because He wants to be praised, in everything.

The healing process from that miscarriage took me a while. I found myself in a real depressed place. With time, and much prayer, God helped me out of it. We decided to take some time off before we tried again. I felt like I really needed a break from the shots and pills and blood draws and ultrasounds. I needed to get my life back for a while. We celebrated Tessa’s 2nd birthday with a Minnie Mouse party at the end of May. I really do up her birthdays. I love celebrating the day my life was blessed with the best miracle we have ever experienced. Then in June we took one of our best vacations ever! We went with my parents and my sister and her husband and boys to Walt Disney World for a week. What a fun trip! It was great to just get away from the stress that I faced at home with all that we had been through and spend some time with our family relaxing and having fun. It was a great way to clear my head. We knew that we would want to start things up again sometime shortly after vacation, but I really wanted to give myself time to heal. We had been through so much. While we were on vacation, I started feeling like I was in a repeat of where we had been 3 years ago. We took a family vacation to Destin, FL the month before we cycled and it was a great way to relax and prepare for what my body would be undergoing. So like the last vacation, I bought some little clothes for my baby-to-be at Disney World. I couldn’t find anything gender neutral, so I bought a little pink Minnie onesie and a red Mickey onesie. I was so hopeful every time I looked at them.

A Story of Miracles, Loss, Heartache & Hope: Our Journey through IVF - Part 3

The weeks passed and we met with our doctor about doing an FET, which is basically the last half of an IVF cycle. The meds that you take to prepare yourself for it are different, but since they already have the embryos, you don’t have to do the retrieving of the eggs, just preparing your body for transferring the embryos back. These cycles take about a month from start to finish, and while the hormone medications aren’t as intense, they still do have an effect on your body, and you take the shots for a longer time than with the IVF cycle. I was very positive going into this FET. There was about a month from the time that we got our negative test results until I started the next. I felt as though I had given myself enough time to heal, although in retrospect I’m not sure if I did or not. I know I looked at it as if I wasn’t sure if I ever would feel fully healed from the negative cycle until I got a positive one. I could have waited months, and I may still have felt the effects of that last cycle burdening me. But I know I was excited to start again. I felt hopeful, I felt like my bad luck was behind me. Surely, I wouldn’t have two negative cycles in a row, so this one was bound to work.

It is pretty incredible how God brings people into your life just when you need them. I had a friend, my IVF friend, whom I had met through my sister, but she and her husband shared a similar experience to what we’d been through. She and I had reconnected in the fall and I let her know that we were getting ready to start another cycle, and surprisingly, she said they were going to be starting some frozen cycles soon too. She and I walked through so much of these cycles together. They were getting ready to start their first FET at the same time as we were. I still had the support of my friend from back when we cycled with Tessa. She and I e-mailed often and she would send me reminders that she was praying for me, just when I would need it. She had been through this, and lent her support. I also had my new IVF friend who was walking through this at the same time, so she and I offered each other a mutual kind of support. It’s amazing that how no matter what trial God chooses for us to walk through, He gives us what we need to survive it. And let me say, I have yet to mention my family as my support. They will get their own section. That’s still coming.

We started the cycle March 1, and our transfer was set for April 7. I was nervous, of course, but I was ready. I felt good about this cycle. These FET cycles were very different. I had to take less intense medications, in my opinion, but for a much longer period of time. The cycle felt like it was dragging on for forever. I just had a pretty constant feeling of, ick. It wasn’t severe pain or major awful feeling like I felt from the medicines during my IVF cycle, just kinda like a sick cloud looms over you, you never feel great, but never feel terrible either. Emotionally, there were quite a few highs and lows, that part of me never stayed the same. Thank you to my sweet David for putting up with me. As the transfer was drawing near, one of my friends who had been through IVF before said that she took home pregnancy tests after her transfer. She had started the day after and kept taking them until they turned positive. At this point in my life, I had never seen a positive home pregnancy test. I took them all the time during that year we were trying on our own, and I got so discouraged seeing negative after negative after negative, that even after I knew I was pregnant with Tessa, I never took one. I had such a phobia of them that I just figured I would jinx it somehow and it was turn up negative, so I never did. This time though, I decided I was going to.

So on April 7, we transferred two more embryos. I just knew this one had to work. The very next morning, I took a test, it was negative, as I knew it would be. Saturday morning I took one, negative again. But again, I knew it still should be negative at this point. Sunday was the first day that I was hoping it might turn positive, but it was still negative. Then I figured by Monday morning, it should be positive if it was going to turn positive, but it was still negative. I almost didn’t take one on Tuesday because I figured it should have already turned by now, but I did anyway because there were still some left in the box. My whole head turned fuzzy when I looked at the test and it said “pregnant.” I kept looking at it over and over, waiting for the “not” to show up in front of it, but it didn’t. I took a picture of it on my phone and texted it to David, who was already at work. About 20 seconds later he called me screaming. I just couldn’t believe it! I had never seen a positive home pregnancy test, and here it was, right here in front me. I was so elated that my hand shook as I held it. I called my mom and my sisters right away, and they were all so ecstatic. Our second miracle had come! Thank you Jesus! The next day, I took another one just to make sure the first wasn’t a fluke, and it turned positive faster than the day before. And I took another one the next day and it was even faster. Friday morning was my blood test. I practically skipped into the office. I told the nurse that I had cheated and took a home test that turned positive on Tuesday and the nurses congratulated me and told me we would probably expect to see high numbers, and we did. Then they tripled over the next 2 or 3 days, my family really thought I was having twins.

I was living in a dream world, I just couldn’t believe it. Every night, David and I laid hands on my stomach and prayed protection over our babies (we didn’t know if there were one or two at the time, so we prayed over them both). It was the most amazing miracle we had experienced since Tessa. My first ultrasound was scheduled for the day after Easter. Oh what a joyous Easter we had celebrating our risen Savior and the wonderful miracle He had given us. We kept telling Tessa that she was going to be a big sister, and my sister even made a couple really cute Big Sister shirts for her with her name on it and everything. My mom gave us an Easter basket for the baby with a boy and girl sleeper, and little brother/little sister onesie sets, and a pink and a blue pacifier. Could things get better? Not to mention that even though I wouldn’t get a due date until I went in for my ultrasound, I found an online due date calculator for FET cycles, which figures up a little differently than a normal pregnancy due date. The baby’s due date was my birthday, or right around then. Not only was it incredible that it was my birthday, but I was going to get a Christmas baby!! Having a birthday on December 21st has always been something I have loved. I love being a Christmas baby and I have always wanted to have a baby at Christmas time. This was it! I say it again, could it get any better?

Monday at lunch time was our ultrasound. David left work over his lunch break and met me at the doctor’s office. When the tech started doing the ultrasound, she wasn’t saying much, and I could see the ultrasound screen, and I wasn’t seeing anything. I knew that my now they would look for a gestational sac (or two), but it was taking her such a long time. My heart started racing. Then she started asking me questions about the cycle we did and when our transfer was and was my hcg blood test results were and how long ago that was. I knew something was wrong. She told me that she couldn’t find anything on the ultrasound and that she should be able to see the sac at this point. She said maybe it was too early, but she just wasn’t sure why it wasn’t visible. My heart is absolutely pounding at this point and once again, I feel the walls crumbling around me. When I came out of the room, the nurse said we were going to retest my blood to see what my hcg level was and that she was sorry, she knew this wasn’t what I wanted to hear today. Again, this was another big clue that this wasn’t going to end well. I was so scared when we left, but was trying to hold it together. All hope wasn’t lost yet. I prayed harder than I had even prayed in my life. I had to go to back to school for the afternoon, but my mind was totally somewhere else. I spent every spare second I had searching the internet for message boards or doctor websites, somewhere, someone to tell me that they had gone in for an ultrasound at 5 ½ weeks and didn’t see the sac but that their pregnancy turned out just fine. I found it, I found people that were in the same situation as me and had perfectly normal pregnancies, but I found a lot more people that didn’t have such good news. I prayed, and I prayed and I prayed and I prayed. I wanted the miracle. About a half hour before the end of the school day, the nurse called and said that she was sorry, but my hcg level had dropped down to 8, and that I was so stop all my medications, we had lost the baby. It was what I knew she was going to say, but hearing it out loud made it real. Once again, my loving teaching partner took my class for study hall and I went home. The dream had slipped through my fingers once more. This was now four babies I had lost in as many months.

A Story of Miracles, Loss, Heartache & Hope: Our Journey Through IVF - Part 2

After we had Tessa, many people (who knew what we went through) assumed that we just weren’t going to have any more children; that we wouldn’t go through it again. I always knew I wanted to try again. It was never a question in my mind. Especially as an adult, I feel so blessed to have grown up with siblings, my two sisters, that I knew I wanted that for Tessa. I wanted her to have a sibling, a little brother or sister. It is really important to me. And while I know this sounds funny, but it seemed so easy to me the first time around with Tessa. Yes, we had to undergo fertility treatments, but it worked, and we didn’t have any complications. I just assumed that if we did it again, we would get the same results. I figured…I can do that again. That was really a piece of cake. What did I know?

So in the fall of 2010, we decided that we were ready to get the process rolling to try for another baby. We made an appointment and met with my doctor in November and after talking things through, we decided that we were going to try IVF this round. He still offers the IVM, it’s just that it’s no longer a clinical trial, it’s something we would have to pay for, the success rate is still about the same, but the cost is not a whole lot less than IVF, so we opted to go for what cost a little more, but was likely to have better results.

In January, we started our IVF cycle. The shots drove me crazy. I felt really sick them, and I had such terrible pain. I can remember wincing every time I would stand or sit or change position of any kind. I read in a book somewhere that when going through an IVF cycle, your ovaries go from the size of almonds to oranges. I’m not sure if that’s true or not, but it sure felt like it. I can’t remember every feeling so physically miserable. The shots lasted about 2 weeks, and during that time, my estrogen levels got a little too high. One of the things that you have to worry about in IVF is ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome (OHSS). I don’t know exactly what it is, but it has something to do with your ovaries getting too stimulated from the medication and it can cause your abdomen to fill with fluid. Often, cycles have to be cancelled because of it, and it can put you in the hospital, and if bad enough, I think it can be fatal. I was never diagnosed with OHSS, but my levels were close. To avoid excess fluid in my abdomen, I was instructed to not drink any water for about 3 weeks. I could only have sugared drinks, because those are processed by your body, rather than water, which sits in your belly (as I understand it). I thought that was going to be great, an excuse to drink soda and juice and lemonade all the time, but boy oh boy, it didn’t take more than a day or two and I craved water so desperately. It was miserable.

Then the time came for the retrieval. The night before the transfer, I had started panicking about the doctor getting and fertilizing too many eggs. I didn’t want to be left with a bunch frozen and have to face the issues of what to do with them if we got the number of children we wanted and still had embryos frozen. I had spoken to my doctor before the retrieval about my concerns and he said that while they were legitimate, there’s no guarantee. He had had a patience once that retrieved thirty eggs, but not even one fertilized. So we decided to go ahead and let him retrieve what he could get. The procedure went fine and we had gotten 13 eggs. I went back and forth between being very nervous about that many and feeling great that at least we were going to have great chances for success. Then we had the five day wait while our little embryos grew. By the time we came back on day 5 for the transfer, we had lost three of them, and we had 10 embryos left. The doctor kind of chuckled when he told us that we still had 10 left, telling us that our chances were quite good of getting a viable pregnancy out of these embryos.

On that day, January 31, he transferred 2 embryos, leaving us with 8 to be frozen. The next week went by so slowly. We spent every night praying over my stomach and begging God to let these two stick. I wanted those babies so badly. I had my due dates all figured out in my head as to what it would be if there was one and what it would likely be if we ended up with two. I was so excited to have a fall baby. I remember thinking that I would be really pregnant at the time of the Sandwich Fair and how much fun that would be. The stupidest things go through your mind. In the back of my mind, I was still a little panicked though. I kept thinking, what if this one works? What if we get one baby? What if we get two? We still have eight embryos frozen, what are we going to do? David and I have known from day one of when we cycled with Tessa that we would never dispose of any embryos because to us, they are our babies. They aren’t just a grouping of cells, they are the beginning stages of a child and it was our child. But what was I going to do with these eight left over? I started adding the numbers up in my head, if these two took, what if all the rest of them did too, that’s 11 kids, and that’s not for me. I know some people can do it, but I have no desire for my own TLC show about my massive number of children, so what were we going to do? I tried not to let it worry me, after all, God is in control and He knows my situation. But still, it angered me that I had to worry about this; that I had to worry about this kind of situation. It seemed so unfair. Not only does it feel like the rest of the world gets pregnant at the drop of a hat and for free, but I had to go through all of this just at an attempt at a baby, and it was most certainly not free, and you got no guarantee of a baby. Then on top of it, I have to deal with what to do with these frozen embryos. It just seemed like it was all piling up on me.

Well, a week later, I went in for my blood test before school, it was February 7, the day after David’s birthday. I was so nervous that morning that I could hardly breathe in the car as I drove in. I kept praying and asking God to give me peace, to help me calm down because I was so nervous. As I was rounding the corner about 5 minutes from my doctor’s office, I turned on the radio to try and distract my mind. The song that was playing was a song I had heard before, by Kerrie Roberts and it was called No Matter What. The chorus is the part that was playing when I turned on the radio and it goes:

No matter what, I’m gonna love You
No matter what, I’m gonna need You
I know that You can find a way to keep me from the pain
But if not, I’ll trust you
No matter what, no matter what

When I heard that chorus, it was like the Lord was preparing me. I had this feeling down in the pit of my stomach that I was hearing that song to let me know that it wasn’t going to be good news, but that no matter what I needed to praise Him. I got my blood drawn, and went to school for the day. I was nervous all day. I kept checking my patient portal, hoping I would see results early this time like I did last time, but nothing was coming up. It was in the afternoon that my phone rang and it was the nurse from the doctor’s office. She asked me how I was doing and I said, “good, I hope?” That’s when she said, “I’m sorry sweetie, but it’s not good news.” As much as from somewhere in the back of my mind, I was expecting it, it was still such a shock. She said that the good news was that we still had eight embryos frozen and that our doctor would like us to come in for a consultation to discuss doing a frozen embryo transfer (FET). So I numbly set up an appointment for a couple weeks from that day and hung up the phone. It was at point that I completely lost it. I went next door to my teaching partner’s room and she knew I was waiting for the results, and all she had to do was look at my face and she told me to go home and that she would cover my class for the rest of the day. In tears, I signed out of the office and ran from the building. I cried my entire way home. I was sick to my stomach. After all we had gone through, it didn’t work. I couldn’t comprehend it.

The rest of that day was pretty much a blur to me, I don’t remember much. I do remember that my brother in law stopped by and brought me a slice of fresh strawberry cheesecake from The Cheesecake Factory. He didn’t say a word, just smiled and dropped it off. It was what I needed, and for that, I thank him. My heart was totally broken. I had lost two babies. This wasn’t just an unsuccessful month of trying to get pregnant, these were my two babies that were with Jesus now. And just as they were in the arms of the Lord, so was I. There were times where I would be sitting on the couch or laying in my bed in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, and I could feel His presence wrapped around me like a loving embrace. When I didn’t know what else to do, I could rest in His presence, because He was there protecting me and lifting me up. I spent so many countless hours, just holding Tessa and crying with her in my arms. While I mourned my loss, I was just so thankful that I had her. She kept me going.

A Story of Miracles, Loss, Heartache and Hope: Our Journey Through IVF - Part 1

I read an article a few weeks ago about women that deal with infertility and how many of them suffer in silence. This happens often because they are embarrassed or ashamed to talk about what they are going through or don’t know who to talk to about it. This really bothers me. For a long while now, it’s been on my heart to share my story, but I haven’t really known the right way to do it or felt a strong direction about it. In the last couple weeks, it has been made clear to me. I want to tell my story. I want it to be an encouragement to someone who needs it or to someone who knows someone who needs it. There is very little that I understand about why we have had to go through what we have been through, but one thing I know for sure is that I am meant to be there to help someone else just as others have been there for me. This is our story.

This last year has been one of the most painful times that I have ever experienced. I never imagined a year ago that I would be where I am today. Before I get too much into our crazy 2011, let me do a little background information for those who don’t know our story from the beginning. David and I got married young, we were only 20. We had been married for a little over three years when we decided that we wanted to have a baby. It seemed so simple. You never imagine things not working out the way you dreamed them. Well, 9 months later…still no baby. I cried every month that the test showed negative. I read all the books and websites I could find. We took the vitamins and supplements that were supposed to help. I started seeing a chiropractor regularly because I figured that would help. Nothing made a difference.

In May, I went in to see my doctor for my regular exam, and she started asking questions and I just started crying. I was so frustrated and discouraged; I didn’t understand why we still didn’t have a baby. She said we would start some testing on David and I. At the end of June we received the phone call that turned our lives upside down, letting us know that things weren’t right and we needed to see a specialist. I can remember being in so much shock that I didn’t really have words. It was my worst fears becoming reality. We had dinner plans that evening with my parents, and I can just remember sitting there through dinner, hardly talking. There was so much to process, so much I didn’t understand, and this intense feeling of all of my dreams slipping out of my hands. It still takes my breath away to think about that day. I remember where in our apartment I was standing as I talked to the nurse from the doctor’s office on the phone, and I can remember exactly what she said to me and that she said it in the most chipper tone. I remember thinking, really? Do you really have to sound that happy? Do you not realize that what you just told me changed my life forever? God really had his hand in our situation, because, in July, the night before our first doctor appointment, an old friend of our family happened to be in town and wanted to come and visit. I hadn’t seen her for years, but as it turned out, she had been through IVF with both of her pregnancies and as she sat there and talked to and cried with me, I knew I had found my support. Granted, my family was the biggest support I could ask for, but I was desperately needing someone who had been through it, who could talk to me and help me understand what was going on. It was divine intervention.

The next day we met with a doctor, and the following week another one, both recommended by friends, and there was one we just really felt comfortable with. He told us that in vitro fertilization (IVF) was going to be our only option to have a baby. I knew of some other friends that had tried less invasive treatments first, but our doctor informed us that it wouldn’t be worth our time, it wouldn’t work. I knew this was what we would have to do. We looked into our insurance coverage and lo and behold, it didn’t cover any of it. It covered the diagnostic part, so they would pay for it up to the part where they tell you that you’re broken, but didn’t pay to fix it. IVF was expensive, around $15,000 expensive.

We weren’t sure what we were going to do. My doctor offered us another option. He wasn’t sure if I would qualify, but he was conducting a clinical study of a type of in vitro called IVM, in vitro maturation. In IVF, a woman would be given injectable hormones to bring multiple eggs to maturity at one time. The eggs are then retrieved then fertilized in the lab. After 5 days, one or two are transferred back to your uterus in hopes that they would find a spot to stay and grow into a healthy baby. IVM is a little different. With IVM, most of your eggs are harvest immaturely, along with the one mature egg your body naturally produces, then in the lab, they are given the maturing drugs, then fertilized and transferred back. Only certain patients, based on age and fertility diagnosis could participate in the trial.

In August, we were set to take a family vacation to Destin, FL. It was while we were there that I got the call from him that we would qualify for the trial if we wanted to do it, the best part was that because it was a trial, it was free. We thought and prayed about it, and decided, YES! This was for us! We knew the chances for success were lower than IVF, our doctor was hoping for 2 out 5 successful pregnancies, whereas with IVF, you get about a 50-60% chance for success. We figured, why not? Let’s give it a try, and if it doesn’t work, we can always do IVF next. Before we left Florida, we decided that we wanted to buy something for our little one that we knew we were going to have in our lives. David and I found this little yellow onesie that said some obnoxious little phrase about vacationing in Destin. Then my mom surprised me with two little onesies that both had a pink and blue dolphin on them, because she really thought we might end up with twins. When we got home, I put those little reminders in my top dresser drawer, and every time I opened it, I prayed for that little baby that I just knew we were going to have. (I still have those onesies, they’re still in the top dresser drawer, not mine, but of my daughter’s.)

In August of 2008, we started our IVM cycle. The cycle was pretty easy to begin with, just office visits where I would get blood drawn and do an ultrasound, nothing major. I didn’t have to have any of the super-ovulatory drugs that made me feel sick and miserable, like I had read about in many books. I only had to take one shot before my retrieval, and thankfully, we were living with my parents at the time, and with my mom being a nurse, I didn’t have to do it myself. We went in 36 hours later for our retrieval. We had to go to the surgery center which was downtown Chicago. My aunt drove David, my mom and I to the city. I was pretty miserable after the retrieval, that one you have to be put under for. I didn’t expect the pain that followed it, but a couple days on the couch and I was feeling better. The doctor was able to retrieve one mature egg and several immature ones. He called me every other day, letting me know how the embryos were doing and how many were still surviving. We knew that he would transfer up to three embryos. In an IVF cycle, for someone my age, he would never do more than 2, but because this had a much lower chance for success, he would transfer 3, if we had them. The transfer was on Tuesday, and by Friday, we had three left. He said they all looked good. I was feeling great. Then he called Saturday and said that we may be moving the transfer up from Monday to Sunday. Two of the embryos were starting to fracture, and he wanted to try and transfer before it was too late. Then Sunday he called again and said one did fracture completely, but the other stopped fracturing and looked it was going to be viable, so we were still waiting for Monday because the 5 day transfer gives the embryos the best chance for survival. Monday morning, David, my mom and I trucked back up to the surgery center in Chicago to have my little babies put back inside where they belonged. After they were put back in, he gave me an ultrasound picture. Of course, you couldn’t see the embryos, they were far too small, but you could see little air bubbles from where he transferred them. I held onto that picture so tightly. We prayed over those babies every night and what seemed like most waking moments of the day. I took several days off work to stay home and rest, and keep my feet up (even though the doctor said it was fine to resume normal activity, I just felt better about it.)

A ridiculously nervewracking week later, on Monday, September 15th, I went in for my blood test in the morning. The blood test measures your hcg level, and anything about 5 or 10 is considered a positive test, but most numbers are about 40 or 50 at this point. I waited all day for the callback from the nurse, between 1 and 4 pm. I kept checking my patient portal online, because sometimes test results were posted before the nurse got a chance to call. At 1:30, I checked it again, and saw that my results were in. I remember feeling like my heart was going to pound out of my chest. I clicked on the results and it said 58.9. I was pretty sure I knew what that meant, but wanted to be certain. I looked up on a few websites, and after I was sure, I went next door to my teaching partner (who was also anxiously awaiting the news) and said, “my hcg is 58.9, I think that means I’m pregnant.” She screamed, I was still in shock. I waited for the official phone call from the nurse that afternoon and she confirmed it. My dreams were back within my grasp. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to tell my family over the phone, even though they knew I was getting results back, so I was mean, and told them the nurse called and said the results were inconclusive and I would have to retest in a couple days. On my way home, I stopped at Target and bought some cute little onesie that said something about Daddy on it, and took it home for David. We all rejoiced! It was incredible! Of course, every weird feeling or pain or ache made me terrified. I just was so afraid that after all we’d gone through, it was going to be taken away from me.

I loved being pregnant. Yes, I was sick, really sick in the first trimester. I think it had something to do with the fact that I had a double dose of hormones taking over my body, some that my body produced naturally and some that I was giving myself through injection, but it was incredible, the best time of my life. I first felt her move on December 14; it was the most amazing feeling, to know that life is stirring about within you. At Christmastime we found out that my sister was expecting also, so it was really special to get to experience it with her. On January 3 we found out we were having a girl! I was so nervous during the ultrasound to find out the gender of our little bundle. Then we celebrated with lunch out and a trip to Carters to buy far too many pink and purple outfits! In February, we bought our townhouse and moved in, with just a few months left to go. My favorite room to decorate was hers. I would sit in her room rocking in the chair every night just dreaming of what it would be like for my girl to be here and to put her to bed in her room every night. We got to do some really neat things during my pregnancy. Because of the clinical study that we underwent to have her, she was a pretty special baby. Our doctor was in the news several times because of his success in this clinical trial. We were interviewed and put on the WGN and ABC7 news where we were able to share bits of our story. Our doctor also did a live interview on the CBS Early Show. It was a really neat experience to be a part of, and we are so thankful that we chose to give the IVM a try, because we got such an incredible result from it.

On May 27, 2009, a day after her due date, Tessa Charlotte arrived in all her glory; all 9 pounds, 7 ounces of her. She has been the joy of my life every day since. Every morning, I wake up, look at her beautiful face and I just can’t believe how blessed we are to have her. I just can’t believe that she is mine and I get to spend every day being her mom. She’s 2 ½ now, and while she challenges us daily, she’s the best thing that ever happened to us. I love her with every ounce of my being. She is my whole world.

Tessa's antics (I mean helpfulness)

Tessa likes to help, I'll give her credit for that. Not so much helping with the things I would like for her to help with, like picking up toys, but she does like to help.

She likes to help me do laundry. Now, I know it sounds bad, but I often try and do laundry when she's sleeping or busy doing something else. Considering she hasn't taken a nap for the last few days, I've had to try to distract her. The reason why I distract her is because folding laundry is a never-ending process when she is "helping." She takes all the laundry that I've already folded and tries to re-fold it, then when she can't do it, she just gets frustrated and throws herself into the piles of clothes and ends up laughing and rolling around in it. So yes, folding laundry is near impossible with my helper. She does, however, make herself very useful in putting the laundry in the washing machine. I often give her the laundry basket and tell her to put a certain pile of clothes into the basket...she does that almost perfectly every time. Then we scoot the laundry basket over to the washing machine and she does really well to toss it into the machine. She can't see exactly what she's doing, but really does well. THAT is actually helpful. She also enjoys putting wet clothes into the dryer. I hand her the ones from the washer and she puts them into the dryer. I often find her in the dryer herself, but that's usually (not always) after the clothes are dry. This week, I have had a pile of clean clothes in my laundry basket that I attempted to fold numerous times, but each time was unsuccessful as Tessa has not been napping for me, and I haven't gotten much of a break. Last night, she wanted to "push the button" (on the machines) so she proceeded to fill my washing machine up with mostly clean clothes from the basket, then she started to refill up the laundry basket with dirty ones she found around the room. So now my basket is half clean, half dirty with a washing machine full of clean (dry) clothes. This is what my laundry looked like to start off today. I actually had her busy watching a movie, so I started to work on sorting. I'm trying to figure out which clothes in the basket are dirty and which are clean. Now, they've been mixed together all night, so I figured, I'd probably have to rewash them anyway. I notice as I'm going through the basket and smelling the clothes that they have a bit of a funny odor, not dirty or sweaty or like deodorant, as if they've been worn, just odd. But I kept going. Then, as I reached the bottom of the basket, I found the culprit. A wet diaper. Yep, that was the smell I was smelling. Tessa picked it up with everything else last night when she was filling the basket and tossed it in. So now it's official, I really do have to rewash everything.

She also likes to help me load and unload the dishwasher. I like to give her the silverware container and let her sort the forks, knives and spoons into their correct spot in the drawer. She actually does pretty good, and again, very helpful for me. Plus, I think it's a good skill for her to sort by shapes. This morning, I was loading the dishwasher, and here she comes, "Mommy, what you doing?" "I'm loading the dishwasher, Tessa." "Tessa do it!" So I started handing her glasses and plates and silverware, showing her where to put them. I love that she wants to help. Then, in trying to reach up on the top level, she climbs up onto the door of the dishwasher which is laying out flat. I hear a "crack!" That's where I took her off and finished the job myself. I haven't run it yet, so I'm hoping she caused no major damage. It closed okay when I was done, so hopefully, it's not broken. She also helps me wash the dishes with water. When I was upstairs this morning (folding laundry) I went down to check on her, which I do periodically when she's by herself downstairs, and I heard water running. I went into the kitchen to see that she has pulled a chair up to the sink, has the water running and my scrub brush in her hand rubbing the dishes (this was before we loaded the dishwasher). The counter was soaked, as were the cabinets up above, as were all my picture frames behind the sink, but yes, she was helping, and I am thankful for that.

My last Tessa anecdote for the morning, we were both downstairs after we had cleaned up all her toys, and I was going to sit down to work on hats. Our conversation went like this:

Tessa: Mommy, upstairs.
Me: You want me to go upstairs?
Tessa: Yes, upstairs.
Me: Why? Are you going to do something you don't want me to see?
Tessa: Yes.

I love the brutal honesty my daughter gives me. She's the best.

Cake time on a beautiful February day

David's birthday is on Monday, but I am having a party for him this Saturday. It's the first birthday party I have thrown for him in our 7 years of marriage and 10 years together. Not that we don't celebrate his birthday, because we do, I just don't do parties. This year, I decided to. The party is Saturday, but since I'm busy the next two days, I figured I would make and decorate it today. This is what I came up with.