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.