Due

Sunday was my due date.

4/5/15.

Sadness and wondering can coexist with gratefulness and hope. 

My current baby doesn't replace my first baby. I was having a girl with one donor family. Now a boy with another. 

It's the way it's meant to be. I don't know that it's good or bad. It's just a loss and a totally different reality. There are reasons I don't know. I don't personally believe she was too perfect for earth or that God needed her. I'm not sure why things happened the way they did. 

But I'm here. And I believe despite the painful realities, God has a plan for my life. And He is still good to me. 

Acceptance. 

I will admit, though, it is easier to swallow when the baby I have now is jerking around and a week from viability. 

Hope. 

Her life still means something to me. We were together a month and a half. I went through things people shouldn't have to in order to be pregnant with her. I honored her memory with a gift to St Jude, and two of my family members honored her with a gift to Make a Wish. Maybe someone else's child can make memories with their family on her account, since she never got to. 

Sorrow and joy. 

Rescued

I couldn't make this up.

I'm more blessed than I deserve. As of Thursday night, in the last 7 months, between the two of us D and I have had innumerable doctor appointments, seven ultrasounds, six surgeries, six ER visits, six weeks of IV antibiotics with a PICC line, two ambulance rides, two almost week-long hospitalizations, and now a totaled car.

All of this sucks, but we are still blessed.

Thursday evening, we were driving home from Big City where we just  finished a third initial post-op appointment with D's foot doctor, because why not have three initial post-ops, right? It was raining and rush hour. All at once, we must have hit standing water, and our car lost control. It went careening towards a concrete median. Crash. We bounced off the median and sailed across four lanes of traffic, somehow missing hitting anyone or having anyone hit us. The car slid off the road, down an embankment, and into a tree. Crash.

After an ambulance ride that seemed to last forever, I was back at the ER to see if they could find a heartbeat. All I could think was what if I killed our baby, and how at 21 weeks, I know they wouldn't do much if I went into labor or if something was wrong.

Luckily my airbags didn't come out and my stomach didn't hit anything. I'm very obsessed with making sure the seatbelt is low on my hips, so it didn't pull on my stomach. The ER found his heartbeat (although mine was so high- only about 20 beats a minute away from what his normally is- that I was worried they were measuring mine and not his). I got transferred to the OB department for more monitoring. Still a consistent heartbeat, and no contractions, so I was released home. He's been wiggly as normal these past couple of days, so hopefully he will continue growing strong.

This baby has been through more adventure in his short little life. Being frozen in Oregon and traveling to Tennessee and sitting in a freezer until strangers picked his profile. Strangers who became his parents. Then bleeding drama and nights spent in the hospital for his dad's surgeries and nights spent in the hospital so his mom could be at work without driving in the ice (funny how I was so worried about wrecking in the ice but it was the rain that got me!). Then a wreck that could be put in an action movie.

I know God's hand has been all around me in this very challenging last year. Bad things still happen because this is a broken and fallen world, but I believe God's grace sustains me and He has a purpose for my family because we are still here. I have a bruise on my shoulder from the seatbelt, but there's not another scratch on D or I. We're sore of course, but we are alive and well

My mind keeps replaying the wreck, and during the most dangerous part- where we went across four lanes of rush hour traffic in the rain- I can only see me looking over at D. The outside of the car was blurry at this point of my memory (I could see the concrete wall coming and the tree coming but nothing in the middle portion of the wreck). I know angels were around our car protecting us.

Psalm 34 has meant a lot to me throughout this process. When we started transfers, I was so scared of the shots and after fear left, it was replaced with despair at the constant pokes and pain and blood. One of the phrases I repeated to myself while I did shots was "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed" (Psalm 34:18).

I'm not sure what is theologically correct about angels, if we have guardian angels who are people we know. But I do know this protection and provision exists in some form.  

In my desperation I prayed, and the Lord listened;
    He saved me from all my troubles
 For the angel of the Lord is a guard;
    He surrounds and defends all who fear Him.

The righteous person faces many troubles,
    but the Lord comes to the rescue each time.
For the Lord protects the bones of the righteous;
    not one of them is broken!
 
 -Psalm 34:6-7, 19-20

I am not righteous on my own but only through Christ. In the end I may not be rescued in the sense of this world of but in my eternal fate. For now, I know God is with me, D, and our baby. Our bones weren't broken, and angels were encamped all around us. My thanks are to God. 

Final thoughts... I wasn't speeding or on my phone, but in just a moment the wreck was set into motion. Always wear your seatbelt! We unfortunately learned that N.issan A.ltimas hold up very well in wild wrecks. I wouldn't think people just walked away, looking at the car. Thank you N.issan!

Why Me,Part 2

Yeah, it may be a little spring-ish for a late summer newborn, but I think this one may be baby's take home outfit. xoxo

I don't take any milestone or step on this journey for granted. My excitement might not be very evident to the outsider eye, but my heart has the deepest gratitude I could imagine. I don't think I love my baby any more than any other mom, but the love I have is certainly different. It's raw. It stops me in my tracks. I'm still in shock. I feel undeserving. A hole in my heart is being patched up and filled. 

Some days I question, "Why me?"  And not the question I've asked out of hurt. Not the why can't I have one single child. The same question asked in a new way. Why has my prayer been answered? There are many others still waiting on their child. Several people I hold very closely to me. It hurts me to know they can't fulfill their longing. 

It pains me to be on either side of this journey. 

I Can't Explain

My belly gets a little bigger every day. At first it just looked wider, but now the bump is moving up and is pretty noticeable when I'm not in scrubs. Although, I have to admit that a frequent flier patient at my work asked if I was still exercising and eating healthy, so I guess people who don't know are starting to wonder. I still haven't gained any weight, so I guess it's just my insides getting pushed out.

I had to seek out some maternity underwear due to the aforementioned growth. I was angry, yes angry, that Target didn't have any. I don't want to buy regular a size up. They will roll down in the front and sag in the back, and my current ones leave a line in my belly. What the heck society. Am I the only one who sees this need? 

And that irritation was because I had to, then, go to Motherhood Maternity. I tried their website, but the sizing wasn't clear. I went, and I felt like an imposter there. I'm just as pregnant as any other shopper there, but I felt like I didn't belong, and I rushed in and out. 

It's been about three weeks since my last ultrasound, and by the time we go to the specialty shop to get the big sex reveal on Friday, it will have been almost four weeks. 

I can't explain why I feel the way I do. Other than the night I bled a ton, I never think "what if the baby's heart has stopped?"... Other than when I think about the next ultrasound. My trigger. I start to plan it out in my head. Would the tech notice right away? The baby wouldn't be moving, so I'd notice right away. What would the tech say? Why did I schedule the scan on a Friday afternoon? How will I reach my OB, then? 

These thought are very intrusive. They invade my brain like I imagine a tumor can, weaving in and getting stuck there. 

Why can't I be happy? Why can't I be more excited? I get to see my baby. I will have a video of the movement and lots of new pictures. We can really start planning once we know "boy or girl". But I'm dragging my feet because I don't want bad news. 

I am blessed. God is with me. He has helped me get to this point. I don't understand every "why", but I still trust Him. 

However, those things don't negate my pain and fears. I live in a broken world. Each day is an opportunity to unbury myself and try to heal. 

3.5 years of waiting, the isolation, the home studies, the lost faith in the foster care system, the rejection in adoption situations, the failed IUIs, the failed IVF transfer, the blighted ovum, the miscarriage, the painful realities of medical interventions I fear whether it be the 100s of shots or the two d&c's, the bright red blood at a time you aren't supposed to bleed- it all adds up. It is a heavy weight, much too heavy to dispose of in the amount of time I've had. 

And it will still be there when I deliver. My hope is that it will be much less heavy and won't take away in my ability to enjoy my biggest blessing, this creature I have sought after and fought for. 

Pregnancy is normally a time to get things ready. Thank God we have a nursery already, because it's my heart I need to get ready. 

My Days

Everyone says the second trimester brings big changes, and I'll agree. I still have queasiness issues, gagging, and occasional throwing up, but my aversions and all day nausea if I don't eat every few hours has faded. I'm still tired, but I'm not a complete zombie by 5:30 PM.

I thought it was too soon to be getting maternity scrubs, but my normally loose, stretchy pants are getting tight. I asked the girl at the store when people normally bought them, and she was kind to say the lady she helped the other day was 3 months. So I don't feel as bad. I'm glad I went when I did because they were out of my size and it takes 1.5 weeks for them to come in. At the rate I'm going I will be desperate for a larger size by then. :) 

8 more days til we find out if we're having a boy or girl. Things will get more real, I think. 

I'm working through my anxiety. It's been a struggle in the past few weeks. I think for so many weeks I was in survival mode, just trying to survive shots and ultrasounds and holding my breath til I saw a heartbeat each time. It's caught up with me now. The bleed has pushed me to my limits and the incident last week brought me back to the place of wondering if I would ever be a parent. 

Fear, doubt, and guilt grip me. I've already had anxiety and panic attacks in the past that I've been able to manage for the most part, but I'm getting some direction now. 

Quick Update

Just a quick note to let everyone know that we're still hanging in. I really appreciate the concern, thoughts, prayers, and love. My bleeding has slowed down, and I'm hoping it will stay that way. All my bloodwork from Monday came back good except some questionable things with my thyroid. I expect to have more answers on that early next week.

Why

One of my worst fears happened in the Walgreens bathroom last night.

I looked down and saw red. Not spots. Not brown. Just pure, bright red. Everywhere. 

Why? 

I drove to the ER in a fog and walked in, flinching as I was forced to say, "I'm 13 weeks, and I started bleeding really bad" through heavy tears/sobs/weeping. 

(My due date has been moved up since the baby has been measuring three days ahead so I was able to"skip" half of week 12 and breeze right over to week 13- hello second trimester!... In case anyone was wondering where 13 weeks came from).

Go to exam room. Wait. Cry. Meet my nurse who I happen to know, and she sweetly prays over us. Get blood drawn. Wait. Cry. Get pelvic exam. Have the doctor tell me there was no tissue down there so it "isn't a confirmed miscarriage". Get really annoyed at that statement- they could have done a Doppler when I walked in to let me know, but instead they're working backwards- tissue wasn't even on my radar, but now it is. D says she was just trying to be comforting, but I'm not comforted. Wait. Get an ultrasound. I'm very spolied by having so many RE scans. Techs can't diagnose so they normally don't talk, but they do at the RE. They don't other places. This tech knows I'm dying (it's been probably an hour and half and I still don't know if the baby is even alive), so he turns up the sound of the heartbeat. He says he won't do that for just anyone. Wait, wait, wait for the ultrasound to be next in some que for a random radiologist to read it. 

Finally the doctor comes in and says I do have another SCH which is likely the culprit. The growth is on track at 13w1d. The heartrate is in the 150's. I need to be on pelvic rest until I can see the OB tomorrow. 

Which is now today. More waiting. Trying not to worry. 

Open Wounds

I didn't know how it would be to be pregnant after a loss. I guess I figured I'd have a lot more anxiety about everything. Despite no answers in the genetic testing, I still believe the miscarriage was from something chromosomal. Maybe that helps keep this pregnancy somewhat in perspective. There was nothing I could do. It was out of my control. So there is nothing I can do to hurt or help this pregnancy either, outside taking my medication as ordered. And now that I've seen a healthy heartbeat at 7 weeks, science says I have less than a 5% chance of a miscarriage.

While I have not felt overwhelmingly anxious, I have not felt overwhelmingly anything... except perhaps hesitation. I don't want to make too many plans yet. I don't want to get too excited yet. My heart is still broken. The true healing I've had since August has been replaced with open wounds. They will heal up again, as they did before, but it will take time.

Many people don't have dozens of people know the moment they may become pregnant or early on when they pee on a stick or get a beta. So I think that is the heart of my current difficulties. Openness in our journey has been a blessing in many ways, but in this situation, it makes things difficult sometimes, too.

So many people are rooting for us, but rabid excitement is not what I need right now. Prayers, sweet comments, affirmations- yes, those all help immensely. I love the hugs, congratulations, and eager expectation. But (what seems to me) flippant, pure joy as if everything is "done deal" and there will be a baby here in August? Statements like I "just need to think positive"? Hoping for the best is fine and dandy til it didn't work for you. Those words feel like a knife stabbing me.

Stabbing me over and over as I replay all the positivity and hope I had for my last pregnancy and how the end result was the death of my baby before I met her. No matter how bad I wished and wanted her to live, her heart stopped beating. When people fail to see this huge blessing we're currently waiting for in the lens of what we've been through, it's very hurtful. I don't know if I'm half crazy, but it makes me feel defensive for my first baby. What about her? Why did she die? Was I not positive enough? (I know the answer is no, but those questions run through my mind like a raging river when I feel bombarded by people I suppose just outside the understanding of how a miscarriage taints your perspective).

Okay, I feel like maybe I complain too much about the genuinely well intended statements people have made throughout this journey. And I know no one around me means what I interpret. And none of this is directed at any one person. The majority of people in my life bring nothing but blessing in this season of very mixed feelings. So if you are reading, I am certain the support you give me is appreciated. Thank you.

I look forward to a day when this pain will settle into the background, and I can be elated. When I can give this baby the adoration and anticipation he or she deserves. When my joy as a mother can exceed the joy of those around me. But I'm just not there yet.

Some Days

Some days you just have a really bad shot that won't go in no matter where you poke or what needles you try... (Every spot that isn't bleeding is a knot)

Running Out

When do you run out of bad luck?

This has been the longest year. Start process to adopt embryos. Update homestudy. Get medically cleared. Match three times. Transfer three times. Hundreds of shots. Artificially built up and dropped hormones. Find out what a failed transfer feels like. Find out what a miscarriage feels like. Get not one but two d&c's. D goes through major foot surgery. Once home, pain pump doesn't help enough so we land in the ER. His time in a cast drags on, and he's unable to drive. He gets complications from surgery and is miserably sick for three weeks. Innumerable doctor appointments. Three more ER visits. Gallbladder surgery. Each statement seems so simple typed out. Yet each entails tears and struggle and worry. 

I don't want to complain. We're blessed to have each other, the jobs we do, great family on both sides, health insurance, the ability to use a wonderful clinic to become parents, to match with equally wonderful families who donated their embryos to us. 

But, I'm ready for life to return to normal, whatever that will look like now. I'm ready to struggle with learning to be a parent instead of struggling to become one. I'm ready for the bad luck to run out and days of wellness and togetherness to come. I'm ready to have a normal Saturday of lounging and going out to eat with D and laughing. I'm 5 1/2 weeks pregnant and ready to be able to be excited about the fact that I'm pregnant like 99% of the world when they see that second line. 

Hope Appearing

It's chronologically backwards, but I still want to share that I will forever be grateful for a second chance, for hope, for redemption. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but worry can't change the result. I'm blessed more than I can understand. 

I haven't been writing as much mostly because we've had a lot going on. D's been pretty sick, unfortunately. The past four months have been a very trying season. I'm hopeful things will get better soon, though. 

No Time to Be Nervous

Three more days til transfer! As jam packed as my life has been the past couple of weeks, it's left virtually no time to be nervous. 

The PIO has affected me more than I remember last time. I was really winded doing therapy yesterday. I started to feel almost like I was having a panic attack- dizzy and short of breath. I figured it had to be from the progesterone, and I did discover that progesterone can cause shortness of breath. 

So now? Off to pack for a trip to frigid Knoxville! 

Tomorrow begins thawing for some embryos for ladies from my cycle group. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday will bring transfers and more thawing. This time around, I know four of the other families. Please pray for K, J, L, and C as well as me- for safe travels and healthy embryos and a smooth transfer. Pray for linings that aren't quite thick enough, trips from across the country, and for nervous third tries, first tries, and hopes to add siblings. Please pray for the doctor, embryologist, and the nurse (who is new- yes, having a different nurse for all three transfers is nerve wracking!!!). 

Grace is Enough

I've had these horrible headaches for over two months. They were worse than hormonal migraines, and I'm not sure a single day went by in that time without a headache at least part of the day. My PCP could only suggest steroids since he wouldn't prescribe migraine medicine while TTC (which I agree with). He said I could see a neurologist, but the last thing I want right now is scans and more medicine. I tried massage, but the therapist felt like something was wrong with my neck and referred me to a chiropractor.

Except I don't believe in chiropractors, so I didn't go. I continued massage and saw another therapist who recommended the same thing. In a moment of pained desperation, I made an appointment. Just for a chiropractic consultation. In continued desperation, after the exam/consultation revealed a pinched nerve in my neck with two discs out of alignment, I let the chiropractor "adjust" me.

And for 2 1/2 days, I haven't had a headache.

This is a huge blessing to me.

I think sometimes I don't open myself to blessings. Fear and hesitation is part of human nature, I guess. 

Not only was I blessed to have my pain relieved, but the chiropractor prayed over me and our transfer. Can you say tears?

And as scary as it seems to be going for a third transfer, especially after a very painful miscarriage, I have to be open to this blessing.

It doesn't snow very often where I live. Ice? Yeah. Freezing cold rain? Yep. Snow, a few times a year maybe.

Today, on the long commute to take D to Big City, sleet turned to soft snowflakes. Delicate, unique, shimmery snowflakes.

The verse that was on my heart on the drive to the clinic the day of the bad ultrasound was 2 Corinthians 2:19: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." And today, as I looked down at the snowflakes falling on the window, Your Grace Is Enough came on.

I pray God doesn't forget me.

PIO Nightmares

You might have some deep seeded anxiety if you have dreams two nights in a row about PIO gone wrong. 

I drempt very matter of factly that my PIO syringe was the size of a 20 oz coke bottle with an equally large and very crooked needle. The syringe was full of bubbles as if it were a fish tank. I kept standing there trying to figure out a way to make the injection work. 

Three more days til I start the hopefully less scary and less eventful PIO shots. 

16 Days Til Transfer

16 days til we transfer! I don't have any days off between now and transfer day- so 16 straight days of work. I'm confident, then, that this remaining time will fly by. Please say a prayer that my stress level will stay low and that my headaches can subside.  I've had a hormonal migraine, tension headache, or combination of the two almost every day for over 2 months, and I am worn out. I've tried heat, ice, massage, stretching, excedrin, my prescription migraine pills, steroid dose pack, caffeine, no caffeine... with sporadic relief. I bought a new flax seed heating pack (No, I don't get paid to say this- I LOVE my R.elax W.raps!!!), and I am on the hunt for the perfect new pillow.

I'm feeling positive. I feel more positive than ever. I can't imagine that this won't work. The statistics are overwhelmingly in our favor. We just can't keep being the unlucky ones. I know I can get pregnant. We have some strong embryos that are nearly hatching already. I know God can breathe life into the tiny frozen embryos and allow them to grow into a baby. We have 100s of people praying for us.  

Okay, I know we can keep being the unlucky ones, we really can, but please oh please not!

I just need to keep doing my part to stay healthy and minimize my stress. I won't take too much on (work and D are enough right now). I will keep eating well and taking my vitamins so I can avoid any kind of virus pre-transfer (I was sick prior to the first one and still coughing a lot at night for the first one). I will keep up drinking the P.OM and walking and using heat packs in hopes of a thick lining. THIS IS IT! We're in the home stretch of our successful cycle!

My Story

My poor brain is so sluggish. I have all these thoughts and feelings but it's hard to put them into words.

There are two major reunions/social events coming up within the next two weeks, and I'm not going to either one. I have legitimate reasons why I can't attend. And I would like to be able to go to see some people who would be there.

But part of me is relieved. I honestly do not mind people asking me questions or discussing our situation. I think I'm in a minority with my comfort level of this process. I want to share so other people who may be silently suffering are aware of options. And so no one feels alone. And just because I am pretty excited about this path.

However, I can't stand the unspoken tension of poking questions or looks of pity. Anyone in my social circle "should" have kids by now... or several... or several in late elementary school. And I don't have a child or one on the way or anything. So when you go to these events, it's kinda like a small elephant following you around (maybe I read too much into things).

And while I do enjoy sharing my story, I don't want attention or pity or feeling like I am the trainwreck on someone's Facebook feed. Which is why I shared this blog publicly a few times when I first made it, but I don't put it on my Facebook feed anymore. I feel like if anyone genuinely cares to know what is happening, they follow. I don't just want views when something dramatic happens. My whole heart is all over these posts. I want that reserved for people rooting for me.

I guess all this to say that openness is a fine line. And, this situation is such a lonely place- it's lonely in social settings to not have a picture of my kid or a story to add to the conversation, but it's lonely to be left out of conversations, too.

Maybe one day soon none of this will be a consideration.

A Day of Rest

Yesterday, I had a long awaited day of rest. I was physically busy all day, but I had an "off" day for my mind. Thankfully, no work, no on call phone for today. I woke up at a leisurely 7:15 AM and ate some yummy oatmeal sprinkled with walnuts (which is my new favorite after K.roger unkindly stopped carrying my other favorite oatmeal!). I proceeded to town on the backroads so I could enjoy the foggy morning sprinkled with fall leaves and hay rolls.

Once I got to town, I got a much needed massage. My headaches have been out of control the past two months. My PCP gave me a steroid pack that temporarily helped, and I'm trying to not rely on pain medication that I can't even take come my transfer. So, for over an hour, the massage therapist found all kinds of knots and showed me several things I can do myself to keep my neck loose which should help my headaches (I knew I held stress in my neck and shoulders but who knew that helped cause headaches?!?). And on a sad note, she found a pretty nice knot on my lower left hip... two months past PIO and I still relive that cycle.

I left feeling lighter and looser than ever. I could even turn my head properly in lane changes. What a simple fix! I treated myself to one of the new S.onic Splashes (I've had both the Sunshine Berry and the Hawaiian Wave, and both are pretty tasty- if you're okay with fruit pieces in your water). I picked up some tom yum soup from my favorite Thai place- heaven in a bowl! I even ran a bunch of errands but it was no big deal since I was still floating. I ended the day with homemade soup and bread at my family homestead (parents' house) and hugs and kisses from my nephew.

It's amazing how much better I feel. I still don't feel great from the medication, and I am still "it" for our family right now for chores, driving, and daily life.... but I can handle it, with this recharge. I made it through D's surgery (which his ortho specialist said was the most procedures in one case he has ever done- awesome), D's recovery thus far (one ER visit, two doctor appointments, and on his third cast), lots of chauffeuring and cleaning and packing lunches, starting up my most dreaded medication, and working a very long stretch at work. Oh, and a flat tire Thursday. You know, to spice things up a little! If I can handle these past two weeks, I can handle anything!

Lots of Small Updates

We're making slow but steady progress towards our third transfer. We officially told our clinic that we are interested in matching with Family D. D and I sat down in front of some profiles, read through them together, and both concluded that this family seems open, fairly similar to us and a plus is that they have a very good health history. Unlike Family A and Family C, they live completely across the country- on the West Coast.

Going into this the third time, I have lower expectations. Family A was everything we could have asked for, and although I think we will always have a relationship and keep in touch, we will never have a child in common. I think that hurt made choosing this time have less pressure. We just want to find someone we both agreed with. Obviously picking the "perfect" family for us didn't work out. That disappointment clouds our desire to look high and low for another "perfect" family.

So, now we wait for an answer from Family D. We received very quick responses from Family A and C (we had a wait awhile  to hear "no" from Family B). Family D has five kids, so they're probably pretty busy. I hope we don't have to wait too terribly long, though. The clinic said they emailed the family. I hope whichever parent they emailed actually checks their email! If someone emailed D about something important, they might wait awhile for a response! :)

After we both agreed to pursue a match with Family D, I talked with Carol, the embryologist about these embryos. Quality doesn't guarantee success, but we are interested in it. Much to my surprise, she said they are from an excellent clinic she's had good success from before. On top of that, all six embryos are very excellent quality. As in all the very best and second best a blast can be (multicells are rated less stringently, but blasts are rated 1-6 and then with two sets of letters A-C... so there are lots of ratings a blast can be- 6AA, 5AB, 4CC, etc). That makes us feel hopeful.

We've already had our phone conference with the new contract mediator (the CEO who is covering). We prefer the same openness as with our two previous contracts but understand if this family isn't comfortable with that. She will discuss everything with Family D, should they agree to match with us. So, that's one more formality that's checked off the to-do list.

My weekly post-d&c pee stick this weekend was such a faint positive, that I'm sure by tomorrow it would be completely negative. I hope this means no more retained tissue and proper healing. I am so happy to have paid $2.40 rather than $484.00 to monitor this (not to mention the gas, time, hassle, and emotional distress to get to and from clinic).

After having to reschedule twice, I finally have my consultation with Dr. K this week on Wednesday. The genetic testing results came back with no answers. They didn't find anything genetically wrong with the baby. I have a whole list of questions typed up that I want to discuss with him. Please pray for him to have wisdom in my treatment. I'm sure he hates practicing medicine in the age of google and everyone talking to each other online- but I want to address my concerns and advocate for myself (and my future embryos).

Gone

I woke up a couple of days ago to an email saying the mediator who handles our embryo adoption contracts and openness was no longer with the agency. I had recently been in contact with her because as we go into selecting more embryos, there are some concerns I wanted to discuss with her. I don't think I've mentioned it here on the blog, but as we figure out plans for transfer #3 (potentially our last transfer), the stakes are high, and there are some tough decisions to be made.

So mid-decision making, conflicted and sensitive me suddenly becomes alone and stuck. What in the heck?? Why does my favorite person in this whole scenario, the mediator, suddenly leave? She responds to your emails right away, always has a kind word, and genuinely cares about what is happening. Sure there are nice folks at our adoption agency and clinic and monitoring clinic, but she is beyond words. And just like that, gone.

Luckily I contacted the CEO, who is covering at the moment, and she graciously scheduled a time to talk with me yesterday. It was helpful to run our situation by someone who does this every day and KNOWS (openness in embryo adoption is a pretty specialty topic). 

After talking to her, I still had the same conclusion but more clarity and courage in following through with it.

To be continued, if and I when I get more profiles... 3.5 weeks and counting.... :)

Surgery Time

We found out this week that a specialist surgeon we were referred to by D's CMT specialist recommends that D have a pretty extensive foot surgery sooner rather than later. D sprained his ankle about a year and half ago and has been having problems ever since. Unfortunately the sprain was not the problem but a symptom of a bigger problem which is the way his foot is formed due to his disability.

The doctor hopes that by reconstructing the way some of the bones and tendons are, D can have better foot stability thus less pain and less prone to injuries. Not only that- but he is already getting damage to his ankle joint from the way he walks, and at 32, we need his ankle to last a lot longer! Neither of us were ever comfortable with the idea of an elective surgery- until it's gotten to the point it is now- that he can work and walk short distances easily but he has a lot of ankle pain walking more than 15 minutes, even with his custom brace.

Since we've spent close to our life savings on medical bills this year (hence met deductibles and tax claim in progress), and it's very clear there is no way around surgery if he wants to regain a more normal life, we've scheduled it to happen within the next few weeks.

It's overwhelming to think that potentially in the middle of my transfer cycle (if we can ever get matched with embryos and get a thumbs up to proceed), he will be in a casted up. We are putting our futures in the hands of two doctors- Dr. K and D's ortho specialist. It's scary to put so many eggs into two baskets. I hope the surgery works and doesn't bring complications. And I certainly hope the next transfer works. This has to be our season! It just has to be. 

But this brings me back to the reason we are doing this (adoption, fertility treatments) in the first place. On long days, I think about how we could have a 50% chance of a healthy biological child. We could do things the old fashioned way (or try). But we closed that door, because we didn't want to knowingly give our child a hefty chance of exactly what D is going through. My love for a child that doesn't even exist is so great to avoid this at all costs. I don't want my child to have spinal fusion and a long, hard recovery like he has in the past, and I don't want them to get their foot reconstructed- if there is any way around it.

So future child, if your ever read this- we loved you before we knew you. And if we never have a child, that will be why- that we loved so much and nothing else worked out.