Our transfer was Monday. Two beautiful embryos – everything looked good. Unfortunately, two was all we ended up with – none to freeze. So this is it. Our last try. Because we did a lupron trigger to avoid hyperstimulation syndrome, I’m currently wearing 3 estrogen patches and changing them every other day and my hubby is giving a me a shot of progesterone in my booty every night. It’s worth it though – all of the shots, the hormone rollercoaster, the discomfort, all worth it for the chance to have a beautiful miracle growing inside of me. Today I went in for a level check and my estrogen level was a little low. So the doctor added two estrace tabs every day and asked that I come back in on Monday. The nurse who called told me the doctor didn’t sound worried and when she couldn’t answer all my questions – God bless her – she called the doctor back and got the information and then called me back. (No my questions weren’t about dosing or why – they were more are you sure the doctor wasn’t worried – and does this mean we should worry) She called back to tell me he really wasn’t worried – he just wants to get it a bit higher and he has had to do this for other women too. (I’m being optimistic and assuming he brought them in as an example b/c they ended up pregnant)
So where am I mentally right now? I’m chewing my nails to the quick playing the what if song. I’m crying on the way to the grocery store b/c the Mandisa song “Stronger” was playing when I got in the car and sent my text to my prayer warrior girl friends (don’t worry I sent the text before driving) . I’m analyzing every twinge and trying to identify a cause while thinking does this mean we’re not pregnant. I’m laying on the couch with my hand cupped over my belly as if I can hold those little beans in just by force of my thoughts. There are moments that I’m happy and hopeful and planning how to rearrange the downstairs bedroom and imagining a sweet little girl or another joyful boy. But above all I’m praying. I find myself constantly whispering, sobbing, shouting, pleading, crying, or mentally begging God for a Sun Stand Still miracle. Everyonce in awhile I find myself fighting against the whispers of the devil – the who do you think you are asking for a miracle when you’ve already been given one – the how dare you ask for this when there are people dying and starving all over the world – why would God answer such a selfish little prayer for you – you who try to be good but mess up more often than not. I haven’t been beaten down yet though. I hear those whispers and I remind myself that my God is greater than that. That my God loves me no matter how badly I mess up over and over again – He forgives me. That my God is capable of great things and small things. That he parted the Red Sea and made the Sun Stand Still and so many times blessed women over and over with children. Women who had no hope. That knowledge gives me hope and helps me resist the sibilant whispers of the serpent.
Earlier this week one of my friends told me she thought I was very brave for posting our journey in updates on Facebook – for sharing what we’re going through with the public. Honestly I have two responses to that the first is that maybe my journey can help someone else. Maybe that’s why God chose this path for us. But my second response – well it’s not as noble – see I think I’m selfish for posting our journey b/c I get something from it too. I get encouragement and reassurance and prayers and this sense that we’re not alone. So many of my friends have been here too. Several of my facebook friends are women I’ve never met face to face, but I’ve cried with them and for them and rejoiced with them too. They’re blog buddies that have journied down the same road so they get it. I continue to be amazed at the number of women I’ve come across in my life that face this same struggle. So I wonder has the number grown that much in recent years ( and if it has does that scare anyone else?) or has it just become more okay to talk about it – to share this painful journey with your friends?
So can you tell my emotions are everywhere? My poor hubby just keeps hugging me when he can, letting me rant when I need to, calming me with reason when possible, and talking to those little beans in my belly – encouraging them to hold on and grow big and strong. (I have the sweetest, best hubby in the world) So what’s with the title – finally? Well our transfer was on Monday – we will take our first blood test to check for pregnancy in 10 days on wednesday the 10th. 10 days on this rollercoaster. 10 more days of pleading, begging prayers ( Of course the prayers won’t stop after 10 days – they’ll just change) 10 more days of crazy, anxious, nervewracking worry. 10 more days. Who knew 10 days could feel like a lifetime?