North of Hope

“I am helpless.  Without the work of Your hands.  You are able, God, to raise me up again.  I am willing. Lord I will run after you.  I will surrender to the One who always sees me through.”

A few weeks after we lost our baby, I hit rock bottom.  I was driving to a work function and the above song started playing while I was at a stoplight.  I sobbed, and slammed my hands on the steering wheel.  I cried out to God, “Why us… Why does this have to be our story?!”  I called Dave and asked him, through the stream of tears, when my heart would start to heal… When would I not feel so much sadness?  He told me he felt it too.  We were both so torn apart.  But he reminded me of the word surrender.  We needed to surrender all of these feelings of hurt, brokenness, and sadness to God.  His plan was and is difficult to understand, but we must remain faithful.

Dave decided to plan a weekend away in Duluth to celebrate our first anniversary, and it could not have come at a more perfect time.  We needed the love, the laughter and the joy that surrounded us that weekend.  We reflected over our first year of marriage and all of the memories: the positive and those which brought forth growth and reliance on God.  Dave and I wrote letters to one another (as did our parents to us) on our wedding day, and the letters were to be opened on our first anniversary.  Each of our letters spoke of our future children, which of course made us cry.  But it also reminded me of our purpose throughout this infertility journey – to fight for what we have always wanted, which was to be parents.

When we returned home, we had a phone conference with a genetic counselor to discuss the results from our D&C.  She said that 50% of all miscarriages are caused by chromosomal abnormalities, and Trisomy 16 is the most common.  Thankfully, she was reassuring that this had nothing to do with me or anything I did, and I’m at no higher risk to experience this heartbreak again in the future.

Next, we met with Dr. Jenson to discuss subsequent steps.  Since our three remaining embryos were of average quality, we could decide to transfer more than one to increase our chances of conceiving.  But we decided to proceed with one embryo, with hopes of having one healthy baby at a time, and Dr. Jenson was in full support of this plan.  I then went in for a procedure called a sonohysterogram to ensure that my uterus was free from scar tissue and any retained contents of our first pregnancy.  Luckily, everything looked great and we were given the green light to start the medications to prepare for our frozen transfer.

It is important to note that there is a significant difference between the medications used for an egg retrieval and fresh embryo transfer, versus those used in a frozen transfer.  While the injections for a retrieval work to stimulate your ovaries into producing as many follicles/eggs as possible, the meds taken for a frozen cycle aim to keep the ovaries quiet and thicken the lining of the uterus.  The thicker the uterine lining, the more receptive it is to an embryo implanting.  So on Tuesday, September 25^th, I began my daily injections of a medication called Lupron, which prevents ovulation.  That evening, I managed to drop the glass vial on our bathroom floor and screamed as I watched it shatter into pieces.  Since I typically order all of my medications from a distributor in New Jersey (they have the best prices), I called the after-hours nurse in a panic, worried sick about how I was going to get the medication in time for my 6:00am injection the following morning.  She let me know that one pharmacy in Minnesota, which happened to be in downtown Minneapolis, carried this fertility drug and that she would call in an order for another.  I can relate to the mothers who have cried over spilled milk – I most definitely cried as I saw over $600 of medication wasted on the bathroom floor.  And I may or may not have tried to draw it up with a needle and syringe before my husband stopped me and said, “Honey… It’s okay. It’s only money. Things like this happen.”

The Lupron made me feel quite nauseous each day after lunch time, and a few weeks into those injections I added in oral Estrogen tablets, three times a day, to start thickening the lining of my uterus.  These also contributed to the daily nausea, and some pretty severe headaches.  But I would remind myself that it was all worth it.  I still remind myself of this.  On October 17^th, we had an ultrasound to check the progress of my lining, and while it was reacting to the medications, it wasn’t where my doctor wanted it to be.  So, I increased my Estrogen dosage and went back for a recheck later in the week.  Luckily, my body responded well, and we were given our official frozen embryo transfer date of October 26^th!  The weekend prior to our transfer, I started nightly shots in my bottom of Progesterone in Oil.  I was so accustomed to my multiple abdominal injections daily that those really didn’t phase me anymore.  But when it came to putting an inch and a half long, visibly thick needle into my butt?!  Yeah, that one wasn’t as easy.  Dave helped me with this injection, and I have to say that he took his role quite seriously 🙂  He would wash his hands, and hold them in the air afterward, like a surgeon would when preparing for surgery.  My husband always tries to bring light to any dark situation – I love him for that.  I would then lay on the bed with our sweet dog, Nash, by my head to keep me distracted.  A bit different than most couples’ night time routines, but it was ours.

On the 26^th, we made our way back to our clinic in Woodbury for the transfer procedure.  We were told that there was a 10% risk that our embryo would not survive the thaw process, so we would need to be prepared for that.  In the event of that situation occurring, they would move on to our next strongest embryo.  But our little baby made it through, and we were thrilled to see the microscopic picture of him/her when our embryologist joined us in the procedure room.  Dave and I went in to this transfer much more calm, I think due to the fact that we had been through it before and knew what to expect.  We of course were terrified of another negative outcome, but aimed to keep our attitude positive and hopeful.  The transfer went seamlessly, Dr. Jenson once again told our embryo to “Stick and Grow,” and we were on our way to my acupuncture appointment immediately after.  I had started acupuncture after our previous transfer, as there is research behind it contributing to success in IVF.  Hey – we were willing to do anything to increase our chances, even if it meant more needles!

On the Monday following our transfer (which took place on a Friday), a large fear of mine came true.  I became sick – and not the pregnancy, potential morning-sickness kind of sick.  Flu-like symptoms washed over me and wreaked havoc on my body for four long days.  I saw a doctor for this and told her about our recent IVF transfer, asking if the illness could be related to any of the medications or antibiotics I was taking.  She suspected the cause to be a viral illness of some kind, and encouraged me to stay as hydrated as possible.  I was trying all that I could, but couldn’t help feeling panicked.  How could our baby survive through this?  On Friday, a week after our transfer, I finally started to turn the corner, and we would be taking our pregnancy test the following Monday!  This ten-day wait was not filled with fun dinner outings and peaceful distractions like last time.  It was consumed with illness and worry, and I prayed more than I think I ever have before that God had protected our baby through it all.

On Monday morning, I went in to our clinic and had my blood drawn, and then to work to keep my mind occupied.  I again left for home at 1:30pm, and not even five minutes into my drive, I received the phone call.  There was no way I could let the call go to voicemail, so I decided to answer and would subsequently relay the information to Dave.  The nurse on the line said the following:

“Hi Emily, I am calling to give you the results of your pregnancy test.  Unfortunately, we have a negative result today.  I am so very sorry.”

I was devastated.  I was numb.  She apologized repeatedly, and told me to stop all of my pregnancy-sustaining medications.  Beyond that, I didn’t hear anything else she had to say.  After the call was complete I immediately called Dave.  He was strong for me on the phone, but when I hung up I knew he would be crying, just as I was.  I fell into his arms when I got home.  And when I somewhat composed myself, I sat down to write in my journal, which I had done all throughout our infertility journey.  I have decided to conclude this post with that journal entry, as no words can describe what I was going through in that moment better than these:

“Our test was negative.  And my heart?  Shattered.  God, I’m mad at you.  Why do we have to go through this??  The continual bad news, the heartbreak, the endless sadness.  Why does this have to happen to us?!  We believe in you.  We are good people.

Why can’t I make Dave a dad?  It’s one of his top goals and priorities in life and I feel such guilt in this moment that I can’t give him that honor.

What is wrong with my body?  Why do I have to keep going through all of this, feeling physically and emotionally terrible?

I can’t bear to see another social media post of a new baby or a pregnancy announcement – it hurts me to the core.  Being surrounded by people who seem to get pregnant so easily (for some I realize this is not the case) makes me feel SO alone.  I want to throw in the towel and say “enough of this”.  But I want a baby more.  I want to just stop all of the needles, the sickness, the stress… But I know that this will just delay our only potential of becoming parents.  So I must rise up.  I must continue on.  We. Will. Beat. This.”

I think it’s important to mention that while we did not get pregnant on this cycle, we still mourn the loss of our baby.  That embryo was a baby.  And we will forever remember and honor him/her, along with our first heavenly child.

XO,
Em

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