I am still confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the Lord
Psalm 27: 13-14

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

I'm not going to lie...

Sometimes it's so much easier to say "I will be okay no matter what..." when you aren't going through the "no matter what" part.
Sometimes it's easier to put up walls around your heart so you feel "protected" from heart ache.
Sometimes life is rough, confusing, INFURIATING.

I'm not going to lie.  A few weeks ago, my mind was in the "I'll be okay no matter the outcome" mindset.  I was so logical and "brave faced". 
Now being IN the "outcome" point...I'm just not okay.
I WILL be okay...but right now, I'm not.  I'm disappointed.  I'm sad.  I'm heart broken.

We had a frozen embryo transfer on April 1st.  I guess my mind went straight to the "am I going to turn out the fool?" when I heard my transfer day.

I will say we were blessed by two precious embryos developing in to blastocyt stage.  I won't go in to explanation or medical terminology as to the difference.  Simply put, a blastocyt is further developed than an embryo.  In transfer language and stats, one blast is similar to transferring two embryo, but GREATLY decreasing the chance of multiples (which is where we are at.  We will never, ever, ever do a multiple embryo/blast transfer again as we are terrified of the risk of a 3rd multiple pregnancy). 

We did lose two sweet embryos in this process, but I fully believe that one day I will meet even these precious two little children one day in heaven. 

On April 1st we had our transfer.  And the 2ww (two week wait) began to see if this sweet precious little one would snuggle in.

I knew we had a strike against us.  My endometrial lining no longer wants to respond to medication, or thicken like it "needs" too.  My clinic prefers a minimum lining of 7mm.  But after 2 cancelled cycles due to poor response on my body's behalf, we came to the conclusion that .5mm under the "optimal minimum" would suffice.

It was all in God's hands.

I prayed He would grant this precious one life.  And for whatever time this little one tried inside me...he/she lived.  Even if it was minutes.

Yesterday was my birthday.  Another year older.  I secretly hoped I wouldn't hear the answer from my blood test from the weekend on my birthday.  I didn't want that to be something that would mark my birthday.  I was relieved that my doctor here does not work on Monday's, however, she must have been curious too because...I got the call.
When I answered and heard her assistant...I knew the results.  I knew it wasn't good, or my doctor would have called to celebrate.  Instead, the assistant called.  And my heart plunged to the ground.
What a great birthday present to hear that once again, your body has betrayed you and another little one.

I know, that's irrational and unfair thinking on my behalf.  I know that many women conceive and lose a child even without knowing.  I know that blaming myself and my body is not what I should logically do.
But when you hear nothing but "negative" year after year after year after (well, 11 years worth)...it gets really heart breaking and numbing.

Before our transfer, after and through the wait, I kept assuring myself I would be okay.  I was just relieved that we were able to go for the transfer at all.  The way things have been going with my body, we didn't even know if that was ever going to happen.  And transferring with a "lesser" lining...I knew it was a hit against us.  But I also knew that God is bigger.  I knew that if this little one was to grace this earth, God would be bigger and would be thicker than any lining I may need. 

I know God did not let me down.  I know He did not "take away" a miracle.  But I won't lie.  I feel hurt.  I just hoped.  And hope is becoming harder and harder to hold on to.

After I heard the news, I felt like I had doomed my little one right from the start.  Like I received this little one to an awaiting tomb.  My mom HATES that I call my body a tomb.  And she is right...it's not right to talk to my body this way.  It's just where my mind goes...because that is the lie that gets thrown at me.  Have I ever said how very much I love my mommy!  Seriously!! 

Before the "negative"...I think my gut always knew the answer, but I had really secretly hoped.  I generally REFUSE to let myself day dream or think of the future of a positive.  It is waaaaaay too dangerous for my heart.  BUT, for the briefest moment...I had day dreamed.  I had let my guard down.  And then hearing that this little one would never bless our home and family...my heart broke.

Please don't start thinking or telling me about how I am already blessed and that I should just be grateful for Evan.  I KNOOOOOW how blessed I am.  I am the FIRST to know.  Don't roll your eyes and release a big sigh about how ungrateful I might sound.  Don't presume to understand if you have not been in the same situation.  And do NOT try to tell me that this little one didn't really exist just because it did not implant.  This Little One was my DNA, my husband's DNA...this Little One was created, dividing, living, growing.  This Little One existed indeed.

The heart break I feel over the loss of this little one is unique to THIS LITTLE ONE.  It has nothing to do as a reflection on what blessings I HAVE been given.  It is not a sign of lack of love to Evan.  It is not a sign of my ungratitude or lack of appreciation that I have more than some.  I HAVE been that person dreaming and wishing I could be in another persons shoes wishing and praying I could at least have one child or a chance at a child.  I've been empty armed, I've walked away from treatments empty handed and broken.
I've silently screamed inside as I listened to women whining and complaining about pregnancy while I would have given my right arm for it.
I do get it.  And I do understand how someone might look at my situation, someone still hurting and longing, and maybe think I'm being over-emotional over this loss. 

I truly know how blessed I am.  I don't need to be reminded of that.  I just need the opportunity to grieve the loss of the Little One.  And then I will be able to process and move forward.

These losses truly do make me appreciate the gift and miracle of conception even more.  When you live in the world of ARTs (Artificial Reproductive Technology), you have no choice but to know when eggs have been retrieved, fertilized, transferred, and hopefully implanted.  You KNOW at the time of transfer that this little one was dividing and growing as it should.  But when you hear that negative...then you know, your body did not accept it.  And THAT my friends, it a very tough pill to swallow...no matter WHAT the reasons may or may not have been.  When you live in the world of ARTs...you come to realize how precious each little one is, and how surprising there are as many children conceived (naturally or OUR naturally - ARTs).  It's a fine dance.  I fine line.  You have no idea.

I look at Evan, I look at Zac's pictures...and I see that miracle.  That wonder.  That amazement of conception and birth.  I also see what all can go wrong, and what all can go right. 
I look at the one and only ultrasound picture I had of Jack, Ethan and where Whisper had been for a very short while...and you know.
Life is fragile and precious.

My grief over these lost FETs isn't because Evan is not enough.  By NO means.  But is it so wrong to have been given a taste of the joy of loving a child so much that we would love to share that love with another child, and give Evan the joy of a sibling!? 
It's because we know love. 
And because we have these little ones still.
And we would love to know them.  To experience them.  To have them a part of our family.

Yes, if our remaining 2 blasts do not produce a pregnancy or a living child...it too will be heartbreaking.  It too will be a loss.  Especially because after these two little ones are hopefully transferred (Lord willing my body will even ALLOW me to get to that point.  Lots of prayers needed there!), after the final transfer...that is it.  There are no more chances.  Our journey comes to an end.

I know that miracles and miracle conceptions happen.  I've been witness to a few extremely precious miracle babies...but someone elses story does not equate what may happen for us.  I'm not being negative and speaking "dark" in to our lives...I'm realistic.  I'm too grown up to live in someone elses blessing and miracle. 
What one person is blessed with, and one persons story is NOT a "sign" that it can/will happen for us.
And it's not about what we "deserve".  It's not that we "deserve" another child or that joy.  We'd LOVE it...but it's not like we are "owed" it.  Each person's story is unique. 

I know I will be okay.  My heart is beginning to heal from this.  I know I have two choices...sit in anger and self blame and self pity...or get myself refocused.  Focus on my relationship with my God, who I KNOW has great plans, whatever that may or may not involve.  I KNOW His love is beyond imagine for me.  And I KNOW that He wants the very best for us.  So...instead of continuing to allow myself to listen to the devil's lies and condemnation, I choose to continue to rely on God's unending love.  Yes, I'm sad that this Little One did not make it, but I know who holds this Little One.  I know that God's hand is protecting this little life until we meet again.
And I guess I can find peace in the fact that this Little One WAS with me, even for a little while.  In the warmth of it's mommy. 

I am so aware of how lucky and blessed I am with even the opportunity of doing these transfers for a CHANCE at another living child.  I am blessed. 

I am so aware of how lucky and blessed I am with the children I HAVE been blessed with.  Even if 4 of my 5 conceived children wait for me in heaven. 

I am sooooooooooooooooooo aware of how lucky and blessed I am to be HONORED with the GIFT of mothering Evan.  I truly never dreamed I'd ever get this chance.  I spent months after the boys were born watching Evan in NICU...wondering...would I ever get the chance to hold him outside of a hospital?  Would he ever come home?

So yes, I know without a doubt how blessed I am.  I am first in line to shout that from a roof top! 

Regardless...it's still hard to lose a child...no matter WHAT stage of life.

Like my title says, today I just can't lie.


  1. I'm so sorry to hear that you're not pregnant. This is such a wonderful post in that it is 100% true; a child lost is a child lost, and it doesn't matter how old/developed that child was when he passed, what other children you have or where they are. Each child is loved in his own unique way.

  2. You already know every word you write is so much in my heart. Love you friend. XOXO

  3. You have become a good friend Heather. Thank you for that. Thinking of you and Happy Belated Birthday!

  4. I'm sorry the outcome wasn't the one you had hoped for :(