Sailing into our 2nd Embryo Transfer!

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Last I left off we were anxiously awaiting to see if my lining had grown at all with the new added “Vag candy”. Heading into today’s appointment I was beyond nervous. I knew that if my lining hadn’t improved over this past week we would likely be heading for a canceled cycle. I know that might not sound like a big deal but believe me it is. We have been preparing for this transfer for 50 days.

50 days of preparing

A lot can happen in 50 days, thats a whole lot of life being put on hold. A whole lot of stress, anxiety and more. A whole boat load of medications and time. Not only are all of those things important factors in why a canceled cycle would be devastating but there is also the insurance side of things. Right now we are lucky enough to be fully covered by our insurance for up to 6 IVF cycles per live birth. Each cycle whether successful or not counts towards that 6 including canceled cycles. We had a lot riding on whether we would be approved to move forward or not. We have already done two cycles and this would be our third. To miss this opportunity would genuinely be devastating for us.

I’m guessing that our guardian angels up above were watching over us at our appointment today because we some how managed to get some good news. While its not perfect, my lining improved to approximately 7.5mm. 7mm is the minimum threshold my clinic will accept to transfer embryos so we genuinely made it by the skin of our teeth! While it would have been wonderful to hear that it was over 8mm at this point we are going with the motto that ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ and we are just blessed to be able to move forward with this cycle and transfer.

In the time between last week’s disappointing appointment, where we saw no growth, to this weeks appointment, I have done A LOT of research on endometrial linings and outcomes. The general thought is the thicker the better, however, much of the research out there points to trilaminar appearance being the most important. In my case, while my lining isn’t super thick, it still meets the minimum requirement, and given that it is trilaminar in appearance we were given the green light to move forward.

Starting tomorrow I will no longer take my morning lupron shots, instead I will add in endometrin suppositories twice a day, progesterone in oil at night, antibiotics, steroids and drop down to two estrogen patches every other day. Let’s just hope that everything goes according to the plan this time around! My embryos are begin shipped back up from PA on friday so they will be ready for mondays big day!

Hoping, wishing and praying for smooth sailing into this transfer and pregnancy!! Bring on our rainbow baby!

As always, wishing you and yours lots of love luck and baby dust!

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Creating a whole new meaning to smurfette.

Well, once again my lovely murphy’s law wining streak has continued. Not only did my lining not grow, it appeared to be even less than the previous week… don’t ask me how this science stuff is confusing!!

Last week my lining came in at a mere 6mm. Today’s measurements were between 5.5mm and 6 mm. Honestly, I’m not sure I can describe for you the frustration that comes from knowing your pumping your body with all sorts of meds and it just refuses to cooperate. It makes you start to question everything.

Given the fact that my lining still has not grown I now have to continue on with my four patches of estrogen daily and now I get the opportunity to enjoy what is loving called “vag candy” in the IVF world.

You read that right… Vag Candy.. aka vagina meds

So what does this vag candy deal include, well allow me to elaborate. Twice a day I get to insert my little blue estrogen pills where the sun don’t shine. The best part about all of this is not only do I get to try to play the guessing game of where did that little pill go, but I also get to deal with what the IVF warriors call “smurf vag”. So delicately named for the lovely blue that comes back out after the meds have been absorbed. Actually it reminds me a lot of the blue they always use on those pad commercials to show how absorbent they are. You know because how dare they use the color red. I mean at least I can proudly say I am the owner of a smurfette vagina… those things have got to be a hot commodity right? I think I’ll consider it to be a rare gem in the world of vaginas.

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Might as well call it Smurfette and the infertility beast!

Anywho, given that I had not responded at all to my previous meds I also decided to request viagra for my lady bits. Yup, they actually have female viagra that can be used to help plump up your lining.

Imagine my poor future children learning in horror that I not only proudly called my vagina a smurfette, but also publicly admitted to taking lady viagra twice a day in an attempt to create them!

Excuse me while I go drink some pomegranate juice with my legs up in the air while sporting a rare blue vagina! If my poor husband didn’t think I was crazy before, I’m certain he is convinced now. Let’s hope this all pays off, otherwise they will likely have to cancel my cycle and that is a horse of a completely different color 😉

Until next time, wishing you and yours lots of love luck and baby dust!

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The only thing that infertility can guarantee is that there are no guarantees.

The only thing that infertility can guarantee is there is no guarantees.

We are currently preparing for our second frozen embryo transfer (FET). Preparation for said transfer began way back on May 1st with cycle day one. At which point I began taking birth control pills for 14 days. About half way through that process I began to take a daily dose of 10 units of Lupron to suppress my ovaries. On May 9th I went in for my initial ‘suppression check’ where they basically check to make sure your ovaries are fully suppressed and that your blood levels look good to begin the process of medically creating the most inviting womb for your new little one to settle into.

Sounds oh so natural right?

Once everything looks sufficiently suppressed (hello early menopause) you begin the process of growing your lining via transdermal estrogen patches at increasing variables for the next several weeks. After about 4 full weeks of pumping your system with synthetic hormones you come back for what’s known as your final ‘lining’ check. The goal here is to have a trilaminar (or triple stripe) appearance with a lining which is at bare minimum 7 mm but hopefully significantly thicker. If all looks good you switch up your med profile by reducing estrogen intake, adding progesterone injections and inserts and a few days of steroids and antibiotics.

If it sounds complicated its because it is… Infertility and IVF is basically one giant science experiment.

My ‘final lining’ check was scheduled for June 6th. Last time around things had gone pretty smoothly so I figured there was no need for Jason to join me at this appointment since I already knew what to expect. Well, that was my first mistake because any good infertility warrior knows that whenever you “expect” something it just never goes your way.

Cue my “murphy’s law multi-winner lottery’ luck!

As soon as the image came up on the ultrasound screen I knew something was wrong. My lining looked very thin, in fact it looked about the same as it did four weeks prior at my suppression check. My RE said, well lets get some measurements but it does not look nearly thick enough for a transfer. It measured in at a barely 6mm. My personal goal was 10mm (the thicker, the better when it comes to sticky embryos!). I quickly sat up and tried to process what had just happened.

Four long weeks of hormones and nothing to really show for it.

My RE assured me that I likely just needed a few more days of estrogen at a larger dose and it would probably be fine in about a week. She mentioned that she did not think this was related to my recent D/C and was hopefully that by adding oral estrogen and keeping me on four patches of estrogen a day I would look ready to go. Then she briefly mentioned that was unless I had ovulated spontaneously. She figured that was highly unlikely but in an effort to calm my anxiety she offered to test my bloods just to make sure.

Thankfully, I did not get a follow up phone call from the nurse (a ‘No news is good news’ kinda gig). So for the past week I have been taken 2 mg of oral estrogen twice a day (4 mg total) plus four patches of estrogen every other day. So in a 24 hour period I am on approximately 5mg of estrogen. I know it doesn’t sound like much but when it comes to estrogen less is always more especially when it’s left unchecked by progesterone to help balance it out. Another lovely benefit of IVF and all these meds is the increased rate of cancer. In this case high levels of estrogen over prolonged periods of time is related to increased endometrial cancer. Yay!

Amongst adding the higher level of estrogen I of course went on a mission to figure out how I can help my body grow a thicker lining over a mere week’s time span. Thanks to my infertility warriors on Instagram I have concocted a nice list of all the enhancing strategies out there!

  • Fertility Yoga Poses! Including the legs up against the wall, butterfly and bridge poses.
  • Beets and beet root juice
  • Pomegranate juice
  • Brazil nuts
  • Raspberry Leaf Tea
  • Red Bean soup
  • Acupuncture
  • Exercise for 20 to 30 minutes daily
  • Fertility massages
  • Orgasms (yup at least one of these is a pleasant addition!)

I’m sure there are tons more out there, but these ones came the mostly highly recommended. Considering I already was doing pomegranate juice, beets, yoga poses, and acupuncture, I decided to add in some daily exercise, raspberry leaf tea and orgasms (yup might as well get something fun out of this gig!)

So here I am about a week later anxiously waiting to find out whether all of these interventions were successful or not. My follow up final lining check is scheduled for tomorrow June 12th. The day of our originally scheduled transfer. But I like to think this happened for a reason, because my uncle unexpectedly passed away last week and I need to travel to Virginia to attend his services. I wouldn’t have been able to do that had we transferred this week. You know what they say, all things happen in God’s timing.

P.S. I finally saw a rainbow (well two mini ones) let’s hope that’s a positive sign!

As always, wishing you and yours lots of love, luck and baby dust!

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Four times the fun…Hysterscopy, Uterine Biopsy, Mock Transfer and Endometrial Scratch.

Hi all!

It’s been a little while since I’ve filled you in on where we are in the whole baby making process. Following our missed miscarriage back in March and our D/C I decided to take the entire month of April off to just try and be “normal”. Not that I have any idea as to what normal is anymore. Infertility has robbed that from us. But in an effort to try and get a glimmer of what is ‘normal’ I basically stopped doing all the things I had been when pregnant or trying to be pregnant. This included going on a binge and eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted … cue the excess weight gain. I also started going out with friends for cocktails, partying it up when appropriate (friend’s bachelorette and bridal shower etc), I stopped taking my zillion vitamins daily and gave the good old avocados and pomegranate juice a break. Lastly, I took a full month off from any needles that includes shots as well as acupuncture.

As you can image all of this wild and crazy infertility rule breaking behavior lead me to feel less than stellar! So starting May first I tried to slowly reel myself back in as we begin to prepare for IVF round 3, our 2nd Frozen Embryo Transfer. Following my D/C I was kind of left hanging as to what the next steps would be. I knew I needed to get my next cycle and then I had to have a series of tests/procedures done but I didn’t have any set timeframe. April was truly a weird month. Part of me was excited to be taking a bit of break, part of me felt guilty, part of me was sad that I wasn’t pregnant and the other part of me just wanted to hurry everything along and get started on the next steps!

Thankfully my loving body gave in fairly quickly and I started a new cycle on May 1st! I swear I never thought I would be so happy to have aunt flow show her grizzly face. But the start of af meant I could finally call my clinic and get the ball rolling on everything else. Little did I know those next few steps would be less than impressive.

A week or so after af started/stopped I had my first appointment back at the RE’s office. I was scheduled for a hysterscopy, a uterine biopsy, a mock transfer, and an endometrial scratch. Doesn’t sound particularly too complicated until I realized I would be WIDE AWAKE with zero pain control during all of this.

Wait hold up, you want to stick what? in where? while I am awake!? Can’t a sister get a little pain support over here?? Crickets… guess I’m on my own while I clutch a bottle of advil.

On wednesday of this past week I came in for my quadruple office procedure. I had followed the directions to take 800mg of ibuprofen an hour before and just in case I had taken some anxiety meds. Needless to say these all proved to be completely useless once the procedure began. Thankfully, my instagram IVF community had warned me I was in for a major pain experience. They were not exaggerating.

My doctor warned me when she entered the room that for some women the procedure is only slightly uncomfortable and for others the pain can be so severe that the procedure needs to be ended early. I will allow you a moment to guess which side of that spectrum I fell on …. It was excruciatingly painful.. as in I screamed out loud “Holy Fuck!! That hurts!” as tears streamed down my face.

Step 1 – Set up & Mock Transfer: It all started with the typical get undressed from the waist down, plop your feet up in these lovely stirrups, and lets get this party started gig. I’ve done this part thousands of times! I’m like an old pro. Then came the dreaded speculum, but just in case this wasn’t already a party, I got to add a special additional friend… a cervical clamp to the mix..yay!

The cervical clamp immediately caused cramping but those were mild in comparison to what was coming next. My RE told me she would do a ‘mock transfer’ first whereby she inserts the same sized catheter they use on transfer day to practice placement in my uterus. Round 1 went smoothly with only mild discomfort. Since that wasn’t fun enough she decided to go for round 2 just to make sure she had it just right! Well lucky me she pushed in too far and jabbed the back of my uterus… cue the knives!! It felt like a sharp knife was poking my insides. Not pleasant.

Step 2- Hysterscopy: First step was to insert an even wider catheter so that she could conduct the hysterscopy. Side note: I once dated someone who sold medical devices.. these cameras to be exact. In that moment I thought back to how I use to laugh and play with these mini camera’s at his house thinking “those poor souls who have to have these inserted in their neither regions”… Flash forward to me waiting anxiously for one of those bad boys to be shoved in my lady bits…’Karma you really can be a bitch’ I thought as I realized I was now one of those poor unfortunate souls.. except I wasn’t even getting the common courtesy of anesthesia, it was just me and the hysterscopy camera coming face to face for what I hope to be the first and last time ever.

While this part was less than comfortable, cue more cramping as my uterus is being filled with saline and a camera probe is being moved around inside to check for scarring and any other issues, the pain was manageable. The one cool part about all of this was that I actually got to watch it all go down the big screen. I got to see what the inside of my uterus actually look like! Now its not every day that you get to say that! Jason on the other hand was less than thrilled. He peaked once and immediately regretted it as he apparently can’t handle the medical parts of this gig. He started asking “does anyone care about me? I’m about to pass out”… Sorry buck-a-roo I’m the one with a camera up my whoo-ha ain’t nobody checking in on you. Thankfully all looked good so it was on to the next steps.

Step 3/4- Uterine biopsy & Endometrial Scratch aka HELL: Thinking that I am almost in the clear, I figured this next step wouldn’t be so bad.. Nothing could be further from the truth. Ladies.. If you ever have to have a uterine biopsy done, please do yourself a favor and ask to be knocked out.

I felt like I was back in the 1800’s when shoddy medical practices were conducted with nothing more than a swig of alcohol and a dirty cloth shoved in your mouth to quiet the screaming. The pain was no joke.

 After removing the hysterscopy camera my RE inserted what must now be known as a straight torture device. I never got to see what it looked like, but I sure as hell felt it. She started to “scratch” my uternine lining to be collected for the biopsy as well as to help create a more inviting uterine lining for my upcoming transfer. She wasn’t in there for more than a few seconds when the pain set in. It felt like a someone was taking their very sharp finger nails and just scrapping/digging at my insides. My whole uterus began spasming and clamping down. I was in agony. She quickly stopped and asked if she should be done. I told her to just try to finish as quickly as she could (because thats what infertility does to you.. you become the biggest warrior and will do anything to get to that baby!). Upon starting up again the pain intensified to the point where I almost blacked out. She stopped and told me to try and relax my muscles, but to lay still and not to get up for fear I would collapse.

And just like that it was all over. The entire procedure probably only took about 20-30 minutes but it felt like an eternity. I’m glad I went through with it all as I hope to set myself up for success on this next transfer. But I can tell you this, if I ever have to do that procedure again I will request to be knocked out. Looking back I think it was my endometriosis that made it so painful, everything in that general area for me is always inflamed and uncomfortable. Cheer’s to moving forward with happy and healthy uterus!

Until next time, as always, wishing you and yours lots of love, luck and baby dust!

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National Infertility Awareness Week

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It’s National Infertility Awareness Week

If you asked me a year ago if I would be writing this blog today, I would say no way. Last year at this time I was coming to the dreaded conclusion that I was likely 1 in 8, the current statistic associated with infertility. Just last April I was impatiently awaiting my first doctor’s appointment with my OB/GYN to discuss my infertility concerns. Even though I knew I had been trying for well over a year unsuccessfully I still hadn’t come to the full realization that I was about to be diagnosed with infertility. Until that point that term was somewhat foreign to me. I knew what it meant, but I tried to think of it as a distant term, that kind of term that won’t happen to me. Sort of like cancer. Everyone knows what cancer is, you know it’s this horrible disease that destroys lives, but you always sort of think of it in a distant type of way. Sort of like you are trying to protect yourself, like ‘that can’t happen to me right?’.

A diagnosis of infertility is very similar. You hear about it on TV or read about it online. You may know someone who struggles with it but you don’t truly ever think it could be yours. Until it is. Nothing can prepare you for the finality of the words “you have infertility”. For some reason our society has kept the concept of fertility and infertility a secret. It’s like the giant elephant in the room. Everyone knows how babies are made but no one talks about it. No one talks about the struggles, the process, the trials and tribulation it takes to get to the end goal of a little one. All we ever focus on is the happy bits, the pregnancy announcements, the baby showers, the first pictures and so on.

But what about all the in-between’s.

I think its time we start talking about the in-between. That’s what infertility is after all. It’s the indefinite in-between from the time you decide you want to have a child, to the time when you find out that it’s not as easy as they make it look in the movies. It’s the time spent waiting… so much waiting. Waiting for each month, waiting for the next test, the next doctor’s visit, the next specialist, the next procedure, the next dose of medicine, the next blood work result, the next ultrasound, the never ending next’s. And with all this waiting it’s hard to imagine why we expect people to hide in silence, to cry behind closed doors, to be left alone feeling like they are the only ones suffering. Why do we make something that is already so hard, that much harder?

I challenge you to end the silence, start a conversation, to reach out for support. There is so much support out there if you just ask. As hard as it is to break the silence barrier, I have decided it’s so worth it. I started this blog a few months back as our IVF journey was beginning. That wasn’t even close to the beginning of our infertility journey but at the time it seemed like it was the ‘real start’, the part that society would finally accept as being true infertility. I challenge that thought too.

Our infertility battle started closer to three years ago. Well before the doctor’s visits and the tests and the IVF. It started with the month after month of disappointment, negative tests and tears when someone else posted their pregnancy announcement. Each one of those announcements seemed to stack the deck further against us… “why is it so easy for them?”, “what’s wrong with me?” the list goes on and on. The truth is, because of the silent stigma regarding infertility I had no way of knowing if those other couples had struggled just as much as we were. Maybe that was their rainbow baby, maybe that was their one miracle.

It would have helped so much to know that, to know that we weren’t alone.

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This year as I look back at how far we have come, and how far we still have to go as we search for our rainbow baby, I realize I can no longer sit in silence. I must advocate for myself, but more importantly for others who do not feel supported enough to do so. I have broken the infertility silence barrier and there is no going back. I have announced openly on all of my social media accounts that we are 1 in 8. I will #flipthescript. I won’t suffer in silence anymore and I challenge you to feel empowered to do the same.

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flip the script

Sometimes miracles only last for but a mere moment… Our angel baby

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Today was a hard day. We were scheduled for our follow up ultrasound. Today I was exactly 7 weeks pregnant. All morning long I tried to remain upbeat and positive. Hopeful that God would grant us a miracle and that our little one would have grown significantly over the past 7 days of waiting. I prayed over and over again. I put on my lucky IVF socks and t-shirt. I held my lucky tiger’s eye crystal and we made our way to the clinic.

On the way to the clinic Jason chose to play some relaxation/mediation music. We talked about non-related items. I sensed he was more nervous than I was. I had awoken in the morning with some sense of calm. It was a calm that gave me a sense of peace knowing that today we would have some answers. The unknown is truly the hardest part for me. I suffer from anxiety, anything unknown is a challenge. I know that am a warrior, I have been through so much in my life,  once I know what I need to overcome I just do it. But the unknown, well if you don’t know what you have to overcome, then how can you overcome it?

We arrived at the clinic and it was unusually busy. I think in our entire 6 months of attending appointments the most people I had ever seen in the waiting room were two. Today there were closer to 8 others anxiously awaiting their own news whatever that may be. As we were waiting one young women came out very happy and mentioned that she was just waiting for the doctor who needed to check on one thing from her ultrasound before she left. I thought to myself, I wonder if she is pregnant. For moment in time I felt envious of her clearly good news.

Soon they called us back, it was my one of my least favorite nurses. She brought us back to the dreaded exam room #3. That room had so much negative energy that I almost immediately knew this wasn’t going to go well. It’s the same room from the week previously, its the room I was in when I had my first failed IUI and its the same room when I was told I wasn’t responding well to my stim meds. Just a whole lot of negativity. I tried to change my mindset back to positive mode but I quickly began to become upset. Jason was quick to comfort me, he reminded me to take a deep breath and not loose hope.

The doctor came and was fairly somber, she asked how I was and reminded me of what she would be looking for. I laid down and prepared for the news, whatever it may be. I watched as the image came up on the screen. There it was, the same tiny gestational sac, minor growth but nothing inside of the sac. It was empty. I knew then it was over. In that moment I asked for image of our angel baby. Grief washed over Jason as he realized this was the end. We had to say good bye before it ever really began. He wept. I did not. In this state of shock, a numbness had come over me. I switched into my natural ‘survival mode’. I shut off all my emotions and became very methodical instead. I asked questions regarding next steps, I signed paperwork for a D & C (Dilation & Curettage) and I asked what to expect as I recovered from our first miscarriage.

I tried to stay in this ‘survival mode’ as they moved us to a consultation room to fill out the paperwork for the D&C surgery. The nurses tried to comfort us but all I wanted was to go home. I felt cold and numb. Jason, poor Jason felt a loss I’m sure he never could have imagined. He was broken, and I was broken to see him like this. I knew I couldn’t fix it. I am a ‘fixer’ a heart. How could I fix something that was so out of my control. We finished filing out the paperwork and left with an open-ended response that I may or may not miscarry on my own over the weekend. If not, I would return early next week to have everything surgically removed.

Jason brought me home and had to head to work. My heart crushed that he would have to face the next several hours alone with his grief. I knew I would take the time to start the healing process alone, with our loving dogs. I cried. Then I called my mother to share the news. For once in my life I can say she truly empathized with me. I could hear her choking up as I shared the details of the day. She had experienced several losses herself and I could tell this was re-opening old wounds. You see, no matter whether you were pregnant for a week or months, the pain of a miscarriage never truly goes away. The child will always be a part of you. You will never go a day without thinking about the ‘what ifs’. I will always wonder who my baby would have become.

I have already begun to find ways to help heal after this loss. Because thats what survivors do, we pick the pieces and move forward no matter what. When I am ready I will share some of those with all of you. I hope that by sharing I can help someone else in their own personal journey. In spite of all this despair I want you all to know that my faith in God has not been shaken, if anything else it has become stronger. I trust God has a plan for us. One that is even better than we could ever imagine. I trust that when this storm passes there will be the brightest rainbow. I look forward to the day when I can share that rainbow with the world…

Until then, as always, sending you all lots of love, luck and baby dust.

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You wait… Our first ultrasound

There’s one thing no one really tells you about dealing with infertility and that is the never ending wait. What’s an even bigger secret is that wait and the worrying and the pain don’t end after you become pregnant. No, that is just the beginning.

On Friday March 9th, after a long 9 day wait we had heard the wonderful word’s “Your Pregnant!”. But of course it’s never really that simple. Our beta was on the lower side so we had to wait for monday to see if it would rise. As I wrote in my last post by the grace of god it had significantly! We were told no more beta’s and thus began the 11 day wait till our next significant milestone… the first ultrasound. Keeping myself busy during those 11 days was a challenge! Firstly, I honestly didn’t know what to think. I knew I was pregnant based on the two beta results, but I really felt like I needed a third to formally confirm. Leading up to my ultrasound I didn’t really experience any of the typical early pregnancy symptoms so it made me a bit worried. I had limited bloating, no real cramping, no nausea, some fatigue and no major new cravings (besides oreos and milk!).

When the big day finally came both Jason and I were anxious, me probably a bit more than him. I had woken up the morning of the ultrasound with one of those ‘bad feelings’ I just couldn’t seem to shake. My RE must have sensed it as she walked in the room because she immediately explained to me what would happen at today’s ultrasound knowing I wouldn’t be able to think clearly afterwards. She told me she would be looking for the following things:

  • Is the pregnancy in the uterus or is it outside, also known as an ectopic pregnancy.
  • Is there a gestational sac and does it contain a yolk.
  • Is there an early fetal pole, and if so what is the crown to rump length.
  • Is there an early heart beat and if so how many beats per minute is it.

As I laid on the table and awaited the image on the screen my heart was racing. I knew what to be looking for as I had researched what typical ultrasounds look like at 6 weeks. Jason on the other hand was flying blind and perhaps that was a gift. The second the image came up the screen my heart sank. I knew immediately something was wrong. While there was a gestational sac is was very small measuring barely 3mm. Based on my known gestation it really should have been somewhere closer to the ranges of 6 to 10mm.

My doctor’s tone immediately changed from one of positivity to a more clinical manner. She ended the ultrasound without giving us a picture and began the discussion of what this all means. Very matter of factly she told us that it was too small to tell if there was anything inside the gestational sac, that it was unlikely this pregnancy would be viable. We were given a 30% or less chance that it was just a ‘slow to grow’ embryo and that things would turn around over the next week. And just like that we were told the next week would be the hardest of our lives. We simply had to wait…wait to see if the baby continued to grow, wait to see if there was a heartbeat, wait to see if it was all over.

Naturally, I cried. I was devastated by the news. I knew in my heart that things did not look good. Jason, tried his best to remain positive. He focused on the 30% of hope. I knew better. I went home and began the mourning process. I cried, I begged, I asked ‘why me’ ‘why us’. And then after a long pity party, I decided to stop all the nonsense and focus on the positives. At least I had gotten pregnant, something I had once thought was impossible. There was still a small chance it was just ‘slow to grow’. Miracles happen every day if you believe. I had even found medical research articles that stated frozen embryo IVF babies tended to be ‘slow growers’ in utero up until about 12 weeks. I even had two friends who now had healthy living children tell me that they too had been given grim results at the first ultrasounds which went on to be healthy and successful pregnancies.

And so for the the next week I filled my mind with positive thoughts. I focused on all the hope I had for this life inside of me. I prayed like I have never prayed before. I surrounded myself with positive affirmations. I went to church and prayed some more. I looked to close friends and relatives for more hope and faith. And then I waited… You see the waiting never really ends. Infertility is a season of waiting. Time seems to stand still as you wait. Every moment feeling like a lifetime of wait. If you are in your own season of waiting. Just know you are not alone. Please reach out, I would be happy to support you through this challenging time. Because in these moments, sometimes all you can do is rest upon a friend.

Until next time, wishing you all lots of love, luck and baby dust!

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