Babies 13 and 14

Yesterday, we met our final two embryo.  We started this IVF journey six years ago. Six. And so, these babies have existed for us for the last 6 years. It’s really crazy to think about that, how the science of it all works. This time last year Andrew and I were wondering what in the world we were going to do with all of our extra embryo. At that time we still had 8. It was a huge question mark in my future. And felt like it was going to be so much pressure to decide. How could I ever turn my back on any of these little ones?? Yet how could I keep having babies. The last year has been the hardest of my life by far, as we lost 7 in a row. Each child took a little piece of me with them, broke me a little bit more. And here we are, at the point of having no embryo left. Babies 13 and14 are now tuck away inside of me. And we wait. For 12 long days, we wait. And pray. And hope.

Going in to the transfer, I felt surprisingly calm. There was no moment of stress, no anxiety. I’m sure a good dose of Valium helped, but even before that there was peace. A peace I know only comes from above. Even when I have these doubt of God’s goodness towards me, He shows up, holds my hand, and carries me through. It’s a beautiful picture of Him as Father. One I could miss if I wasn’t looking. So, for all those who were praying for me, for us, thank you. 

I also just realized this is National Infertility Awareness Week. I’ve just had a few other things on my mind recently and missed that. A little ironic we end our infertility journey this week, one we really started 8.5 years ago, long before we ever decided on the IVF route or met the team of doctors who would hold our hands through the process. For us, our infertility issues could never be fixed, despite numerous surgeries and medications, despite diet changes and supplements, there was no way for us to conceive on our own. We didn’t have a low chance, we had a no chance. But now, we have 3 healthy, happy, crazy kids who bring so much joy (and frustration) into our home. Though my years of being childless are over, my infertility is not. We are still here in Charlotte doing our transfer, my body is scarred from the daily injections, my emotions are all over the place from the roller coaster of hormones. And we still don’t know if we will get to bring either of these little ones into our home. Infertility is a silent struggle, it permeates so many areas of your life. For years, we lived with this constant longing.  Every time I saw a pregnant woman, every time I saw a diaper commercial, every time I saw kids playing down the street, and every year on Mothers Day, always this ache. I broke the silence 2 years into our walk because I was tired of pretending and tired of being asked when we were going to have kids. And I am so glad I did, because I couldn’t imagine the pain of walking through this alone.