I want to take a moment to say a big thank you to CarlyMarie and Project Heal for creating this wonderful day.
A day where you can stand proudly and say to those around you "I'm not afraid". Because it is hard enough to feel the pain and anguish that comes with infertility and losing a child, without having to continually hide those emotions.
August 19th, Day of Hope, is about standing tall and proud about how you really feel. It's about sharing and supporting others around who may feel the same way.
It's
about telling the world that these feelings, and these experiences are a
very big part of your every day life. And for the lives of so many
more out there.
So on August 19th, know that I too stand with you, my arms wrapped around you, my hand in your hand, as we tell the world we're not afraid.
All my love and strength,
Sunny xx
For more information please check out CarlyMarie's website, or join her on facebook.
Today was pre-transplant scan day. The day that had been marked in our calendars the moment we froze our embryos. And then circled that date so we wouldn't forget, wouldn't double book ourselves, would plan our day and week around. As we drove to the clinic this morning a very subtle, but very true feeling of nervousness kicked up in my stomach. Hubby noticed straight away and grabbed my hand from my lap, trying to calm me. There was so much riding on this appointment. So many months of patience and heart ache that had led us to this day; the day that would decide when our embryos would come home to me, to start their new life.
We didn't wait long before we were called into his office. With a warm hug and handshake for us both we sat and awaited our fates. He explained how he'd recently been named one of the most successful IVF specialists in our state, and that his rate of pregnancy post frozen transfer was higher than any of his colleagues. He was proving to us that our faith in him was not misplaced. And he was already right, we trust him 100 percent. The rest was up to us!
It wasn't long before my undies were off, and my legs were up in stirrups (we all know that awkward position). As he scooted the ultrasound probe round my lady regions staring intently at the screen, his face looked puzzled. "What day are you again?" he asked. "Day 11" I replied quietly. Hmmm.... And then he looked at me with that face he gives, that face I know all too well means something's not quite right, and explained that I had no signs of follicle growth, and no build up in uterine lining. Which basically means my hormones are still not behaving and my body is not produced oestrogen to the level that would produce an ovulation. Without those hormones, my body wouldn't recognise an embryo and provide a nice warm uterus for it to attach to.
I wiped off the ultrasound jelly, pulled my pants back on, and sat back down at his desk avoiding Hubby's gaze. I knew he was disappointed, and if I looked at him now I would lose the ability to hold it all together. Doc went on to outline a new plan of attack for us. As of the beginning of next cycle I'd go on hormone replacement therapy (HRT). A combination of drugs to build up my uterus and invoke an ovulation. BUT it didn't involve Clomid (thank goodness)! In order to get back to Day 1 without too much messing about, I'll be back of progesterone tablets to force my period to start, which should only take about seven to 10 days. The HRT will then take about 12 to 14 days, at which point we can rescan for possible transfer dates.
The ride home from the doctors was a quiet one, save for my crying and Hubby's ragged breathing as he too tried to hide his tears. 24 more days! It may not seem like a long time to many, but to us it is yet another lifetime to live through. Another slow and painful wait until our fate is yet again called up for deciding.
In 26 days we have booked our very first weekend getaway together in over two and a half years. In 32 days it is our third Wedding Anniversary. In 59 days we will mark the second Anniversary of the loss of our first pregnancy, and the beginning of our battle with infertility. So 24 days may feel like a short time for some, but to us it is torture.
Holy heck it feels like it's been a decade between when we froze our wee Boobals and now! Time has slowed these last eight weeks. Slowed to a painstakingly slow pace. One that has sent me round the bend a number of times, while we've waited out hormone fluctuations, blood tests, orientation to new jobs, changes in schedules, changes in months... I feel so much older now than I did just two months ago. I feel like so much has changed, and yet so many little things will always remain the same.
In the last two months my hormones went from bad to good, to worse again. I developed huge amounts of bloating and chest pain. I've been to see my GP thinking I had heart problems, only to be told it was actually my progesterone levels imbalanced. The when my period was four days late and my chest pain got worse I was asked by my specialist to go home from work and do a pregnancy test as soon as possible. Why would I do that? There's NO WAY I could be pregnant!! As if I'd be pregnant! And yet, I did as I was told.
As I stormed in our front door, pregnancy kit in hand, threw my bag down and headed straight to the bathroom, Hubby knew it was best not to ask questions. I sat, I peed, and then I cried. Yet another humiliating negative test. Worse still, I knew it would be negative and I didn't want to test in the first place. So I cried. And then I called my doctor and told him what I already knew. Definitely NOT pregnant.
Two days later I got my period.
And as I sat at my desk at work, bewildered by the week's events, I couldn't help but think that this is how it may always be... Me, counting the days of the month, not by the calendar, but by the cycle day. I will keep time in 28 to 40 day blocks, not months. Celebrate milestones like two years of "trying", as well as wedding anniversaries and birthdays. Will I always keep such a tight leash on my body? Or one day will I learn to just let it all go and be what it'll be? Will having a baby loosen my grip on scheduling my internal clock, or make it worse as we attempt again and again to provide siblings for our little ones. At what point do I just STOP?
So we are now very literally days, yes DAYS, away from a possible frozen transfer. I won't say what date exactly, because if I do it's likely to change for some reason or another. And then another counting game begins: two weeks wait, then first 12 weeks, and on and on... I feel like I'll be keeping count for the rest of my life!
