Embryo count

We are 18 days away from our very last embryo transfer. We haven't had much luck so far.

Out of something like 24 eggs from our fresh cycle in 2013, we had 18 fertilize. 10 of those embryos grew well enough to be either transferred or frozen at day 5.

Embryos 1 and 2: Conner and Ben
Embryo 3: Jordan
Embryo 4: Charlie
Embryo 5: transferred December 2018, BFN. This was Jordan's pair.
Embryo 6: transferred November 2019, BFP that ended in a chemical miscarriage
Embryo 7: thawed with embryo 6, did not survive thaw
Embryo 8: transferred January 2020, BFN
Embryo 9: thawed with embryo 8, did not survive thaw
Embryo 10: will transfer March 24th, 2020. This was Charlie's pair and our very last embryo.

I did not think we would go through so many - I thought for sure I would be left with the dilemma of how many kids to have or what to do with the remaining embryos (embryo adoption? discard?). But here we are - I am not sure if we are meant to have another one, but only time will tell.

Quick update

I'm not quite sure what has led me to posting here, seeing as though I have not posted in more than three years. But, I have been thinking about my friends I've made through online support communities and through Blogger - and I talk to many of them still to this day. I've met several of them. I have set up future weddings between my girls and their sons. I talk to a few of them almost daily! You girls mean the world to me. You know who you are. 

A quick update. Jordan is almost five. She is incredibly smart. She started reading over the summer, and she keeps me on my toes. Her memory is amazing, and she is very inquisitive. She talks about her brothers every day. She was diagnosed with T1D a few months ago, and is the bravest girl I know.

Charlie is three. She has the energy of 100 puppies. She gives love to everyone around her. I almost never know where she is, because she cannot sit still. She prefers to fall asleep holding my face in her hands.

We had six embryos left after Charlie was born. We have been through three of them - one failed cycle, one that did not survive the thaw, and one that ended as a chemical miscarriage. We have three left - and I am not sure what the future holds, but hopefully there will be a happy update here soon :)

Charlie is here!

 

I know that months ago, I said goodbye to this blog.  It wasn't until July that I started to regret that decision. Little did I know, I would need writing as an outlet more than ever. But I argued with myself about writing again, knowing that I had already written a lengthy farewell and I had closed that chapter in my life, so to speak. So I left my blog alone, until now.  There is, of course, a big reason why I am updating this blog some 9 months after my last post.


Charlotte is here!

But not without a fight. (Note: you can totally skip all the drama if you want and just read this summary (and skip this summary if you don't want spoilers): incompetent cervix, 3 months of bedrest, multiple close calls to the hospital, delivery at 35 and 5, 12 days in the NICU, home now and doing great!).

At 22 weeks and 4 days, the same gestational age Conner and Ben were when they were born and passed away, I went in for a routine ultrasound. I had been getting them weekly to check on my cervix. Although technically unnecessary since I had no cervical issues with Jordan, my doctors were taking every precaution that they could. And thank God that they did, because my ultrasound tech looked at me with worry that day and asked me if I remembered what my length had been the week before. She had seen me through two previous pregnancies, and I could tell she was trying to break bad news to me. I said about 3.7 cm. She replied with, "it's a little shorter this week..." Of course, I asked her how much shorter.

1.9 cm.

And off to triage I went, crying the whole way there.

After much deliberation between my ob, mfm, my husband and I, we decided to take no action. Two  to four centimeters is considered the standard for a normal cervix, and I was just below that. Not only that, but I have had my cervix shorten before only to have it bounce right back up the week after. At 22 and a half weeks, getting a cervical cerclage was extremely risky - the surgery itself could throw my into labor or worse, break my water bag. Was it worth the risk? Multiple doctors said at this point, no. But they did warn us that it was now or never on the cervical cerclage. I had to make a decision now. Some doctors don't do it past 20 weeks, most won't go near it past 22. We went home to sleep on it, came back the next day to get remeasured, found that my cervix was holding steady, and went back home with the instructions to come back to the hospital the next week to get remeasured.

I walked into the hospital at 23 weeks and 4 days, drinking a Starbucks, expecting good news. I hopped on the table, and I instantly saw the worst news I could get: funneling.

I asked the MFM ultrasound tech, a complete stranger to me, to tell me what I already knew. How much cervix did I have left? She replied with, "That's what I'm trying to figure out...right now, I see no measurable cervix."

So that was the end game. Just shy of viability, I had no cervix and saw deep funneling. I instantly threw my hands to my head and cried. How would I tell Tim? What would I say to Jordan? How was I going to survive another loss?

The ultrasound tech called in an MFM, one I had never met before and one that I hope I never see again. He asked a sobbing me what was going on, as if the ultrasound tech hadn't already filled him in. I looked at him like he was stupid and cruel for making me repeat this story, but I somehow found the words through my crying. He repeated the ultrasound and found that every time the baby kicked, the funneling got worse and my cervix shortened to just about nothing. But when she wasn't moving, my cervix was at about 1.3 cm.I had what they call a "dynamic cervix." Much better news than no cervix at all. But then he told me that at 23 and a half weeks, there were no more preventative measures we could take to save this baby. I called Tim, sobbing, and after taking a deep breath I asked him to come to the hospital. He had planned his work day that day to be working right by the hospital, so thankfully he was there within a matter of minutes. The MFM sent me to triage. I asked if I had to walk there, and he gave me a look. Yes, I did. Um, no, I had no cervix left - I requested a wheelchair.

They basically gave my baby a death sentence. They said they were going to call in a neonatologist and discuss our options with us - basically, did we want to take heroic measures and save a baby that has not reached 24 weeks yet? At that, I requested to use the bathroom and cried my eyes out in private. When I walked back into the triage room, all the doctors were gone. A knock came at my door and another MFM walked in.  I had met Dr. Kay after I had the boys, and again when I was pregnant with Jordan. She sat down, discussed what was happening with my cervix, and then, right when I was spacing out, nonchalantly said, "I won't say no to doing one if you want one."

Wait, want what? I mean, three doctors at this point (all of whom were in her practice) had told us we had no options. Turns out, she meant a rescue cerclage. Tim and I jumped at it, even though we knew the risks were high. It looked like Charlotte would be arriving soon without a cerclage, and even if the cerclage caused a ruptured water bag or threw me into labor, it wouldn't change the outcome of what was already happening on this course. I couldn't believe it. We were given another chance to make the right decision - the decision we should have made the week before. I could have hugged her right then. She scheduled it for the next day, in order to give the baby rescue betamethasone shots for her lungs and to give me a round of antibiotics to fight infection (which, as you all know, I was already at high risk for).

The next day, in the OR, after hours of my surgery being pushed back (apparently I wasn't considered as an emergency - not sure if that was good or bad), a stitch was put into place to help keep my cervix shut. It was low and weak, since it was not placed in a preventative measure (rather, it was an emergent measure) and the MFM was trying not to nick my water bag or bladder. But it was something. Everyone assumed I was knocked out during surgery but I was awake - wide awake. During the surgery, I heard Dr. Kay say "piece of cake."

Afterwards, she told me that she had seen a tear in my cervix at 12 o'clock. We don't know what it is from - from delivering Conner and Ben, or from nearly delivering Jordan before my emergency c-section. We will never know. But it is most likely what was causing my cervical issues with Charlotte. The resident who helped with the surgery told my husband that it was a tough surgery, but Dr. Kay made it look easy. This was after multiple doctors said that it the surgery could not be done with my issues and with how far along we were already. The gratitude we owe to Dr. Kay cannot be expressed into words.

One day after coming home from the hospital, I was readmitted in the middle of the night with contractions. We were 24 weeks and 1 day. They placed me on the horrible mag drip, kept me overnight for observations, and sent me back home terrified. Everyone thought I would be having this baby any minute.

But then a week went by. And another week. And another. And soon we were at 28 weeks, receiving another round of betamethasone shots "just in case." But every week that went by, my cervix gained length and the funneling receded. The weak, low cerclage was actually giving me just enough support that my cervix was acting like it should - holding my baby in.

I won't lie, bed rest was horrible. Many people told me that bed rest sounded great - lie in bed all day, have people waiting on me, not have to work, etc. But here was the reality of it:

• I missed my daughter. Jordan was sent to my MIL's house almost every day, or someone else was watching her in our house. I couldn't run after her, I had to pull out of our mommy and me class, Tim took her to Gymboree instead of me, and even holding her was a challenge. Jordan missed me, too. I can't tell you how it broke my heart every morning when Tim scooped her up from her crib, still half asleep, and her wailing and reaching out to me because she didn't want to leave. I don't think she remembers any of this anymore, but I'll never forget the pain that I felt missing all these memories and moments with her. I can't even continue writing about this, because it hurts too much.
• My marriage was strained. I am a control freak, and having someone else take over my responsibilities was just too much for me. At the same time, Tim could not handle working two jobs, taking care of Jordan, the house, the bills, and me. We were at each other's throats, at least the first few weeks. 
• There is not enough good tv out there to keep you occupied on bed rest. However - GAME OF THRONES IS AMAZING. 
• Ever wonder what would happen to your body if you were eating because you were bored AND you weren't getting up to do anything except pee, occasionally shower, and make some food? Swelling, massive weight gain, and muscle loss. I don't know if my body will ever look the same again. 
• I think I lost about half of my adult vocabulary simply because I never got to see anyone unless they came to the house. 
• I was actually supposed to start a new job the day that I got the news that my cervix was shortening. Obviously, I could not work on bed rest, so money was/is super tight. Not a great thing when you are preparing to bring another baby home. 
• My house, that I cleaned every day, was a disaster. If you know me, you know that my anxiety was through the roof over the messy house. 
• Wondering if my baby was literally going to come out of me every time I took a step was destroying me. I was on edge every second until I reached 34 weeks (when I finally convinced myself I could take a breath and relax). 

Still, every second was worth it. I was able to have more freedom as the weeks went by - got my hair done at 28 weeks, was able to go out for dinner at 34 weeks for our 5th wedding anniversary, got to go to the pumpkin patch, etc. I just made sure that for the majority of the day, I was off my feet. I even started to keep Jordan at home with me, making sure to do simple things like read to her, watch some Mickey Mouse Club House, and of course nap when she napped :)

At exactly 35 weeks, I found myself back in the hospital. I had a routine OB appointment that day. For a few days prior, I had been feeling Braxton Hicks contractions and my doctor thought that he should check my cervix.  He was quiet for just a second too long, and I knew he was going to tell me something big - and he did. I was 2-3 centimeters dilated. But we both agreed that at 35 weeks, we were okay with this. Also, this could be the natural progression of things - it was not uncommon for women to start dilating when they are this far along. However, with the cerclage in, there was talk of the stitches ripping my cervix. So, I had to go to the hospital to get checked out and possibly deliver that day.

When we got to the hospital, they picked up some contractions but not cervical changes. They were able to get the contractions to stop, kept me overnight, and sent me back home the next day. I have to admit that I was a little bummed out, because we (me, my husband, my doctor, etc.) we so sure we were meeting Charlie that day. Especially after my OB told me he had a feeling that my cerclage would not hold. I even called Tim from the doctor's office and asked him if he was ready to have a baby today. I met him at my mother in law's house, where Jordan was, said my goodbye to Jordan, tried not to cry as I thought these were my last moments with just her, and we were on our way. Then it turned out that I was going to be pregnant just a little while longer. Five days, to be exact.

At 35 weeks and 4 days, I went to bed with a couple of sharp pains - nothing at all that felt like contractions. But after a few minutes, they stopped, I went to bed, and thought nothing of it. Ligament pains, I thought. Whatever. But when I woke up the next morning, there they were again. I still powered through it, took Jordan to Gymboree (where I felt absolutely nothing), and then got in my car to take her home. At this point, I noticed the baby had not been moving much, if at all, that day.  I couldn't help but make the call to the doctor, just in case. As I was waiting for him to call me back (he was in surgery), I called Tim, who agreed that I would probably be sent to the hospital, and he met me at his mom's house where we would be dropping Jordan off. It was there that I really started to get contractions - and I knew they were contractions. After calling the after hours nurse again (the office didn't open until 1 pm that day, so technically "after hours"), the doctor called me back and told me that what I was describing were contractions. But since last time had been a false alarm, I went to the hospital thinking this was nothing, again.

Wrong. I was met in triage by the MFM resident who was there for my cerclage surgery. She was so happy to see I was still pregnant, and after checking me she informed me that I was 5 cm dilated and that we could not wait - she had to take the cerclage out now to avoid tearing my cervix. Originally, we were waiting to be in the OR for a c-section to remove the cerclage so I would have anesthesia for it, but even as they were prepping the OR right then and there, they couldn't wait. So out the cerclage came, which wasn't so bad - took about a few seconds to actually get it out, and besides the speculum, I didn't feel a thing. I texted everyone to tell them that today was the baby's birthday, and before I knew it, my OB had met with me and I was wheeled off to the OR.

I had quite the anxiety attack in the OR. In triage, they had missed the IV three times and my arms were a mess. Then, the IV they finally placed a few minutes prior to me getting to the OR stopped working. They placed one high up in my left arm, which hurt like hell. I was worried about the epidural (ouch), it was freezing cold in the OR, my husband wasn't in there yet, and my baby was coming early. I was in tears. The c-section itself was kind of a blur. Charlie was out, crying right away (much to my relief). I asked if she was okay, and as soon as my OB said she looked good, I asked if she had a lot of hair. Ha. She did! As they started to close me up, I felt sharp pains (which the nurse told me was from my uterus being outside of my body. Didn't need to know that). They gave me IV meds to calm me down, but I was still in a panic. They finally brought Charlie over to me. I only got to see her, not hold her, for a few seconds before she was taken to the NICU. I didn't even get a good look at her - I was pinned to the table this time, with my arms bound, and I was in pain (thanks, sucky epidural). Tim kept asking if I could see her and I kept saying no. But they couldn't wait any longer, and off she went - but not without a kiss from me.

They told me that she looked great - was eating on her own, breathing on her own, regulating her temperature on her own. She was also my biggest baby, at 5 pounds, 13 ounces. Her neonatologist said she would probably be discharged from the NICU and rooming in with me the next day. But then they noticed her blood sugar levels were low, and they kept her a few extra days to monitor that. Thank God, because during those few days we realized she was going into bradycardia when she was eating. The first time she had one, I was holding her and burping her. I didn't realize what was happening - she was coughing, so I kept trying to burp her. But then her face turned blue. The nurse ran over, took her and gave her a couple pats on the back and her heart rate went back up. This happened a couple times a day over the course of her 12 day stay in the NICU. She was almost discharged 4 or 5 times, but every time they went to discharge her, she would have another brady. I can't tell you what it is like as a mother to watch your baby's heart rate go from 130 to 70 (or even 50) in a matter of a second and see her face turn blue. Luckily, Charlie almost always self corrected herself without needing stimulation from other people - and it almost always happened when she was eating, so we knew when to be extra careful. The whole suck-breathe-swallow reflex was just too much for her preemie brain at the time. And, as the nurses said - she went at the breast or bottle like it was her last meal. She couldn't slow down, and she would forget to breathe while eating.

I cried buckets of tears every time we thought we could bring her home but then ended up leaving empty handed. By one week, they had tried to discharge her three times. She even had her carseat test and her newborn pictures taken in the NICU, which is something reserved for babies about to go home. Nurses packed her bags to go home. We even filled out the discharge paperwork once, only for a team of neonatologists to put her on a 5-day brady watch instead. We spent about 7 hours a day in the NICU, trying to split our time between her and Jordan. I felt like the worst mother in the world, because I felt like I could not be a mother to them both at the same time. It broke my heart that Jordan had not met Charlie yet. I came home one day and could still smell her baby lotion on me. I cried in our garage, by myself, thinking of my baby all alone in her hospital bed.

We finally got to bring her home on October 23rd, after 12 days in the NICU. She is a laid-back, happy baby who wants to be held all the time and has stolen the hearts of all of us, including her sister. Jordan won't stop saying "baby! baby!" and shoves Charlie's pacifier in Charlie's mouth every chance she gets... and also runs away with it. Charlie has been smothered by sister kisses since day 1 of being home.

And now, what you've really been waiting for - photo dump!

NICU's cutest

Happy baby

Hungry baby

The boys always letting us know they were around

Newborn pics in NICU

Conner giraffe and Benjamin puppy

Two weeks

Daddy's girl

Taylor 110 - in honor of boys' birth date

Tim and his girls

BONUS PICS

Maternity session

Jordan stole the show!

Love Tim's tattoo for the boys here

Halloween! Baby Sully - get it???

Boo and her "Kitty"

She is the perfect BOO! Even runs around yelling BOO! All the time!

Boo and Mike

My favorite picture of her - taken days before we got the news about my cervix. We had spent the day at the zoo and playing outside - one of my best memories before I had to be put on bed rest. 

Charlie on her one month birthday, being loved on!

I also had to fit this in here - if any of you remember, I had a nurse during my hospital stay with Jordan named Cathy. You can read about her here. She was my nurse again with Charlie, and told me she still had my thank you card and would remember me and my story about my boys long after she retired. She told me I needed the picture of the boys up in my room again this time, although for some reason we couldn't find it (I did end up finding it later). We hugged and shed some tears, and I am so grateful to have seen her again. I feel like the boys sent her to me again, when I needed her.

I don't know if I will update the blog again, but I do feel like this was important to post. I hope you all are doing well :)

The end

Not really the end. But the end of me writing in the blog. I spent a long time debating on whether to keep writing, whether it was still necessary for my healing, and what time would be good to stop if there was an end. I no longer feel that I need to write about the boys constantly to help heal my heart. I've found other ways to honor and remember my boys. Doing good in their name, donating to those who are in need on special days of remembrance, and still reading to them every night help me feel close to them. And, just when I need them the most, I know they are here. They answer every prayer. They are never far from me. In addition, many of my blogger friends who have gone on this journey with me have also had their rainbows and I think we can all agree that finding the time to blog is challenging. I think many of my readers have not stopped by this blog in awhile, either, and I don't blame them. It took a dramatically different turn with the birth of my little girl. I love the little community we made and I will always check in on my blogger friends, my TB friends, and my BC friends. But the time has come to say goodbye to this blog. I would rather write a good-bye post then neglect it until I no longer wrote in it. I decided the best time for me would be when I received my pregnancy test results from my embryo transfer in February.

But before I get into all that, there's a lot to catch up on :)

We took Jordan to the Shedd Aquarium for her birthday. She loved every second of it. This girl is obsessed with fish and water. She can even say "hi fish!"  She loved watching penguins waddle in front of her, different fish swim around in the water, and the kids area where she splashed and played and basically threw a mini tantrum when I finally had to take her away from it. I thought for sure I would cry on her first birthday, but I didn't. The day was full of excitement and fun. Of course, Jordan had no clue it was her birthday.

Note to self: this can entertain her for hours. 

Sweet home Chicago

SO MANY FISH!!!

We moved into a wonderful new home the day after her birthday, where my husband promptly took to renovating as much as he could in two weeks. We moved into the house one week before Jordan's birthday party, and you can probably imagine how exhausting it was cleaning, unpacking, and putting the detail into the house to make it look and feel like home before we hosted a party for 50. It was so worth it. My dream was to have her first birthday party at home surrounded by friends and family.

Ever since I found out she was a girl, I stayed up late planning her first birthday party. She was due March 5th, but I secretly hoped she would come February 28th so I could throw her a Winter ONEderland. She was born right smack in the middle of February and I've been designing and going pinterest crazy ever since. Excuse the kitchen, we still plan on updating the cabinets/counters/backsplash in good time.

Hot Chocolate Bar, complete with a hot chocolate machine we have used several times since the party. One of the best purchases I've ever made. 

I love spending outrageous amounts of money on extraordinary cakes. Sugar is my Achilles heel. 

We were surrounded by so much joy and love that day. Everyone was there to celebrate our little miracle, and the day was full of laughter, hugs, and, well, noise. If I can sum up her party in one word, it would be LOUD. Kids running around, laughing, playing, good friends catching up with each other, family surrounding us, and of course, Miranda barking in the backyard. But to hear that noise fill up our house and bounce off the walls was like music to my ears.

Birthday babe. After she snapped her headband off, of course. 

Jordan loved watching everyone in her house so much she didn't nap. She acted like being sung to was no big deal, and once I tried to show her how to blow out her candles, she tried doing it too. In the end, I accidentally blew them out for her while showing her how to do it. Whoopsies. She was confused about her cake, tentatively taking a finger or two to the frosting before finally bringing some to her mouth. Then she gagged on it and I took it away. Oh well. There is always next year :)  - and yes, I already know the theme!

Jordan was diagnosed with a heart murmur at 9 months that sounded innocent, but after her 12 month check up her pediatrician wrote a script for her to get an echocardiogram. I scheduled it for the day after my embryo transfer, so of course those two days were mixed with excitement and anxiety. Jordan did surprisingly well for it. I mean, we did bribe her with (organic) fruit snacks, multiple renditions of "The Wheels on the Bus," and let her watch her favorite video of a Disney Love Medley (which never fails to put her to sleep or calm her down). I cried listening to the song, thinking of how long the echo was taking and thinking that it would destroy me if anything was wrong with her. The tech asked us if we had any other kids. We said we had two year old boys at home. He commented that it must be very busy at our house. We just smiled. The tech finished up and said, "when you guys come back, they have wagons you can put her and all her stuff in so it's easier to travel." He then brought some toys for Jordan and both Conner and Ben to take home. And all I could think was that he said, "when you guys come back." What did he see? Well, it turns out, nothing. The pediatrician's office called with great news - normal, healthy heart - innocent heart murmur. Thank God.

Now, onto my boys - the very reason this blog exists.

There is a song that reminds me of Jesus, as well as the promise that Conner and Benjamin are in heaven. I won't post all the lyrics here, but you can google it if you would like. If you're Catholic, you might have heard this in church. It is called "All That is Hidden." There are a few lines that speak to me the most.

If you would follow me,
follow where life will lead:
Do not look for me among the dead,
For I am hidden in pain, risen in love;
There is no harvest without sowing of grain.

All that is hidden will be made clear.
All that is dark now will be revealed.
What you have heard in the dark
proclaim in the light;
What you hear in whispers
proclaim from the housetops.

Do not look for me among the dead. I certainly do not think of my boys as dead. They are gone from this earth, but they live on. We, along with our family and friends, strive to do good in their names and remember them at special holidays and occasions. Their names are on our mantle, we write their names in the sand whenever we go on vacation, their footprints and pictures grace our walls, and we will continue to celebrate their birthdays every year. I still cry when I think about them, but not often. I try to remember that their lives should be celebrated and that their legacy is not grief. Those boys can still serve a purpose on this earth. I hope by me writing here on this blog, some of you reading have found comfort in your own losses. I know that my loss could have destroyed me, but it didn't. I know that good can come from heartache. Our boys could not be saved, but I pray that other babies can be. Our team for the March for Babies grows smaller every year, but we will keep walking regardless. Over the past years we have raised almost $20,000 for premature babies. Maybe in the coming years we won't bring too much in, but every little bit helps. 

Every once in awhile, I will ask my boys for a favor. Sometimes big, sometimes small. Sometimes for patience when I feel like screaming, sometimes for someone else to have patience with me, or for bigger things like asking for their sister's heart to be healthy. They have never failed me. I know they are our guardian angels. I know they are here, watching my type. I know that they lead us to all good things. I can only hope that each day, I can make them proud. I know that we will be reunited with them again someday.  Until then, I hold them in my hearts, write their names on our Christmas cards every year, say good morning to them every day, and pray for them every night. I love them wholly and tremendously.

To everyone who has followed this blog - from the beginning or intermittently, thank you for sharing in Conner and Ben's story. Thank you for praying for me and my family, for supporting us, for praying for my little girl when all sorts of things kept going wrong. Thank you for thinking of my boys, for believing that they were and are worthy of being loved, for participating in their Random Acts of Kindness, for donating to our March for Babies team year after year, for crying with me and crying for me. Thank you for sharing in my joy when Jordan was born, for keeping tabs on her monthly updates, and for just being there. I have made so many connections with so many of you - whether it be through our blogs, or through email, or the few of you that I have met in person and have become some of my very best friends. You will never truly understand how much you all mean to me. You were and are an integral part of my healing process, and it is not without hesitation that I stop writing in this blog. It really is like saying goodbye to a friend.

Forget-me-nots

I've also finished up my study on perinatal loss and religious coping. The results are actually quite interesting. If you would like access to the completed study and the results, please feel free to contact me at ctbmsullivan@gmail.com. Or, you can leave a comment here with your email address and I will contact you. 

Of course, before I write my last sentences here, baby number four (baby D??) is due November 11th. I am so much more relaxed about this pregnancy after delivering Jordan, and I know that this baby's older brothers are the best guardian angels ever. Also, I already have some pretty strong pregnancy symptoms (read: earlier and worse than with my previous pregnancies) and it makes me feel like this baby is here to stay. Oh, and beta 10dp5dt was 276 so... let's see if this embryo split...

6dp5dt, after getting the faintest lines ever on 5dp5dt. Jordan has no clue what is going on. 

We have 6 embryos left. Four are frozen in pairs and have been waiting for us since 2013. Two are frozen alone - one was Jordan's pair, refrozen in 2014. One was this new baby's pair, refrozen just weeks ago. I made a joke that IVF has worked for us 3/3 times, and that if we were going to go back for the other 6, we needed to build an addition on our house. I am so attached to those little snow babies, I cannot imagine not going back for all of them. I am especially attached to Jordan's pair, who I almost transferred with her, and felt like I was abandoning. I am sure when this new baby is born, I'll feel the same about his/her pair that was refrozen. Those two embryos were so close at being transferred, and I almost feel like I neglected them by having them refrozen. I feel like they sacrificed for their siblings to be born. That may sound crazy, but to those of you who have done IVF, maybe you understand. The ride is crazy, emotional, and often times lonely. My ride with infertility is not over yet, not until I have given all of those embryos a chance.

To those of you struggling with starting your family, never give up. Mine did not come easy or without tremendous loss. But here we are. It was worth it. I have three babies (and one on the way) and even with two of them in heaven, I can tell you that my heart is full of joy.

If any of you have instagram, you can follow me @krystalg930. Or email me. I love connecting with everyone!

I'll leave you with Jordan's favorite video :)