Peeing on sticks like it's my hobby

On Monday, I was walking Miranda and talking to God.  Miranda and I were hustling because I could hear thunder and I knew there was a chance of storms in the area.  I told Him that I already loved this embryo more than I loved myself, and asked him to please give us this pregnancy.  I knew I tested early and got a negative test, but I knew with Him anything was possible and maybe the next day would bring different results.  Right when I finished saying all of this, a cloud parted and the sun came down right on me.

So I peed on a stick on Tuesday morning.  It was negative.

But then...

it turned into a very, very faint positive.

I didn't trust it.  So I decided to take another test that afternoon before I told Tim.  My husband came home not even an hour after I took that test, which was very unlike him.  Turns out, since I didn't text him that morning to tell him the test was negative, he figured out that he was positive. So, because he is probably more anxious than I am about this, he left work and drove home. He noticed that I opened the new box of pregnancy tests (which I denied being new, I told him that had been open).  He dug through the trash after I left the bathroom to see where the test was.  No test in the trash, so he knew I had it.

He stuck around for awhile but I wouldn't say a word about it.  I tested later that afternoon and it was positive again (!), but knowing he was on to me, I didn't say anything again.  Then he came home AGAIN to check on me, telling me he would buy me more tests if I would just take another test right now.  I told him no, I was waiting until tomorrow.  When the hell did my husband become a detective?

I finally caved when we were trying to figure out where to go for dinner.  I said, "I think you should take me out to dinner, because I'm pregnant!"  Oh, he pretended to be surprised.  He threw me up in the air (and I almost hit my head on the ceiling fan) and wouldn't let me go for a long time.  And then, of course, said, "I KNEW IT!"

I peed on these.  Left is from Monday's negative, middle two are the extremely faint ones from Tuesday, and right one is from Wednesday. 

Also, I saw my mom yesterday, who said that one of her tumors is gone.  We are so, so blessed.  She still has a long road ahead of her to get rid of the other tumor, but this is wonderful news.

I am calling this embryo "Baby C."  Conner was "Baby A" and Ben was "Baby B" while I was pregnant (that is how doctors name the babies in multiple gestation, with Baby A closer to the cervix).  Baby C is technically like a triplet to them, since our babies all are from the same "batch" of embryos.

Thank you to everyone who has been praying for her and for our little embryo.  Thank you, God.  Thank you, Conner.  Thank you, Benjamin.

***PLEASE, IF YOU KNOW ME PERSONALLY AND HAVE STUMBLED ACROSS MY BLOG, WE ARE ASKING THAT YOU DO NOT SHARE THIS GREAT NEWS. WE WOULD LOVE TO TELL OUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS IN A VERY SPECIAL WAY ONCE I AM FURTHER ALONG.***

Baseline

Welp, baseline was yesterday.  You should have seen that ultrasound.  They aren't kidding when they say that your uterus stretches after you've had a baby.  I remember seeing my uterus before I was pregnant, and it was this slim, straight line.  I saw it yesterday and almost started scanning the premises for a baby.  Why the hell was it so big?  Oh yeah, because I had twins.  Regardless, everything came back looking good and I started the dreaded Estrace and Ganirelix yesterday.  Those doses of estrogen make me nauseous and actually quite tired (this happened during my fresh cycle last year, too).  Isn't that weird?  It's like all these extra girly hormones are exhausting me.  Ok, I guess that's not weird.  Now that I've put it that way, it makes complete sense.  Ganirelix is notoriously known for having the dullest needles known to IVF and loves to sting it's host even after the needle has been removed. Aw, I think I'm going to hop on the vomit comet just thinking about it.

After canceling two cycles in a row, I thought I would be excited to finally be started meds.  Embryo transfer is in two weeks and I thought this would be something I would be looking forward to.  I'm so naive (read: I'm stupid). Honestly the only thing I feel like right now is DUMB.  What the fuck was I thinking?  I don't want another baby.  I want Conner.  I want Benjamin.  I want to NOT be doing this cycle until the spring of 2015, which was the plan had I been able to bring my babies home.  I feel guilty for even doing this.  I'm a bad mama.  I don't even have high hopes for this cycle, and quite frankly, neither does my RE since we are being advised to only transfer one embryo.  If I get a negative pregnancy test, I'll be relieved, depressed, and drained all at the same time.  If I get a positive test, I'll be scared, anxious, and maybe just a little happy.

Maybe.  But maybe I'll feel even more guilt. Is this really the right thing? Or am I just subjecting another baby to a potentially volatile environment?  If I lose another, it will destroy me.  If I get to bring a baby home, I don't even know if I'll be the kind of mother he or she deserves.  I'm jaded after my loss.

Hey universe, a little slack would be nice.

Your gift bag for attending my pity party.

Surprise! Ready or not....

FET, here we come!

***For those of you unfamiliar with the IVF world, read the following paragraph.  For those of you familiar, skip this paragraph.***

FET stands for Frozen Embryo Transfer.  In August, we did a "fresh" IVF cycle where doctors retrieved 24 of my eggs (you read that right).  They then attempted to fertilize them with my husband's sperm.  Nineteen of them fertilized!  Fifteen of them continued to mature.  Ten of them looked great the day that the doctors were going to do the embryo transfer.  We transferred two of them (Conner and Ben) and froze the other eight.  They are our little snowbabies.  While all of this sounds very unnatural, for us dealing with infertility - this is magic.  And there is nothing, and I mean NOTHING different between a baby conceived through IVF and "naturally."  I do hate that phrase.  My babies are natural, I assure everyone.

Continue on.

I was torn on when to decide trying to have another baby.  Right after our loss, the lunatic in me wanted to get pregnant right away.  RIGHT AWAY.  I think it was more of a physical want than anything else.  My milk had come in.  I missed the kicks of little babies in my belly.  I missed carrying a little one (or little ones). When we met with our doctors, we got different answers as to when we could jump on the IVF train again. My MFM said six months (although she was very open to trying sooner).  My OB said no sooner than three months.  My RE said right now (always a man with a plan).

We went in for a consult with our RE to get a plan in place sometime in March.  He took the time to grieve with us, looking at Conner and Benjamin's pictures.  I could tell he was just shocked at what had happened to us.  He agreed with my other doctors that we should just transfer one embryo.  "God forbid something happened and you lost another two... I wouldn't be able to sleep at night," he explained.  Ok, one it is.  But when?  I explained that my OB (well, both of my OBs) said that I should have at least three cycles (periods) before I tried to conceive again.  But we all know that my ovaries do not ovulate... so I do not have periods the way most people do.  So what were we looking at?  A year from now???  "Oh honey," my RE said.  "We induce those bleeds for you.  Don't worry."  Thank God.

We drew labs and as it turned out, they were perfect to start a cycle for April.  We were ecstatic.  April was three months out, the earliest we could try to get pregnant again.  So in came the box of needles and medications.  I started Provera to hold me until baseline (my labs apparently looked better to hold me on Provera than BCP).

It didn't work.

I bled right through it.  They said that it was breakthrough bleeding, but I knew better. Sure enough, they drew labs and it was my period.  No matter.  I had canceled the cycle on my own anyway.  I wasn't emotionally ready.  I was terrified that I would get a BFN and that would send me over the edge.  I also wanted to meet with more specialists to have a plan in place before I tried to get pregnant again. I needed more time.  I was still a mess and I was already beginning to hate this pseudo baby for not being Conner or Benjamin.

So the cycle was canceled, and Tim and I booked a couple of trips for May.  We decided to go to Bermuda and to go to Galena for Mother's Day and the boys' EDD.  But then, oh change of heart... we signed up for a cycle in May.

We have eight little frozen embryos waiting for us from the fresh cycle with Conner and Ben.  I need to go back for them.  I keep thinking... what if that were Conner and Ben waiting for us?  Oh, God, I couldn't just leave them there.  I need to get them.  I will get them.  Please, little snowbabies... snuggle in.

Yes, I've been going nuts saying I am not ready for this.  But it took awhile for me to realize I never actually would be.  Next month, or one year from now, or ten years from now - I won't be emotionally ready.  But I feel physically up to this.  I can do this. I just hope this cycle gives us a positive pregnancy test and a take home baby.  I want to have a little sibling for Conner and Ben.  Someone who will celebrate their big brothers' birthday with us, who will read to them with us at night, and remember our Ben and Conner long after we are gone.  And I really, really need something positive to focus on.  I am drowning in grief right now.

Also - hoping my baselines go well on May 2nd because I literally head to the airport four hours after labs to go to Bermuda.  If I need to repeat baseline... well then, looks like I'm either skipping the May cycle or not going on vacation!

I'm going to touch the butt.  In May.  Wish me luck :)

I'm not ready I'm not ready I'm not ready...

Don't worry.  There is not going to be a BFP (big fat positive) warning here.  But I've been thinking about what kind of mother I would be if I ever got to bring a baby home.  Would our "rainbow baby" receive the love that Conner and Ben would have?  Because I feel like I have lost the ability to love like that.  That love was and is marked for Benjamin and Conner.

I used to hate the term "rainbow baby."  It made it seem like once a baby came home after the loss of his or her older siblings, then everything was ok again.  More importantly, a rainbow is result of a storm.  I cannot think of any subsequent child as a result of the loss of Conner and Ben.  Like they wouldn't be here unless I lost my boys first.  How twisted is that?  No.  They will not be a result of loss.  They will be here in addition to the loss of our boys.  

But then I read into the true meaning of a "rainbow baby."  A little someone who is here to give us hope, even though we are still hurting over Conner and Ben.  Someone to remember Conner and Ben long after Tim and I are gone.  That poor baby... I can't help but think it deserves a mother who is not in so much anguish as I am.  Will I care to write down every single milestone of this baby?  Will I show of pictures of this baby without crying over the fact that I have so little to show off of Conner and Ben?  Where will this baby sleep?  Certainly not in Conner and Ben's nursery.  I won't have a baby shower, because I can't handle the parade of happy people when all I will be doing is worrying about losing another child.  I won't go to Babies "R" Us or Buy Buy Baby every weekend like I did with Conner and Ben.  I'm not even sure if we will buy basics or essentials until we know for sure we are bringing a baby home.  Any pregnancy from here on out will be full of worry, anxiety, and precaution.  Am I ready for that?

Nope. 

Will I ever be ready for it?

Probably not. 

Maybe the questions I should be asking are: will any of this be worth it?  Will I be able to love another baby after the loss of my sons?  

I guess we'll have to see.