I’ve looked forward to this day for many, many months. Not just because I get to sit alone on the airplane for 2 uninterrupted hours of me time but because I get to go pick up our little embrybaby and bring it home.
My stomach and chest are full of anxiety and excitement.
I want to much for this little nugget to nestle in and stick that I can feel my fear battle my faith and my desires battle the surrender.
I can’t wait to get parked and checked in and sitting comfortably on the airplane.
One step at a time as the next 20 hours will be an exercise in faith and constant surrender. Preparing me for the upcoming 2-week wait until I go in for my pregnancy test via blood draw.
I find my seat on the Southwest flight bound for Atlanta. Sitting down next to the most precious 10-month-old and her mama. Certainly, not intentionally fore I wanted peace and rest this time around and was greeted with such love for this little peanut as she snuggled up nestle to her mama and slept.
Oh, Lord how much I desire this again from a second little babe.
I read all the magazines that have been piling up on my desk and watch some tv and movie bits as I relax and pray for calm to come over my body.
I still feel the nausea from the progesterone oil and I pray for that to subside.
As small part of me fears that my body will reject the blastocyst out of protection against a foreign substance since it’s already not sitting very well with just these extra hormones.
I can’t afford to thing such negative, unfounded thoughts.
The progesterone is there to help my body receive this little nugget.
I land and take the MARTA to Medical Center. I check in to Hyatt House, the hotel just blocks from the clinic.
I have to give myself the progesterone shot, which is not only a tricky angle to contort myself to but then the administration of such a thick oil is a weird feeling.
Then the night to myself to rest and prepare for tomorrow.
I get to bring Bebe home today!
I have the morning to rest and relax, journal and do some light workouts before I head to the clinic.
My stomach is in knots.
I am excited and so grateful that I get to be here doing this.
I am also nervous and fighting off all the future tripping fears and what ifs that are flowing through my mind.
- What if it doesn’t thaw well, will we still be able to transfer it?
- What if my body rejects the little nugget?
- What if it falls out after I leave the clinic?
- What if it doesn’t implant and my body just flushed it out?
- What if it does implant but then doesn’t grow and then we miscarry?
I don’t want any of these scenarios to come true and have visions of my taking a home pregnancy test and it being positive and me feeling the flood of overwhelming excitement.
But I don’t stay there long because I don’t want to get too hopeful.
I am scared of feeling pain, disappointment, sadness.
I don’t want to feel it.
And this is the risk I am taking by opening myself up to the potential greatest joy in having a baby.
Shady Grove clinic
I’m sitting in the waiting area, patiently breathing in and out.
My hope is if I keep my eyes closed and breath calmly it will slow down my heart beat and bring me to a new place of peace.
It’s 12:27pm and I have been here for 27 minutes. The transfer is scheduled for 12:30 and I am just praying that our little blastocyst thawed out perfectly and they are just getting everything in the lab ready to invite me back.
The HGTV cooking show plays in the background and I wish I could ask to have them change the channel to something more interesting to distract my thinking.
Instead, I write and pause to pray. My bladder is supposed to be full, but I’m too nervous to feel the bloat. I hope I drank enough water!
God- are you here with me? I feel you are silent but that might be because my head chatter is so loud.
Every person that comes from the direction of the IVF Suite causes me to hope that my name will be called.
Not yet, I have to wait.
The practice of patience.
I don’t want to stop writing because what will my mind run off to then?
Deep breath- calm my heart.
God, your will be done.
If you want this blastocyst to implant and become an embryo that will grow into a healthy baby- I give my body to you.
Lord protect us from heartache, from pain.
The more I sit here the more I fear the blastocyst did not thaw well and they are scheming how to tell me the news.
God, I would rather have disappointed today that disappointment in a negative pregnancy test or disappointment in a miscarriage.
Sigh, so very glad I asked. Turns out they are behind in the OR schedule from earlier this morning and will be with me any moment.
The transfer nurse called my name at 12:55pm.
I was in the middle of watching my daughter on the baby room monitor that is linked to my phone. She was putting on a hot pink headband, so proud, and walking over to her floor length mirror and smiling at how pretty it looked on her.
It brought a smile to my face and a tear to my eye. This little miracle that I see on the screen was once frozen in the IVF clinic just like this 2nd blastocyst.
God, you are so good. Thank you for reminding me what a gift and miracle these babies are and the opportunity to go through this incredible process and to be at this point.
I walk back to the IVF Suite and walk through the all too familiar door, down the hallway passed the prepping rooms where I was only months’ prior for the egg retrieval’s, to the back door that is drawing me in with the dim lighting.
Our last name is on the whiteboard, it’s our time.
My nurse introduces me to the embryologist who thawed our blastocyst, he has a piece of paper with a picture of the blastocyst and verifies that the thawing went perfectly and this little one is under the warmer ready to be transferred into its perfect home.
I sign for it and proceed to follow my nurse’s instructions of undressing from the waist down and laying back on the table.
My bladder is nice and full after 32+ ounces of water in the last 90 minutes.
The nurse applies the gel onto the ultrasound nob and places it on my belly.
Dr. B enters the room with her positive energy and sweet, caring voice.
It’s reassuring to see her.
She places the speculum (deep breath) and inserts the catheter into my uterine cavity. It’s very flexible, like a soft noodle and I can barely feel a thing,
She then calls for the blastocyst to be brought in, and inserts the smaller catheter into the larger and I see it appear on the screen.
Before I know it, I see this little force of motion on the screen and this little tiny cloudy white circle, the blastocyst is now inside of me!
It’s so tiny that they take one more look under the microscope at the catheter to make sure the blastocyst didn’t stick to the wall of the tube.
All clear- it is in fact, inside of me.
It will take up to 48 hours to implant and this is when it changes from a blastocyst to an embryo.
From there is will take another week for my hCg levels to be high enough to be detected in a pregnancy test.
So, we will wait 10 days to do a blood test to know if this little one nestled in successfully. I will continue with the estrogen pills 3x a day and progesterone oil shots until then.
A sigh of relieve as this is finally complete and all human exposure to this little one is now over for the time being.
From here, it’s all nature.
Science can’t make this little one implant, that is only God and His plan for this little life.
I rest on the airplane knowing that the little one is safely inside of me. I was assured that I cannot ought, sneeze, etc. this little one out and at this point, I just need to allow by body to remain as calm as possible.
Walking and stretching will be my thing these next 10 days. This I can do.
God, thank you for all that you are and all that you have yet to reveal to me in this journey.
This part of the fertility journey might be over (we pray), I’m just now at the point where most people’s fertility journals begin.
I am so grateful to be here too.