Mother's Day Lament

This year...this year was going to be different.  We were going to have a reason to actually celebrate Mother's Day for ourselves.  It, unfortunately, wasn't to be.

Backing up a little, Ryan and I went through our IVF freeze-all cycle in December.  We retrieved eggs and created babies on December 13th, and ended up with 13 REALLY good embryos out of the 35+ eggs we retrieved.  By day six all of the eggs that fertilized never stopped growing, which, according to the embryologist, was kind of a miracle.  At any rate, just the best ones were frozen.  Five were frozen singly because they were excellent quality embryos, and another 8 were frozen in pairs because while they're still GOOD embryos, they're not of the utmost quality.

We waited until early February to transfer an embryo.  We transferred our BEST quality embryo on February 7th, and had our blood pregnancy test on February 17th.  The test came back negative.  Our RE (reproductive endocrinologist) said there were several factors that could have contributed to the loss of the embryo.  It could have been attributed to my weight--because of it the lining of my uterus just isn't as "sticky," or, most likely, the embryo itself was genetically abnormal.  They aren't able to tell if an embryo is genetically normal or not without sending the embryos across the country and without significant cost, and we opted not to do that with ours.  So...it was on to the next.

Ryan and I decided that we would transfer two embryos the second time around.  On April 3rd, we transferred two more beautiful embryos, and I had my blood pregnancy test on April 14.  I already knew I was pregnant, though, because I'd gotten up for my mid-sleep piddle at 2 a.m. and peed on a stick, and was ecstatic when I saw two blue lines appear.  I tried to wake Ryan up to come look at the test, but he was hard to rouse, so I turned on the bedroom light, much to his dismay, so he could look at it.  He grunted, rolled over, and went back to sleep for an hour before his alarm went off.

Before I went to work that morning, I went to our local OB/GYN's office to get my blood drawn and very impatiently waited for our answer.  I called my mom and my sister and let my closest friends know (which is pretty much everyone I work with).  Over the next week and a half we had the pregnancy hormone in my blood tested several times, and while my level grew significantly each time, it didn't double like most women's levels do.  My RE wanted us to come down for an ultrasound so we could be sure the pregnancy was in my uterus and not in my fallopian tube or somewhere else it didn't belong.

We drove to Pleasant Grove with heavy hearts, not hopefully.  However, when we saw our little one on the screen, just as s/he should be, we were ecstatic.  We got to see the yolk sac and the fetal pole, which was right on track.  And we went home and prayed for our baby to continue to grow, even though our doctor gave "Critter" only a 50/50 chance at life.

This past Thursday, May 8th, we drove to Pleasant Grove again, this time with our hearts more hopeful.  We were praying for a bigger Critter and a strong heartbeat.  The minute our little one appeared on the ultrasound machine screen I knew there wasn't a heartbeat, and I knew that all the hope we'd had was for naught.

And now tomorrow is Mother's Day.  I haven't miscarried naturally, so I get to spend tomorrow with Critter, even though s/he has already spent almost two weeks in the arms of Jesus.  I am scheduled for a D & C on Tuesday sometime so our wonderfully compassionate doctor can take Critter and be sure that I am healthy.  We have decided to have Critter tested for genetic abnormalities, and hopefully we can have a definitive answer as to why s/he stopped growing, and we can better choose how to move forward.

All I can think of right now, is how on Tuesday, my little one isn't going to be my little one any longer.  I know s/he really isn't there anymore, and the only way I can kind of explain how I feel is it's like that last look before they close your loved one's casket and you know you never get to see their earthly body again.  I will never get to see or hold my Critter this side of Heaven, and that is our reality.  I have to wait.  And I kind of feel like we've waited long enough.  I'm mad at God.  Right now, I can not say "it is well with my soul."  I want to know how much more we have to endure before we get to be parents.  We desperately want to love on our babies...

So...tomorrow is Mother's Day.  I am unbelievably grateful for my own mother, who loves me and encourages me with her quiet strength.  I am grateful for my mother-in-law, who spends hours in prayer on our behalf.  I am grateful for all the other moms in my life, who love me like I'm their own, who comfort me when I'm sad, push me to better myself, and give of their hearts and time freely to make my life a little sweeter.

And for a few more days, anyway, I get to be a mom to this precious little life who got to be mine, if only for a little while.  The grief chokes me sometimes, and I can't breathe, and the only thing I can do is cry uncontrollably.  I'm terrified for Tuesday, even though I know it needs to be done.

Please pray for Ryan and I as we go through this season of grieving for our little one.  Please pray for a safe surgery on Tuesday, and the beginning of healing.  Please pray for the rest of our freezer babies, waiting to join our family.  Please pray that we can put one foot in front of the other, and remember how to breathe...