This has been a rough week. So more than ever, it’s so special for me to share this portion of our story. Having recovered from the surgery and the holidays, we talked about what to do and agreed together that we would try ONE more round of IVF. We met with Dr. C to pick a time for our final attempt. We’d been incredibly fortunate to have insurance cover most of our previous treatments, but this one was fully out of pocket so we knew we’d walk away if the third time wasn’t the charm. We also went on one last long weekend away – a romantic trip over Valentine’s Day to Santa Fe. I had begun the medication earlier so I had to pack a bag full of medication and needles, but other than that it was another wonderful trip – one year after our trip to the Hill Country.
Once we returned, they scheduled the date for the egg retrieval. My hormones, which had always been so consistent the previous rounds, were all over the map. The doctor didn’t know what was going on, and mere days before the retrieval was scheduled, he told me he didn’t think they would be able to do it this round if things didn’t turn around. I remember getting the news and driving to a Beth Moore Bible Study on The Inheritance crying the whole way. While the music was playing, I knelt down at the altar at the front of the church and just cried out to God for Him to help. To intervene. And then Beth Moore was kneeling down with me, praying over me and for me, and I stood up remembering that He had a plan and I would trust Him to unfold it.
The next day, my hormone levels shot back up to where they were supposed to be. They retrieved 15 eggs, over 10 of them fertilized, and on Day 5 we were back in for our final IVF transfer. With our previous IVF attempts, we’d transferred three embryos for the fresh cycle, and four for the frozen cycle. Dr. C was standing in front of us asking us to decide whether to transfer two or three. The news on the embryos was very positive – they were “beautiful” he said. If we transferred three, our chances of getting pregnant increased, but we had a 10% chance of twins and a 1% chance of triplets. Bray and I looked at each other, even though we’d had these discussions before, and said we would rather have three than zero. I remember those words. The procedure was uneventful. I returned home for a week of bed rest. I couldn’t be too careful I decided and my doctor encouraged me taking the time off from work.
We transferred on a Saturday so we could take a pregnancy test a week later, March 14th. I told the family we couldn’t test until Monday so we could sit with the results first. Saturday morning, Bray drove out of town for a funeral but said he’d be back that afternoon. Even he didn’t know I was scheduled for a blood test that morning. I drove myself to the lab only to find they had never received the paperwork from the doctor. Here I was on PINS AND NEEDLES and they couldn’t do a blood test (and they couldn’t reach my doctor on a Saturday). So I drove to Walgreens and bought a box with two pregnancy tests. I rushed home, went to the bathroom, and two minutes later two very clear lines appeared. Doubting that it was real, an hour later I took the second test. Two lines again. I rummaged through my drawer and found an old digital pregnancy test. I took it. It said PREGNANT. About that time, my doctor called to check on me. He apologized for the lab paperwork not being ready and told me I could take a home pregnancy test. I said, “I did. I took three.” (Little did I realize how ironic that would become.) You could hear the disappointment in his voice when he said, “oh, and nothing?” I said, “No, they all are positive.” His demeanor immediately changed, and he proclaimed his happiness. But I said, “How do I know they’re right? How accurate is this?” He was able to tell me they are very accurate and that you don’t have false positives.
Bray arrived home a couple of hours later. I had boxed up a bib and a onesie, I had bought years before – one said, My other car seat is on a tractor, and the other simply said I love my daddy. When he opened the present, he was the happiest I have ever seen him. He too questioned whether or not we could rely on the tests; we’d been disappointed so many times. I informed him of Dr. C’s reassuring words – the test is positive, it means it’s positive. I remember the words running through my head on a loop, like the news ticker on CNN, I am pregnant, I am pregnant, I am pregnant.