and we're off

I started wearing my estrogen patches yesterday, marking the real start of this frozen cycle.  People always talk about pregnancy amnesia...how you forget all the bad stuff so that you want to do it again.  I think there is also infertility amnesia.  I had forgotten how sensitive I was to all of this stuff, and just how quickly I would feel the effects.  This morning I was already seeing stars in the shower, and I have been ravenous all day.  It's all worth it when it works, though.  That's what I tell myself.  That's what I remember each time I look at my son and daughter.

I'm feeling super anxious.  With our fresh IVF, I just always believed it would work.  I just did.  This time, I'm not feeling so positive.  This is our only embryo, and my mind keeps telling me that we can't possibly be lucky enough to have 3 embryos equal 3 babies.  I'm trying to kick those negative feelings to the curb.  While guarding your heart can be useful, negative feelings definitely don't help the process.  So I'm trying to let myself daydream about the possibility of this third child.

save the date

The date has been chosen, the countdown has begun.  We'll be transferring our single frozen embryo on December 6th.  This process still amazes me.  Even though we've been through IVF before, I am bewildered by the fact that I know that on a certain date almost two months away a tiny embryo created almost two years ago will be put inside me.  I am even more bewildered by how much I already love that little one, and how dearly I hope it sticks around.

This is different.  The biggest difference, of course, is that we have our twins.  We have children.  But it's also different because it may be our last go around.  If this works, we will not do IVF again.  If this doesn't work, we have big decisions to make.  And that makes me nervous.  I'm still feeling out where I stand.  My heart is pulled in several directions...further IVF, adoption.  And there is always the possibility of moving forward with the two precious children we have.

But for now I'm focusing on staying positive and praying I never have to make that decision.  I'm working on the physical prep for the cycle--we just had our saline-infused ultrasound, I'm being disciplined about taking my vitamins, and I have wonderful intentions to cut caffeine soon.  I'm also trying to prep mentally and emotionally.  I've started counseling.  When we lost the three babies before our first IVF, I never really stopped to process.  I knew that if I stopped, I might not get started again.  Now I'm trying to work through the sadness, loneliness, anger and grief still simmering.  I want to be in the best place possible for my sweet twins and for this little embryo.

peace

So, the twins officially turned one last week.  One.  It's been a whole year since I nuzzled them inside, since I was the only one who felt their every kick and squirm.  To be honest, in the days leading up to their birthday, I got nervous.  Nervous that they were growing to fast, of course, but also nervous about the franticness I was beginning to feel.  As their birthday loomed, my desire to have another biological child, to be pregnant again, started eating away at me.  I could feel the obsession coming back.  The compulsive behaviors, the thoughts from which I never seemed to get a break.  I was afraid that once this huge milestone passed, these feelings would only get worse.

But then I did something I haven't done since the twins were tiny. I took a drive during nap time.  I loaded my son and daughter in the backseat, and while they slept peacefully, I drove and listened to their lullabies.  I drove through the beautiful sunshine; past cornfields and soybeans, sustenance growing from the ground; past windmills, energy being created before my eyes.  And I found it.  I found peace.  I was finally able to say to myself that if we never have another biological child, that is okay.  If I never feel a little one kick in my womb again, that is okay.

I feel selfish even writing this...I have a son and a daughter, how much more could I want?  But a big family has always been the plan.  And when infertility wreaked havoc on that plan, it was devastating.  Further, I would love to have a more traditional birth experience.  I still grieve the twins' birthday in the sense that I didn't get to hold them.  In fact, I didn't even get to touch them in the delivery room.  No kiss.  No nuzzle.  No physical contact.

So we will do a frozen cycle with our one remaining embryo.  And we will fervently pray that he or she makes his way to us.  But I am thankful to be moving towards a place where the alternative to a positive FET is somewhat less scary.

hope????

Hope.  It's a funny, persistent little thing.  It's something with which that those of us who struggle to build a family often have a love/hate relationship.  Yes, we must maintain hope that some day our prayers will be fulfilled and we will cradle our child in our arms.  Without that hope, the waiting and treatments and pain and losses would be unbearable.  Yet this same hope that powers us forward can make each setback that much more disappointing.  When we hope, we allow ourselves to dream.  And when those dreams don't come true, the shock can be devastating.

I stopped nursing the twins over 9 weeks ago.  For two months I have not pumped, yet my body has failed to "restart."  No pumping, but no period.  Of course my initial reaction was fear--another reproductive issue.  But my second reaction was irrational hope.  Hope that somehow I was your cousin's mailman's sister's best friend who got pregnant on her own immediately after her IVF twins.  I am not pregnant...I never really thought I could be.  But I was still sad staring at that single line on the stick.*

Silly, silly hope.  I sometimes loathe you.  Yet I wouldn't get rid of you even if I could.

*Please know that I am in no way comparing this sadness to those of you who get negative tests after trying for months or doing any treatments, of to the sadness of those who don't have any children yet.

wading in

I've noticed that I'm a bit distracted lately...a bit on edge.  Maybe it's just the move, but maybe it's more.  Perhaps it is the fact that we are starting to dip our toes back into the "trying to have a baby" waters.  The twins will be one in less than a month.  We have one frozen embryo from our IVF cycle, and we are beginning to talk seriously about our FET.  There are more logistics to figure out this time...our embryo is in our home state, while we are not.  Monitoring, transfer, and follow up will be a bit more complicated.  Which is why we are talking about it.  We are making preparations now, hoping for a smooth FET sometime this winter.

Going back to the days of shots and tests and wonder and anxiety is not something I look forward to.  Sure, it will be different this time.  The stakes aren't quite as high.  No matter what, we have our twins...we have two children already.  We are parents.  But still, I long for this child.  Since the day bittiest was frozen, I have considered him my child.  I think about and pray for him often.  I bought him his own baby pumpkin at Halloween.  I cannot wait for the day when we get to meet.  I beg God that he will be strong like his brother and sister, and that he will survive and live and get to join us in this world.  No matter what, though, he is part of our family.  And I want to make every preparation possible to give him the best chance at life.

If any of you lovely ladies have advice on remote FETs, I would love to hear it.

our newest adventure

About two months ago my husband was offered a fabulous job, the kind of job that would be great for his career.  The not-so-fabulous part?  The job was more than 6 hours from our home in a city and state where we literally knew no one.  It was a hard decision, but after much consideration we decided to go for it.

For so many reasons, it felt like the right thing to do.  I am not working right now, so my career wouldn't be affected.  The twins are too young to even realize we are moving.  My husband was excited about the new opportunity.  And, while our old insurance covered 0% of infertility treatments, this new job came with a plan that covers 80%...seriously...80%.  If we want to try to add to our family, we can actually somewhat afford it now.

So, last week we left our comfy little home, the place where we've been for 11 years, and ventured into the unknown.  I know that eventually this place will become home.  That we will find friends and community and favorite places.  But right now I feel lonely.  I miss my house, my routines, and knowing how to get to Target without breaking out the GPS.  I know this will pass, but that doesn't make it less difficult, does it?

packing away the pump

Like many things in life, my relationship with my breast pump has been love/hate.  I love that it brought my milk in when my little preemies were too small to even consider nursing.  I love that it gave me colostrum, then milk, to feed to my angels via tube in the NICU.  I love that, when the babies refused to learn to nurse, it allowed me to continue giving them my milk for many months.  But I hated pumping.

I cannot say I enjoyed anything about the actual act of pumping.  Being tied to a machine multiple times a day was difficult.  I so wanted to use the little down-time I had to nap, shower, or just be selfish.  And it never felt natural.  While I can see how nursing a baby would be a beautiful bonding experience, I never saw that beauty as I stared down at this strange looking machine.

After 9.5 months, I am packing the pump away.  Although I feel a little guilty that I didn't go longer, I'm also incredibly proud of myself.  In the early days, I would set a goal and write it on the whiteboard on our refrigerator.  Many times these goals were only 10 or so days out...I didn't want to set myself up to fail, and I was unsure that I could make it even another week.  I wanted to quit so badly at 2 months, and almost gave in at 4, but I held my secret ultimate goal of 6 months in my heart.  With my husband's support, I made it to that 6 month mark, and then 3 plus more months.

Now, I can say with a bit of confidence that it's the right time to put the pump away.  We have lots of frozen milk, so we're weaning the twins to an all formula diet slowly, and I am sure they will continue to thrive.  So I will return my rented pump tomorrow, with both celebration and hesitation, thankful for the gift it gave my twins.