Today

Today should have been a happy day for Matthew and I, instead I am mourning and feeling down.

Today should have been a day spent in the hospital anxiously awaiting the arrival of our second child, instead I am at home.

Today is the day our second child was due to be born that we sadly lost last April at 10 weeks.

Today, I went to church as normal, made lunch for my family as normal, and have a few loads of laundry in the washing machine as normal.

That's the thing about life, it continues to proceed as normal. Except it isn't the "same" normal, it's a "new" normal that needs adjustment. Adjustment to accept that no matter how much I have prayed or how much I hope that everything will just work out, it still hasn't (though we've tried and still continue to want to try). Adjustment to be content with the life that I have been given and the journey that I have been shoved down with no consent on my end. Adjustment to being happy with just Lydia until (hopefully) I am mommy to another. I've been told that "God has a plan." I am very aware. I am more aware of that statement than any other. His plan is NOT what I had planned at all. In fact, my plans have been shredded and tossed out the window because I honestly have no clue what to expect or say about this whole infertility journey anymore. I NEED to adjust to the fact that His plan may not include another baby for Matthew and me. I NEED to adjust to being okay with that.

At times this journey feels so lonely, though I know that I am not alone. I know that many women are sad throughout the year because they too aren't saying hello to their precious new baby. I know that many women still aren't and have never seen a positive line on their pregnancy tests. I also know that many women have been given time to love and cherish their precious babe, but have them taken or given to another. Today I mourn for the life that I didn't get to meet, as well as for all the babies that some of my friends and family haven't yet met or were taken from them. This journey is tough (I wouldn't wish it on anyone), but I am thankful that I am not alone. God continues to bless me with friends that have been a support and encouragement through their own stories and journey. 

I wish I could say that everything will work out for me, but the honest truth is that I can't. What I do know is that someday when I get to heaven, my babies (yes, we tried again twice and lost 3 embryos that didn't attach) will be there for me to hug, hold, and kiss. I will be able to see them forever. That's about the only hope I have these days.

Thy Will Be Done

It happened again. I got too comfortable. I allowed myself to relax, take in life, and live life as if I was the one calling the shots. Truth is I am not. You would think that having gone through an entire three years of infertility before my daughter was born would have made me more prone to relying on God alone, but my human desires and where I was at in life made me all too comfortable.

Matthew and I decided it was time to have another. Lydia was 18 months old, we were all sleeping through the night on a regular basis, my body felt slightly back to normal, it seemed right. So we followed the doctor's protocol and happily found out we were expecting baby number two. It was all too easy and a lot less stress on my body the second time around. My pregnancy was easy at first and smooth sailing, but then the nausea kicked in. I was fairly miserable and, at times, hated life. Although,  since it was my second time around I knew that it would end...eventually. I knew that it would probably last 14-16 weeks, since I was pretty sick while I was pregnant with Lydia and knew what to expect. Except that it didn't.

Around 10 weeks pregnant my nausea and most other symptoms kinda just went away. At first, it didn't really concern me because everyone says,"every pregnancy is different" and I was basically through the first trimester. I was, however, concerned when I noticed some spotting. The doctor's office said it was best that we come in for an ultrasound to check everything out.

"There's no heartbeat", the Dr. said.
"What?" I asked in disbelief.
"There's no heartbeat." the Dr. stated again in the most monotone voice.

This short, brief conversation will be forever implanted in my memories. It was by far the most painful and excruciating event that I have ever faced in my thirty-two years on this earth. It was the first time in my life that I truly experienced death that hit so close to my heart. There were no words and are no words to explain my grief. It sucks.

So not only are Matthew and I journeying the infertility path, but we have also understood the despair and heartache many parents have faced in mourning the loss of their angel baby. It's quite common and I was actually shocked to learn that so many people in my life had experienced a miscarriage. It's not shameful, but not easy to talk about (though it's freeing to talk about it). This path and this loss can easily spiral one into a world of depression, anger, anxiety, and a "woe is me" type attitude. That isn't who I want to be. I have chosen hope instead of despair, joy instead of anger, and peace over my circumstances instead of anxiety. I do struggle and I do fall, but I always try to pick myself up again because I know that God's plans will be done and continue to be better than I can plan. I have learned once again that I have no control over when a baby will come into Matt and I's life. It's a difficult fact of life and lesson to learn, but I do know that once again I am a lot stronger than I was before.

As for now, Matthew and I wait because "Thy Will be Done."

Love's Design Part 2

Infertility sucks. Every part.

1. It sucks waiting. Waiting on periods to start, waiting on doctors to give you the okay to begin treatment, and just waiting waiting waiting. 

2. It sucks going to the doctors to get blood drawn and ultrasounds to check to see how your uterus looks. This happens multiple times in one treatment.

3. It sucks doing shots and wearing patches that pump ridiculous amounts of hormones inside of you that cause you to visit crazy town from time to time (I am being modest about "from time to time"). 

4. It sucks taking off of work and telling your boss that you have to come in late because you have to see the doctor. 

5. It sucks working with insurance companies that don't care about the fact you are a hormonal mess and take their sweet time getting their paper work done. 

6. It sucks feeling like no one really understands what you had to go through to even get to the stage of being allowed to have an embryo put in. This being because the uterus lining, estrogen levels, and progesterone levels all have to be in perfect condition for an embryo or the entire process will be stopped. 

This all coming from a woman who already went through the IVF process once with a successful pregnancy and a beautiful 18 month old daughter.

Yes, I got pregnant on my first try of doing IVF. Yes, I understand that this doesn't happen to everyone. Yes, I know I already have a beautiful daughter. This doesn't take away from the fact that I am still infertile and that I still can't become pregnant on my own with my husband. Natural pregnancy was a death I mourned long ago. 

Though...

As much as infertility sucks. Every part. There are some parts that are enjoyable. The part where Matthew and I have the ability to decide when we want to have another child. I consider it a blessing that we get to have a little bit of the say in planning out our family. We still believe that God has the final say. 

There is also the part that on the day of the embryo transfer we get to actually see our "little embry" live, wiggling around, and hatching. That alone makes it all worth it. Not many parents get to see the cell that started it all. Seeing the wiggly, little embryo hatching shows how powerful and awesome God truly is. No life is started without His say. My hope and peace through this, even the second time, still remains in God's faithful plan and his design for Matthew's and my family.