Dr. F ran a different ship. After the consult we didn’t see the doctor, at all. The appointments and retrieval were all scheduled. Under the care of Dr A, he was usually there for my appointments, I went every other day and then every day, and then he told me 48 hours ahead what would be the retrieval day. I think it was a combination of it being my 3rd time around and the limited information that made my 3rd retrieval less stressful, and that was a good thing. I was learning to let go of the fact that I was essentially in a baby making factory and just a widget on the assembly line. I had also started seeing a therapist, Dr L, who specialized in infertility. I did see Dr F right before and right after the retrieval. They retrieved 9 eggs which was our best yet, but only 3 made it to testing which was 1 less than we had the previous times with Dr A.
The call was coming in on my phone. It was Dr F’s coordinator, and I asked if I could conference in my husband (I had previously taken these calls solo but this was one of the things Dr L recommended). She seemed peppy- and honestly I was expecting an email with our results. We had 1 good embryo and it was a girl.
We were so happy, grateful and relieved. We were finally over the hump. From here on out things would be easy. My transfer wouldn’t be for almost 3 more months. During that time I started going to a support group at my church that met once a month. The support group was for women like me who had suffered miscarriages and infertility. Some of their stories were tough to hear because their struggles had been so long. I prayed that I would soon be on the other side of this struggle.
Our transfer was scheduled for right before Christmas. I did everything I should have been doing. I was eating clean, no caffeine or alcohol, gluten free, I did intraplids and acupuncture, I was ready. She was my September baby. And she was being placed in my womb almost exactly 1 year from the day of my DNC. God was finally answering my prayers, and I couldn’t wait to put the struggle behind me and grow this little girl inside me. During the time of the transfer I had a vision. I was coming home and at the door were London and this new baby waiting for me. My heart was full.
Christmas was magical. Our families were together in the mountains and it snowed on Christmas morning just like the movies. I was taking it easy and trying not pick up and carry my daughter around. I was taking daily progesterone shots intramuscular (in the bum). During one shot I accidentally had the needle thrust through 1 1/2 fingers. That was my most emotional morning. I was hormonal and tired and scared [PS- my finger was bruised but fine].
I would find out at New Years if I was pregnant. My blood test was set for Jan 2 but that was also the day I had to head back to work. If for some reason it hadn’t worked, I wanted more time to process before heading to the office. So I took a pregnancy test at home on the 31st. It said, not pregnant. My heart sank. I couldn’t believe it didn’t work. My husband assured me it wasn’t 100% and started reading blogs of women who got a negative result and ended up being pregnant, so I held onto a small piece of hope. But then the blood test confirmed. And then my period started. And every one of these steps just crushed my little spirit. God, why had you forsaken me?
I'll go first 