At one point I could not wait for this day to come. I was so excited, I put it in my phone, added it to the pregnancy apps, I hoped and I dreamed. Today is the day our first embryo, had it made it, would have been due. I was naive, even though I should not have been because I am well aware of what can go very wrong, but I was so full of hope. I was hopeful that we would get lucky and out first transfer would survive and in mid-June we would have our baby. I was hoping for the due date to be just a few days earlier in June 24th because I thought it would be amazing for our baby to enter this world on Kevin’s Alive Day. If you don’t already know, an Alive Day is what we call the day that Kevin was injured in Afghanistan. It is a day many people refer to when they nearly escaped death, a day of second chances.
When I had my embryo Transfer on October 3rd, we were so excited. For the first time in my life I was considered “pregnant”. When you leave you are told you treat yourself just like you know you’re pregnant and to take it easy. You leave with a picture of the most beautiful embryo. We went home and all I could do was smile because I knew what was going on inside of me and hopefully that our baby was taking shape.
After the transfer you have two weeks of what I like to call hell. After the two weeks are over, you go to the office for a pregnancy test. I cheated and tested beforehand. Day after day was I getting negatives. I remember feeling like my world was upside down. The one thing I wanted more than anything I felt like was slowly getting further out of my grasp. It was painful.
Then on October 16th… the test. I did not have a lot of hope left in me by that day. I cried as the nurse took my blood. It was so embarrassing but my heart and soul knew that I had lost something. We went home and we waited for the call. My poor nurse had to call me with the devastating news. I was numb and in more pain than I thought a body to could experience emotionally. Our “embaby” as we called it, did not make it. That due date that I was dreaming of would come with empty arms. The pregnancy apps had to be deleted, whiteout had to be taken to my calendar, and I had to go on with life like I felt fine.
I will always wonder, if that embaby would have made it would it have been a boy or girl. Would they be a lot like what Claire will be like or completely different? The wondering hurts but sometimes you cannot stop your mind from doing it.
I know others have been through significantly more catastrophic pain than I have experienced. I don’t mean to share my pain to put a shadow over theirs. I am a firm believer that just because one person experiences more pain from another, does not make the others less painful. I only share it because it is my pain. It is my pain that has made this pregnancy with Claire terrifying. I struggled the whole way through it with anxiety and sadness as I fear that for some reason she would be taken from me. Thoughts run through my head because of my experiences and because of the deep wounds infertility has left on my heart. Although it is terrible advice for anyone, trying again right after a loss is even harder with infertility. It involves shots, procedures, doctors, and extensive amounts of money that we may not always have and really no sex. I remember after our first one failing thinking how in the world am I going to do this again, especially the two week wait.
Thankfully we did try again. I am incredibly thankful that we got another chance and that our Claire will be with us shortly. A part of me will just always ache and wonder for the first one but I know how blessed we are to have Claire. I promise her the happiest and healthiest life I can provide her and that she will always know love.