You are driving down the highway at 70 miles per hour. Everything is fine until someone, who thinks their life is more important, cuts you off. Every muscle in your body tenses, you clench your jaw, you may even grab what my Husband calls the “oh shit bar” on your ceiling. You prepare for the worst while praying for the best. You brace for impact.
That is the best possible way I can explain the two-week wait. You prepare for the worst and pray for the best. You brace yourself for impact. A negative beta feels much like you just ran your car into a brick wall. However, somehow you survive.
On Friday, Kevin and I drove to our doctor’s office in Frederick to have blood taken. I did not want to deal with this. I still do not know if it was gut feeling or an overreaction but I knew I was not getting a positive beta. I felt like a complete idiot for going to get my blood taken. I knew I needed to because I knew there was a chance I was wrong. I cried while they drew my blood. I could not control it; the hormones change every reaction you want to have. The woman who was taking my blood was the sweetest person. She tried to console me, she told me “we are here for you”. I believe that; I believe that my clinic is there for us. They have all been rooting for us since the beginning. They say “it takes a village to raise a child”. I feel like our child already has its village. Our village is made up of our medical team, our families, our friends, and the community of people cheering for us. We are thankful for every single person in that village.
Later in the day, my nurse called to give me the confirmed news. Our test was negative, for whatever reason our embryo did not make it. A perfect graded embryo did not make it. No one knows the reason it did not make it. This is just a part of life, a painful part, but a part. That embryo knew what it is what going to be from the beginning. We will never know and it breaks my heart. My doctor called us later to see how we were doing and talk about some details. He told us that this is something that just happens sometimes, even with a perfectly grade embryo. He shared that sometimes there is a genetic issue, sometimes it just does not attach, and sometimes there is no good reason. We will never know the exact reason and that is okay. We know we did everything we could have and knowing would not change the pain we feel.
Now, I have stopped all medications that kept my lining intact. So soon I will lose everything that was supposed to be our baby. It will be painful and I cannot wait for it to just be over. Our next steps will be a frozen embryo transfer when my body is ready. This will require more shots but it will not be as stressful on the body as the stimulating shots.
Kevin and I will fight through whatever we have to go through to have our baby. We are sad right now but we will be okay. We are still hopeful that our baby will be in our arms someday soon. We have hope that our next cycle will bring us success. For now, we have full faith in our medical team and God to get us the family that we always wanted.
Thank you to everyone who kept us in your thoughts and prayers. My heart broke to have to share the news with everyone because I knew it would bring sadness. We will never forget this, but we will make it through this. Kevin and I are fighters, we will fight as hard as we have to.
For today, squeeze your babies (young and old) a little tighter. Let them know how much you love them; because every baby is truly a miracle!