Back in the saddle…er, stirrups…again.

Our path back to our 2nd transfer was a bit of a wild one. I can’t even begin to remember all of it, not with all of the life that’s happened between then and now, but I thought it would be worth a bit of time to write about how I ended up back in the stirrups again. 😉

Our first transfer was the end of February; received our negative beta in early March. We took a few weeks to grieve & process, then began seriously discussing going back for our other two little ones. Sure, we were nervous…a little gun-shy…but our general thought was that a) they were already ours, b) we were ready to meet them & hopefully get pregnant & c) it was better to get on with it so that we would know one way or the other and could have the summer to make the necessary plans one way or the other.

The two main issues were coming up with the money for the second transfer and Chris’ job. He had been looking for a job for right at a year, knowing that his government contract job would be going away at some point in the near future. It turned out to be much sooner than we had planned, and at one point we had about 10 days notice of his job ending. He had a few interviews right around this time, but it was stressful, to say the least. Of course, in typical awesome timing, we were waiting to hear if he would have an extension on his job literally right as we were reaching our point of no-return with moving forward with the transfer. There were a lot of feelings…a lot of confusion & wanting to do what was right…but God answered some very specific questions with some very clear answers, so we forged ahead. Within days we had begun the shots and Chris had accepted a great new job. Oh yes, and we found out that the transfer would cost less than half of what it had the first time. {Don’t even ask me how…my only answer is God!}

My medicine regimen was much simpler the second time around…no lupron {the little stomach shots}, straight to estrogen shots every 3rd day, then progesterone once my lining was up to where it should be. We didn’t have any delays like last time, although my lining was barely at the 7 we needed it to be. {The architecture, however, looked beautiful…or so they told me. Weird, I know.} The shots weren’t terrible, I didn’t get as many knots as last time around.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, we weren’t as open with telling others about this transfer. We didn’t lie if people asked, but didn’t offer it up so freely either. I put in to take a couple of days off of work, and before we knew it the big day had arrived.

Since we knew what to expect, the transfer itself was a pretty calm event. I didn’t drink as much water as last time, so there was no need for a bedpan. 😉 We didn’t have to wait as long before the procedure; we knew the drill. We were relieved to learn that both little ones had survived the thaw, although they did caution us that one of them had gotten a bit frosty. At the time of transfer the doctor assured us that both had grown well in the short amount of time since they were thawed, so we left with hearts full of hope for both little ones.

We enjoyed a quiet evening at home, and I spent the next day laying around. I definitely struggled with feeling more anxious and emotional {there was an unexpected cry fest because I wanted to take Huxley for a ride in the car but couldn’t get him in myself…ridiculous, I know} and we both struggled with opening our hearts fully to the process. Chris started his new job, we began to consider the logistics of moving. Life stayed busy, as it usually is for us…with the little ones never far from our minds or prayers.

As for the rest…well I’ve written about that. Like the others, we lost them somewhere in those nine days of waiting. And then it was baby shower time and Mother’s day and time to take down my classroom & prepare for the end of school. Life goes on I guess.

That’s the saddest part I think. Just like that, our life goes on…but without them, and without a hope of holding them here. But for grace it would all seem quite hopeless.

But for grace. It can be found in the most unexpected of places. When your feet are awkwardly propped in those awful stirrups. When the pregnancy test only shows one line. When your heart is broken. Sweet, precious grace is there for me in all.

Blessed am I.

 

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