Even though I walk through the valley

I have such fond memories of Psalm 23. It was one of the first chapters of the Bible that I memorized and fell in love with as a child. The passage conjures the most beautiful images of green fields and calm streams. I would imagine myself lying in a bed of soft grass, scattered with the most beautiful flowers I'd ever seen. And I never felt alone; I knew that God was there with me. I felt secure and safe in the promise of Psalm 23. I believed it fervently with child-like faith.

And as beautiful and beloved a passage that it is, there is also a dark reality. "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death." It sounds so scary. So desolate. So lonely. And "walk" is almost funny to me by now. It sometimes feels as though I've stopped walking a long time ago and I've set-up camp in the valley. But David didn't use the word stop or stay. No, he said, "walk." It implies that the movement continues. We may move a little more slowly at times, but as we walk through the valley we rest in the promise that we won't be there forever.

In the last two years, I have literally walked through the valley of the shadow of death. I did the unthinkable for a parent and said goodbye to a son. I walked through the valley. I learned that I was infertile. I walked through the valley. We struggled with ways to pay for IVF. I walked through the valley. But perhaps the best part of this entire passage comes with the next part of verse 4. "I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me." I may have to walk through the valley, but I'm not there alone. God is with me in every step. He supports. He comforts. He loves.

Right now, I can feel that I'm trekking up the mountainside. IVF will be tough. It will be hard physically on my body. It will be hard on me emotionally. It will force me to be selfish, setting up injection and monitoring schedules around my bodies delicate cycle. But, oh, the view at the top will be absolutely breath-taking. And when I stand on that mountain, I can look back at that valley and thank God for helping me make it through.

It's the valleys that make the mountain top that much sweeter.

Good-bye 32... hello 33!

This is my last day of being 32. Tomorrow is my 33rd birthday. Wow, 33! Could anything be more benign? If 33 were a food, it would be really bland mashed potatoes or a saltine cracker. Not much flava and a whole lotta nothing.

But on the other hand, 33 has the hopes of being a very good year. 33 could be a very memorable age. 33 will be my age when I have my first IVF cycle. 33 could be the year when I get that BFP. 33 could be the year when I am pregnant for the third time. 33 could be the year where I come face to face with the love of my life, delivering and bringing home a sweet baby and new brother or sister for Mason. 33 could change my life forever.

Is it too late to take back what I first said about 33? 33 could be one of the best years of my life. I bet you can guess my wish when I blow out my birthday candles tomorrow.

I'm having twin boys?

No! I'm not even pregnant so I'm clearly not really having twin boys. But I had a dream on Saturday night that was so vivid that it almost felt real. It's funny because I don't often remember my dreams and I almost never have pregnant dreams. In fact, the only pregnant dream that I've ever had was when I was pregnant with Mason and I dreamt that I gave birth to a cat. I know, totally weird and creepy. But back to my current dream.


I was pregnant with twin boys and I was far enough along where they were big enough that I could really feel movement and I could feel them doing their little rolls and somersaults in my belly. Like I said, it was so vivid that then when I awoke,  I had to remind myself that it was just a dream. I also had that same sense of excitement that I had when I felt Mason move. It felt so real!


I blame my strange dream on the overall excitement with the reality that we're beginning IVF next month. Oh, and don't forget all my friends who are absolutely convinced that I'm having twins (although their money's on girls). I guess only time with tell.

The first day of Spring!

Ah, the first day of Spring is finally here and it's absolutely gorgeous out! The weather is warm. The sun is shining. The day just feels full of hope.

I've been sick for over a week with a really nasty sinus infection, but I feel like I'm finally on the up-swing. The boys are outside playing and I'm looking forward to an afternoon with Mason at a friend's birthday party while Bob enjoys golf with a friend; life is good.

I called the clinic and scheduled our IVF nurse education class for Wednesday, March 31st. Just one step closer to our beautiful baby! Bob will need to come with me that day, so he's taking a half-day and we're making an afternoon of it. First the class, then off to spend some time together and to celebrate my birthday. I'm really looking forward to it.

At our class, the nurse will go over our protocol, tentative timeline, medications and the IVF procedure itself. Ugh! I'm so not looking forward to those injections again, but I know that it will all be worth it in the end. Two of my close friends keep joking that, "When I have twins..." Very funny, girls! But I guess anythings possible and I'd gladly take multiples if that's what God has planned for our family.

I'm off to enjoy this beautiful day!

More then meets the IVF

Ah, if it were only as easy as saying, "yes," we're moving forward with IVF. Which, by the way, we are. 

Bob and I have officially decided to move forward with our last option of becoming pregnant again; IVF. Our doctor has been wonderful at trying to help us get to this point by helping us choose the best IVF option for us personally based upon our fertility issues. Although we were approved for a program called Shared Success, we, along with our RE, think that a single cycle is still our best option. I'm grateful that God has placed us at a clinic with a doctor who cares enough about me as a patient to make this recommendation based on us personally and not just on a bottom line. I'm so very grateful. 

But our decisions don't stop there. With a fresh IVF cycle, there is the possibility of having more embryos than we can use in one cycle. In this case, we will choose to freeze those embryos. Fast forward a year or two after we've had a baby and we still have frozen embryos. Do we choose to go through a Frozen Embryo Transfer (FET) to have more children? What if we have decided that we were done with our family at that point (which could be for a number of unforeseen reasons)? What then would we do with our frozen embryos? 

As I see it, we have four options at that point. The first would be to donate the embryos for adoption to an infertile couple. The second would to freeze indefinitely. The third would be to donate to research. And the forth would be to thaw and discard. And this is where it gets tricky. 

We already know that embryo donation is not an option for us. I was rejected as an egg donor because of family medical history, therefore we would not be eligible to donate our embryos. Freezing indefinitely is also not a very good option. Embryos invariably will begin to deteriorate after they've been frozen for too long and will eventually die. I guess you're making a decision by doing nothing, but you're still paying for years of embryo storage. Both donating to research and discarding embryos brings up a host of issues for Bob and I regarding the sanctity of life because with the fact that Bob and I believe that life begins at conception, we are faced with having to make very tough decisions. No one can make these decision for us and we have to live with the decisions we make. 

See, I told you it wasn't going to be easy. As for now, I'm going to focus on staying healthy for our cycle that will begin next month.

A normal boy

Monday's appointment at UNC was interesting. The morning started with a message from Dr. Segal stating that he had several of my test results and that the Dr. at UNC would be able to go over them with me; he noted that my Antinuclear Antibody (ANA) level did come back positive.

Dr. Goodnight began by going over all the test results, past and present. Other than the positive ANA, everything came back normal. No sign of an autoimmune disorder. Negative for Lupus. No blood-clotting disorders (from what was tested on 2/24). I am healthy. Of course this is great news. I don't want to be sick or have underlying issues. But part of me was hoping that just maybe I would have some answers to why Robert died and to why I'm not able to get pregnant again. Ultimately hoping that we would not have to come to IVF.

I pushed further on the positive ANA and the Dr. believes that it was either a false positive or that I am part of a percentage of the population that simply lives with a higher ANA but never has any other problems. We discussed aspirin therapy. While he believes that aspirin will do nothing for me, he saw no harm in me starting baby aspirin therapy - one, 81 mg. tablet once a day.

Then we moved on to tests that were performed during and after my pregnancy. This had to be the hardest part of the afternoon. We rehashed every detail from my last pregnancy, including the autopsy and testing of my placenta. I learned for the first time that the cells from Robert did not grow, that only the cells from the placenta had grown. And what did they show? A normal boy. It was deeply painful to hear this. My son was a healthy, normal boy and my body failed him.

Essentially the reasoning for going over these tests was actually to reassure us that the chances of another pregnancy having the same result was next to nil. And while I was happy to hear this, I'm still struggling 19 months later as to why I can't get pregnant again. I'm still labeled "unexplained". I hate that label.

And although very well intentioned, the Dr. actually went on the say things like,
"Well, you're still young. You have plenty of time to still have more children."
And, "You can always save up for two years and then do IVF."
And my personal favorite, "Maybe taking a break will help."

Ugh! So not the cliches I want to hear over and over again. I still hold to the fact that there are many doctors who can use some serious sensitivity training and a list of what not to say to a family who's been afflicted with loss and infertility.

We've now come to the reality that IVF is our last option. I still pray that God will help us to become pregnant again naturally, but I also have to realize that the likelihood of this is growing smaller each day. I'm grateful that IVF is even an option for us. I know that it's not cheap. I know that we'll most likely have to dip into what little retirement we have in order to pay for IVF. But I still cling everyday to Jeremiah 29:11 (MSG) - "I'll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out - plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for."