Following Our Hearts

Despite what my silence since the second beta post probably implies, R and I are okay.

It’s just now occurring to me that I never mentioned that we have frozen blastocysts. Ten of them, actually – four that are Grade A, six that are Grade B. Because of that, R is still very optimistic and took the news of the negative betas pretty well.

The thing I was dreading most about the whole cycle was how he would react if we didn't get a positive. Once I was able to believe he really was okay (either that, or he’s become a very good liar as of late), I was fine. Well, at least as fine as one can be under these circumstances. I just didn't think I was up for handling it if he was as devastated as he was by the first miscarriage or as angry and disappointed as he was by the second one. I'm to the point where it feels like I can take just about any pain myself, but please don't make me have to watch him go through any more pain and heartache.

So, the plan is that we’re going to do an FET cycle next month. Since the betas weren’t ever even at a level of 1, Doc said we could go right into a cycle without having to wait a month. I started the BCPs last Thursday, and the Lupron shots begin again on Saturday. The transfer will be sometime in the second half of September.

Right now I’m just trying to focus on being positive and visualizing that I can stay pregnant. I haven’t exactly been a shining beacon of optimism these past few years, and it doesn’t help that my dad called me today to say, “Honey, God spoke to me this morning and told me that what you’re doing – the treatment – won’t work.”

In all fairness to him, he did go on to relay what he believes to be a very positive message: that God will heal us and R and I will become “very fertile” and will have biological children…just not through treatment.

R and I are Christian, and I credit my faith largely to my dad. However, he has some views on faith and God that I don’t necessarily subscribe to in the same way. I absolutely believe that God can and does heal people, so I’m not making fun of his comments. Miracles happen. To R and me, our pregnancies, as brief as they were, were miracles nonetheless.

But I also feel like we are doing what God wants us to by going through IVF at this point in time. That we’re with the right clinic, with the right doctor. I can’t say for certain that I know IVF is what will get us to parenthood, but I have a peace about pursuing this that I didn’t have when we were pursuing adoption.

Deep, deep down, I always felt like I was forcing adoption too soon; it was a back-up plan I was trying to keep under my control in case God didn’t “come through” for us with fertility treatment. I needed to let go of that and step out in faith to do IVF without a safety net that I had created for myself, if that makes any sense, so we let our adoptin certification expire this summer. That’s not to say that I wasn’t sincere in my desire to adopt, because I absolutely was. And despite all of the heartache we’ve endured in that area, if IVF doesn’t work, we will go back to adoption, albeit probably via an agency or international route. But it wasn’t the right time, we weren’t doing things in the order God wanted us to, and underneath it all, as much as I tried to bury it and ignore it, I felt that.

Now I feel like we’re on the right path for us at this moment and time. R and I prayed about starting our family pretty much every single night for seven months before we started actually trying to conceive. We’ve prayed through all of the pain and misery of the past three and a half years. Sometimes they’ve been internal, “how can we bear this, why are You allowing this to happen to us, I’m angry at You, God” kinds of prayers, but we haven’t stopped praying.

If a time comes when IVF is no longer the path we should pursue, I believe we’ll feel God leading us in a different direction. I just hope my dad can accept that we’re choosing to follow our own hearts on this one, and that they’re telling us something different than his is telling him.