Third Time Proves a Charm

When I last posted, Sean and I were about half way along in our third consecutive frozen embryo transfer. I wasn't quite my optimistic self. It was tough for me, going through it during the holidays. But I didn't have much choice. Stopping or taking a break from treatment would have meant giving up. And the mental state that would have put me in, oh let's not even imagine.

Frustration over our previous failed attempts and our growing medical debt had sent us into a state of desperation. We had already spent about $6000 (thanks to my loyal MasterCard and American Express) and had gone through half of our embryos. I had endured nearly 3 months of hormone support in the form of pills and needles. Suddenly, we found ourselves willing to take on the risk that once seemed so frightening. If transferring two embryos would increase our chances of a pregnancy by 10%, it was worth it now. Physically, emotionally, and financially, a no-brainer.

We arrived for the transfer on December 18th and were once again cautiously hopeful, and nervous about what the thaw report would reveal. (Remember our last cycle - one embryo was thawed and survived but was not expanding. All that effort - for such little chance of implantation and a successful pregnancy.) Well, ironically both of the embryos this go-round were of excellent quality. "As good as it gets," said the doc. We left the hospital with our hopes restored.

(Two tiny humans - 5 days past conception. Amazing, isn't it?)

Then came the two-week wait. It sucked, as it always does. My pregnancy test fell on the Sunday of Willa's birthday. I am not being dramatic when I tell you that I was severely ill with cedar fever or the worst sinus infection of my life, and hadn't been able to sleep in 48 hours (because the pillow hurt my face.) And Sean, Willa, and I headed all the way to Austin at 6am to have my blood drawn because it was the closest lab that was open on a Sunday and could give us same-day results. That afternoon, my nurse called, and I could instantly detect the extra pep in her voice. My pregnancy test was positive and I was 4 weeks along. Not only that, but my HCG level was high enough (178) that I didn't have to go back for a 48 hour retest. I had more of the pregnancy hormone than I did with Willa at 4 weeks and that had turned out great. (Obviously.) Over the next week, my sinus misery was gradually replaced with all-day-morning-sickness, heartburn, metallic-mouth, and exhaustion. I definitely felt pregnant (physically, at least) and I welcomed the symptoms as reassurance. I had another test the following week, and while I was at the lab, I used the restroom and was slapped in the face with an emotional setback when I noticed that I was spotting. The IVF nurse tried her best to convince me not to worry until my levels came back from the lab. Apparently, it's common in early pregnancy to have a little bleeding or spotting. I wouldn't get my test results until the next day and no words or statistics were going to make me feel better in the meantime. Thankfully, by the following day, the bleeding had tapered off, and I got the results of my second test. It revealed extreme levels of HCG (8776) and in 24 hours my head went from certain miscarriage, to twin wonder. Ah, the roller coaster.

A third blood test and two weeks later, my ultrasound appointment finally arrived. Sean couldn't understand why I was so nervous. At this point, I think you just become conditioned to bad news. And I didn't know if we would see any hearts beating, let alone two. The doctor came in, congratulated us, and made reference to the fact that here we were...pregnant, and having finally taken the double-embryo plunge, we were faced with a very real possibility of twins. She realized how we had been so careful to avoid that possibility in our previous cycles. Again with the irony.

I have never really been able to see what's what on those ultrasound monitors. But this was clear as day. Two sacks, two beating hearts. TWINS.

Sean and I are pretty overwhelmed with everything right now. A twin pregnancy is high-risk and I can honestly say that all those worries I experienced when I was pregnant with Willa are back, and have been multiplied by 2. I have to admit, I am both fascinated and fearful of the impending growth of my midsection. I will definitely be documenting that so prepare yourselves. And there are also so many decisions to be made, new things to learn, and logistics to figure out - from new doctor, to new car, to kid/crib placement in our less-than-sprawling 2/2, possible cesarean, tandem nursing, power-pumping, double strolling, and whew, I better stop right there.

Now, in case you couldn't tell, Sean and I are truly thrilled. We always wanted a big family. And in just about 7 more months, our brood of one will have grown by 200%.

I'm going to take it easy and limit my first trimester goals to deciding on an obstetrician, resting and taking my prenatal vitamin daily, and eating enough, despite my queasy stomach. Definitely easier said than done. So wish me luck!

The Christmas Tree Farm

After all the Christmas decorating I've done for the shop, I was having a hard time getting motivated to decorate at home. I know, what a terrible attitude, for the mother of a small child! Anyway, Sean put lights up on the house last week, and still, I couldn't get excited about pulling that same old artificial tree out of the attic. But there happens to be the cutest little Christmas Tree Farm on the outskirts of town. They actually provide you with a saw and a cart, and let you do all the rest. Sean had his doubts at first, but I insisted we give it a try (for the sake of building new family tradition) and it turned out to be a fun day for all! So far, none of us seem to be allergic, which was definitely a concern of mine. The new tree was a perfect fit and it even made our old, nostalgic ornaments seem new again. I'll take some photos of the finished tree and post them a little later. For now, enjoy these of Willa running wild though the forest, hiding (not quite behind the tree,) and posing with her daddy.

It's The Simple Things

I woke up this morning, sleep-deprived and surrounded by sickies. (Willa with a vicious cold and Sean with what looks to be the start of a sinus infection.) Glad that neither has gotten ahold of me, I popped out of bed and decided to make the best of this weekend workday. I cleaned up the house, messed around with some sketches for our future dream house (my latest obsession,) ate breakfast and rolled Play-Doh balls with Willa. Then I headed out the door at noon to open the shop on this unexpectedly beautiful, sunny Sunday. On my agenda: shuffle the racks, freshen up the displays, and finish the mess of a rearranging project I started yesterday. And sell, sell, sell, of course. But as I opened the front door, I could hardly believe my ears! The prettiest acoustic music was coming from the restaurant next door. And the warm sunshine and the cool breeze. And the tempting smell of german cuisine and the Christmas decorations lining the street. Oh, I envy the lazy tourists strolling Main today! And then it struck me. How lucky a girl am I? To be my own boss, in the business of fashion, in this perfectly perfect little town. (Not to mention the imperfectly perfect husband and precious tot at home.) Note to self: Next time you are feeling sorry for yourself about all of the hours you work, pressure you're under, and your measly pay - revisit this post, count your blessings, and quit your obnoxious complaining! For today, I've done just that. I've turned off the Christmas tunes on the XM, and am enjoying the sounds of the live music, passing cars, and friendly, slow-paced shoppers. Maybe I'll just sell something while I'm at it.

She's a Tough Cookie, That Willa.

Despite the scowl, Willa was in a great mood last Saturday when she came up to the St. Nikolaus Markt to visit me at the booth and meet St. Nick. She was having the time of her life, running free through the crowds of people, talking up a storm, laughing like I have never seen her do before. But the moment they met, her demeanor turned flat. I wasn't totally surprised by her fear. My mom has a photo of Chris and me with Santa that was taken when I was about Willa's age, and I'm beet red and screaming for my life. But I didn't really expect this particular reaction from her. She didn't resist it. She paid the man behind the camera and walked cautiously toward the brown-bearded stranger. And when I placed her in his lap, she sat perfectly still, eyes fixed somewhere in the space between the photographer and me, and waited for the torture to end. When it did, she bounced right back to her lively old self. I am amazed that this tiny a person can possess such fortitude! Such composure! So much for a good first impression. Oh well, like Sean says, coal is underrated.

I've Missed You, Blog

Since you last heard from me, I've gotten through a busy, yet disappointing month at work and another unsuccessful round of high-tech baby-making. I might have finally cracked under my own pressure, and (fingers-crossed) finally learned to accept that there are certain things I cannot control. (the economy, my fertility, and the occasional public toddler tantrum, etc.) How liberating it is!

For a few months now, Willa has been going to Miss Stacy's house M-W-F. I couldn't be happier with it - Willa is one of four children, aged 6 weeks to 3 years. And for $28 a day, Willa plays, naps, learns, and gets a healthy, homemade lunch. Yes, big city-dwellers, you read it correctly. It's quite a bargain! We went through a period of normal yet almost unbearable separation anxiety (both Willa and I) but we're getting better at the dreaded drop-off. This new daycare routine has dictated my work schedule, and so far it seems like just the right balance. I am cramming more work into less time, with fewer on the payroll. That has been challenging and exhausting, but I'm managing...and that's encouraging. Especially considering that it's my most crucial quarter, we're in a recession, and I'm going through a pretty costly and time-consuming medical process. I now have 3 days each week to devote to Willa, and that makes working through lunch totally worth it. The store looks festive and full of fresh new merchandise and although sales aren't quite up to par, things could certainly be worse. I have taken on more than usual this year with a new marketing scheme, including a customer rewards program, a Junior League show in Abilene, a Christmas sale at the upscale Fort Worth Club, and a local outdoor event last weekend at Marktplatz in freezing temperatures and SNOW! Because desperate times call for desperate measures.

And as I mentioned above, I have been puttering along through this baby-quest and Sean and I just embarked on our third IVF/FET. We transferred a single embryo during Round 2, just as we had carefully planned. But that was a decision I began to regret from the moment the embryologist delivered our thaw report. It had survived, but wasn't expanding very well. We were told that this wasn't necessarily bad news, but it wasn't good either. And there wasn't anything we could do but put it in and hope for the best. Of course it didn't work. So now we're in the middle of Round 3, and our hope for a pregnancy via FET is dwindling right along with our remaining embryos. On the upside, we do still have 3 embryos left. And though we've spent a fortune for them, I am actually enjoying my two (going on three) pairs of fuzzy, non-slip, hospital-issued slippers.

These days when I look at Willa, I am completely amazed that she is here and that just 3 years ago, we were in this same place. But I have to say that as much as I wanted a baby back then, to be a mom, as much as I hurt for it, I didn't truly know what I was missing. That makes it different this time. Having a child doesn't necessarily make it easier to deal with infertility. In some aspects, it may in fact, make it harder. I am finding myself excessively attached to Willa again - the way I was when she was first born - afraid that if I blinked, I might wake up from the dream and she'd be gone. That's one of those scars of infertility I occasionally speak of. And it is a big-time annoyance. So, friends and family: I'm sorry if I seem overprotective or possessive. I can't help it. Imagine how awful I'll be as Willa gets older...Think Cheerleader Murdering Mom??? I must have another child...for Willa's sake!

Kids grow too fast. But I am finding it to be true that every stage is the best stage. Right now, Willa is the cutest, sweetest, funniest! She is so physically and mentally active - bouncing, running, twirling, dancing, pretending, and narrating for us every move that she makes. She talks constantly. She likes to sing her ABC's and Rock-A-Bye-Baby, but she'll try to sing along with anything. She's learned how to swaddle from Miss Stacy and carefully wraps Suzy up in her lovie and sings her to sleep, then tells everyone to "Shhh." The word, "NO" is a new favorite. And all I have to do is give her the look, and she'll say, "I'm sorry." She is so polite with her please's, thank you's, excuse me's and you're welcome's. I sure hope that sticks. I think I almost had her potty trained. But then I got lazy. And it all went down the toilet. I failed again. :-)

Stay tuned, y'all. I'll be posting more photos and stories soon! I mean it this time.

Oktoberfest 2009

Waaaaay back in October, we had a blast at our favorite hometown event, Oktoberfest. Sean and Willa donned their German outfits and we strolled from the house to Market Square for some sausage on a stick and a little oompah. Willa danced her heart out and and made mine melt.

Scratch That...Start Again.

Last week, I took a routine blood test to check my HCG levels and make sure the pregnancy was progressing as it should. Confident that we had successfully crossed the hurdle of implantation, I was not at all prepared for the news the nurse delivered. I had been anxiously awaiting the call and preparing myself for the revelation of a multiple pregnancy. I was equipped to deal with that, but not this. My levels, which are expected to double in those first 48 hours, had only increased 2 points. An embryo had implanted but was not growing. And the pregnancy was failing. I was ordered to stop my meds and told I would miscarry within a few days. I was speechless, heartbroken and scared of what was to come.

I left Sean and Willa behind and headed for a long pre-planned weekend of market in LA. I had tons of appointments and stayed busy with work. And when I wasn't working, I was shopping for winter wear for Willa, which has a way of lifting my spirits. Now I'm back, and I've survived another experience that hasn't killed me, and therefore must have made me a little bit stronger. Certainly.

I had blood work Tuesday, and an ultrasound today, and both confirmed that everything is okay and we can move onto another cycle right away. The beginning of a cycle is the best part - the slate is clean and optimism is high. The process never gets any easier, emotionally. But it does become familiar - and I think I'm back in the mode of living the process. I'm feeling a bit like the infertility veteran - battle-scarred, and a tad bitter, yet adept at a variety of reproductive protocols, well versed in the lingo and closely in tune with my sense of humor. It's not a terrible place to be. For today at least. : )