I spent Tuesday working from home and anxiously awaiting the FedEx truck. I poked my head out the door at the sound of a truck, no truck was to be seen. Waiting was harder than I thought. This just wasn’t a regular package, this package had been carefully packed and contained a little over $10,000.00 in medication and supplies. That package was our ticket to a take home baby.

Somewhere between staring at spreadsheets and listening for trucks I noticed Cullen scratching at the door. Finally FedEx had arrived. The sweet delivery woman threw Cullen a treat and asked “where’s your kitchen honey, this needs to be refrigerated.” I showed her to the kitchen and signed for the packages. Overwhelmed is how I felt when I looked at my medicine filled counter. It all sank in that I was going to go through with IVF and that this was my one and only chance for a baby.

Somewhere between the needles and vials lies a seed of hope, hope that I to will get to be a mom. IVF is not for the faint of heart, it’s a journey for the strongest of the strong. It’s scary as fuck. You can put in all of the time, effort and money and still walk away without a baby. It’s literally a crap shoot. It’s left up to God and Science. I start priming at the end of August and with a lot of faith and a little luck the egg retrieval will be in September. If we get viable embryos they will be frozen and in November we will transfer our little thawed embryo that could back to me.

Hope and faith become your fuel, you my dear become unstoppable. Right now I cannot comprehend this process in its entirety, if I did I’d talk myself out of it. All I can comprehend right now is eggs. Once eggs are extracted I can allow myself to think about embryos. Once our embryos are safely frozen I can start to think about transfer. After transfer I can start to think about pregnancy. I struggle with the pregnancy piece, it scares the shit out of me and makes me anxious.

I’ve been pregnant twice before which ended in losses. My babies rest in the heavenly skies and paint the colors of the sunrise. My heart cannot take another “I’m sorry there isn’t a heart beat” or “I’m sorry there is not fetal pole.” Those words cut through you like a knife, you cannot think, you just freeze and the tears begin to fall. Your worst nightmare becomes your reality and there is no backing away from it. A piece of your heart lies in heaven and you must walk this earth without them.

My heart she is wise and she knows that we can only do this once. I pray that my third time and Jay’s second does not lead to heartache. I desperately long for the day where I can feel the weight of our take home baby in my arms. That day, my turn is coming. We are all in and there is no looking back! Because the rainbow we’ve been chasing is finally in our grasp.