Category Archives: Child Loss

{Infertile Me} Hope Addict

Posted on by
Reply

I am starting to believe that just maybe unicorns, trolls, and mermaids do exist. Lord knows I am pretty much a medical unicorn. A girl with complicated anatomy that prevents her from getting pregnant the natural way. I must have been late when God was handing out the good cervixes. Because I got the broken one that came from the bottom of the barrel. Even though she’s broken, she’s mine and I wouldn’t trade her in. She’s caused me a lot to trouble and now she’s held together with scar tissue and hope.

I’ve faxed and scanned my records to more clinics than I can count. For one reason or another all of them told me no. I drove to Green Bay and was told no. The doctor waited until that morning to look at my records. I was to complicated for him. My BMI was .3 to high for him. So he sent me packing and I was defeated. It stung, the hope that I had instantly left my body and in my heart I was done.

Four hours on the road gives you time to contemplate and to organize a plan. In that moment I wanted to walk away from all of this. Yet something in my gut told me “take one more step, one more leap, we are not done yet. We can go a little bit further.” That little embryo of ours is counting on me, counting on me to bring it into existence. Embryo #3 deserves a chance to become a baby.

You can call me a hope addict. I am addicted to hope with a dash of fear. Do I regret getting fired from CCRM Minneapolis? Nope not one bit. In m my heart I always knew CCRM was not the right place for me. I stayed because I felt held to the wall without options. Did I receive good care form CCRM? Nope, my complicated anatomy and I were treated like an inconvenience. I was a lepar in their books, I didn’t fit the mold, and no matter how much they tried my fat ass wouldn’t fit in their box. CCRM’s lab is all you really need and any qualified doctor can do a frozen embryo transfer.

I think to myself “one day Embryo #3 will read this very blog and will know how hard we fought for him or her.” When you are addictive to hope you do not know how to stop fighting. When life throws you a block you curve to the left and find a solution. Google and I have become BFFs as we search for a clinic capable of taking me and embryo #3. Somewhere out there is a doctor just waiting to put a feather in his or her cap and that doctor will say “yup I will take you on.” I will continue to scan and fax until I find them. Motherhood is something I have always dream of and I am to addicted to give up.

{Infertile Me} Emmett James 03/05/2018

Posted on by
Reply

I have been trying to will the month of September to move slowly. My heart, she is not ready for the calendar to turn to the 23rd. She is not ready for that day to arrive for her womb is empty; Emmett left this world earlier than expected.

Right now Jay and I would most likely be holding Emmett in our arms and cooing over him as he looked up at us. Due dates are not concrete, we knew that I would deliver early via a planned c-section. Jay should be out in the parking lot making sure the car seat fits just right, while our mom’s are at our house making sure bottles are washed and the crib is ready. I should be posting photos of our sweet Emmett to Facebook as friends stop by to hold him. This time should be about our Emmett, a miracle that defied the odds. But it isn’t. The little embryo that could left this world all too soon.

Life she makes us strong before she gives us what we long for. Fate called Emmett home on 03/05/2018 at 11weeks 1 day, his heart it stopped at 10weeks 3 days. His story was done before the first words were written and our hearts are forever broken. Emmett was the child that we prayed for; the child that we so desperately wanted. He is our boy and we are his.

Emmett’s ultrasound photos sit in a book on Jay’s desk. In the beginning they made me sad, but now they are a reminder that he existed. That he was apart of this world and that he will forever be apart of our story. For 11weeks and 1 day he was our entire world and for that I am grateful. Our heats were filled with anticipation and awe because the little embryo that could was our baby and no one can ever take that from us. He was a 9.4 beta that turned into a heartbeat at 6weeks 1day. Even the fertility clinic was surprised by that.

When we found out that Emmett died I asked Jay if we could do a bucket list of things that we would have done had he lived. One of those items was a trip to the North Shore. On a beach just outside of Duluth we said goodbye to our son and threw two small stone turtles into the turbulent waters. The power of the lake washed over us and as tears flowed we said our goodbyes to the baby we never got to hold. I have faith that one day we will find Emmett’s turtles on the shore, the lake she will return him to us.

We chose to have Emmett James cremated and his ashes were spread in BabyLand at LakeWood Cemetery in Minneapolis. When I moved to Colfax Avenue in 2010 I had no idea that the cemetery just down the street would be the final resting place for two of my children. I walked by it and through it quite a bit. It’s a beautiful place and BabyLand has a view of Lake Calhoun a place that is near and dear to my heart. Emmett is not alone here, Baby E’s cremains we’re also laid to rest in BabyLand. I cannot bring myself to visit BabyLand it’s to painful right now but one day I will have the courage to go and put tobacco down for my sons.

The memory of my children is alive and well in our home. We have 3 Jizo statues one for each of my sons. Red for Lucia; Yellow for Baby E; and Purple for Emmett. A sign in our hallway reads “because someone we love is in heaven we have a little bit of heaven in our home.” My Dad is working on a memorial garden at the cabin with three dogwood bushes, a plant that is sacred to the Ojibway. Lucia, Baby E, and Emmett will always matter, our babies they will always be.

Emmett was proof that against all odds miracles do happen. I have no doubt that all three of my son’s will be watching over Embryo #3 for they want him/her to live the life that they never got to see.

{Infertile Me} She was lost; and Now I’m found

Posted on by
1

It’s been a stressful past few weeks. I found myself in a place I never thought I would be in. I’ve called more fertility clinics than I’d care to admit. All of the clinics in MN will not take our embryo. Between you and me; I feel like Dr. B put the word out that I am a terrible patient. Several of the clinics said it’s a liability after they found out who I was. After the last clinic said no I felt defeated. I was ready to throw in the towel and face a childless life head on.

Yet something in me was tugging away. Something in me told me to pick up the pieces and continue the fight. Geneva is a name that I carry. I carry my Great Grandmother’s name as my middle name. Now she was a warrior. Geneva’s children were taken from her during the relocation and assimilation period. That woman, that strong woman never gave up on finding her children. Even when authorities told her that they had died in transport, she never gave up hope. Geneva picked up the pieces of her shattered life and never stopped searching for the missing pieces. Geneva lived his life knowing that pieces of her were scattered and she rode the wind until they were found.

Geneva was reunited with my Grandfather Clifford. Life came full circle. June was found too, along with her other son. This woman, this patient woman was finally whole. I thought to myself “Geneva didn’t get you this far for you to give up. She fought like hell for her children and her battle paid off; she died whole.”

I need to honor this woman’s legacy of determination and grit. Knowing she walked this road before me and that I would not be walking this road alone I turned to Wisconsin. Wisconsin is in my blood and is my second home. My mom, she is from Wisconsin and Geneva is buried outside of Hayward in a sleepy little cemetery. My roots run deep in Wisconsin, so it’s the perfect place to bring our embryo. I called a couple clinics in Wisconsin and they will take Embryo #3! I got ghosted by one doctor in Johnson Creek, which is ok. My gut is leading us to Green Bay. With a little luck and a lot of faith Green Bay will be where Embryo #3 is transferred back to me. Our little embryo, this little fighter of ours will be made in Wisconsin and with a little luck born in Minnesota.

Call me crazy but, I deeply believe that Geneva is leading the way that somehow someway she is going to make this work for us. She’s been in this fight, she brought me this far and now it’s up to me to bring it home. Her blood, her fight runs through me and I know IVF got this.

{Infertile Me} Embryo #3

Posted on by
Reply

My road at CCRM Minneapolis had not been easy and it has come to an end. In November 2017 I had asked the clinic if I could use generic medications and they said no. I pushed and they still said no. They tried scare tactics and would always fucking say “brand medications lead to successful outcomes.” If I ever hear those words again I will run down Nicollet Mall in my underwear. Those words give one false hope. False hope of “if I use brand name meds my transfer will for surely work.” So many women just give up and go along with what the clinic wants because “they have my embryos and it’s their policy.” A policy that they will not show you because it is “internal.”

I asked to see it once and in return I was told “we find it very bold and offensive that you are questioning our doctors expertise.” Yup they said that to me and I have the email to prove it. I was told “if you don’t use brand you cannot transfer your embryos.” I gave in and went ahead with the brand name meds. We paid a crazy amount for them and we were set for a December transfer. Transfer day came, I was excited, I was so full of hope and I could not wait to bring the embryos home. The transfer did not go as planned. Dr. B ignored the referring doctors notes in regards to my complicated anatomy. At one point she thought she was in, I thank God that the embryos got stuck in the tube, otherwise they most likely would have been deposited in my cervix. At that point she should have called it a day, but instead she kept on going because “I’ve never met a uterus I couldn’t get in to.” An hour went by and I was wincing in pain, everyone saw that but her. Finally she decided to give up and I was scheduled for dilation surgery and our embryos were re-frozen.

At that point I lost all trust in the process and in her as a doctor. I tried to move to a different clinic but ran into issues. Due to CCRM’s unique freezing process other clinics will not take the embryos and CCRM Minneapolis is the only clinic in the twin cities that will take insurance. I was stuck without options and they had my embryos. So we bought more brand name drugs and continued on the path to a January transfer. If the transfer worked I could walk away from that clinic and never look back. On the day I graduated from the clinic I cried in the parking lot, I felt so relieved that I’d never have to see Dr. B again. I was pregnant and I’d never have to step foot back in there again.

Two weeks later we found out that our baby’s heart stopped. Our son Emmett made it 10weeks and 3 days. At first I could not entertain transferring Embryo #3. The thought of having to go back to that clinic made me sick to my stomach. I knew it would be more of the same bullshit, brand medications and no exceptions. Essentially their way or the highway. I’d have to face arrogant Dr. B again. Knowing no other clinic would take my embryo or insurance I sucked it up and forged ahead.

I asked the clinic again if I could use generic medications as I had reactions to some of the brands. I was again told no and they would give me something for the infection or rash. I explained again to them that generics are covered at 100% under my plan and it would be less of a financial burden. Again I was told no and “brand medications lead to successful outcomes…..” which to me is bullshit because Emmett died, brand name medications did not impact the outcome.

On the support group page I asked if women were getting generics at CCRM Minneapolis and a lot of women said “yes!” I expanded my pole and found out that all of the other CCRM locations allowed generics. The brand only policy is specific to Minneapolis. This made me angry and I wasn’t making headway with the clinic or corporate office, so I did what any woman would do, I stood up for myself. I reached out to the MN Attorney General’s office for help. On 8/15/18 Dr. B approved my prescriptions and the order was sent to the mail order pharmacy. On 8/16/18 all of the scripts had been canceled by the physician. That morning I got an email and a voice mail advising me that Dr. B wanted to meet in person on Monday instead of our scheduled phone call. On 8/17/18 we met with Dr. B and in less than 10 minutes my care was terminated. Dr. B terminated my care at her clinic because I filed a complaint.

In away I am relieved because now I do not have to deal with her arrogance. She is not God and she does not listen to her patients. Dr. B is the kind of physician that automatically expects trust and respect from her patients. I’m sorry but a doctor has to earn a patients trust and respect. Just because you are a doctor doesn’t mean you will automatically be trusted by your patients, let alone respected. She never earned our trust nor did she earn my respect. A good doctor understands their patients and realizes that at the end of the day each patient is different and that they cannot be shoved into boxes. I am not your typical patient, I come with baggage, scars, and PTSD due to past medical trauma and stuffing me in a box didn’t work for her. To be honest I don’t think Dr. B was prepared to handle a patient like me and she never will be. I learned the hard way that I need to advocate for myself every step of the way and I am not going to blindly follow a doctor because she says so. She is used to women drinking her koolaide and doing as they are told so that they too can have a successful outcome.

I’ve never been a fan of koolaide and I do not regret standing up for myself. I know my complaint will not change her outlook or the way she practices medicine. She is to arrogant to realize that something has to give and that her patients should have access to the low cost generics. Lord knows they pay enough to be there.

For me right now the only thing we can do is move forward. Embryo #3 will be moved to a cryobank and our journey to parenthood is at a standstill. I have to believe that somehow someway something good will come out of this. It may not benefit me, but it will benefit someone else. I do not regret what I did. At the end of the day I did what I had to do and it brings me comfort knowing that I ruffled her fucking feathers. And one thing I do know is this “she will always remember me, the girl who questioned her every step of the way.”

{Road Trip} Traveling with Littles

Posted on by
Reply

Every time I told Sophia “Papa and auntie are going on a trip,” she would ask me “Auntie when are you going to take me? I am more fun than Papa!?” I knew in my heart she felt left out and that she needed to experience an Auntie led road trip. Duluth is one of my favorite places to visit, it is the gateway to the north shore after all. And the north shore has a special spot in my heart. One because I love it and two, because it was my home away from home for four years. I went to college across the bay from Duluth at the University of Wisconsin Superior and I had the time of my life.

Enough about my love of the north shore, let’s get down to business. Friday night proved to be an awful traffic night. A major crash on HWY 61 backed up the road for what seemed like miles. With snacks in hand we powered through and slowly crept along. When seeing the state of the cars involved I said a silent prayer and hoped that at least one person walked away from it. Jack & Sophia just saw the fire trucks and police cars, which was good because I didn’t want to explain that sometimes cars don’t make it home. About an hour into the drive I learned that Sophia has to pee a lot, so she got cut off from liquids and we made it all the way to Hinkley before she needed to go again.

We rolled into Duluth around 10:30PM checked into our hotel and immediately went to bed. Well those under the age of 7 went straight to bed. I showered and went over my plan for Saturday with my mom. It got the Nana stamp of approval. We woke up around 7:30AM and were headed out the door by 8AM. Jack was super excited to start his adventure and Sophia was still a little groggy but forged along side of us. Breakfast, did I mention I love breakfast? We went to Uncle Loui’s Diner and it did not disappoint. Did I mention that I love Diners?

Uncle Loui’s has your traditional diner fair. I ordered the tailgater, my mom the country fried steak, pancakes for Sophia, and strawberry stuffed French toast for Jack. Jack didn’t know what to think of his French toast and Sophia immediately eyed it and whined that she didn’t have it too. We explained that she chose pancakes and that is her breakfast and Jack’s is Jack’s. Jack sat next to me happily munching away asking me “Auntie what’s next, what’s next!?”

Next was Canal Park. We were running ahead of schedule and had sometime to burn before we needed to be at the train station. Jack climbed on everything he could and demanded that we take his picture. We of course obliged. Our arrival couldn’t have been more perfect, I heard the familiar alarm and directed their attention to the lift bridge. The bridge was lifting up to let a large laker through, which if you are not familiar is a large ore boat. Jack was intrigued by the large ship and sat on the canal wall waving until it passed him by. The crew on the ship waved back in his direction and he was beaming from ear to ear.

Sophia didn’t really care much for the ship, she was instead trying to find a way to climb down to a tiny strip of beach. I advised her numerous times “if you were meant to go down there, there would be a path. There is no path so it’s not meant for us to climb down there.” She gave me this look and begrudgingly stopped asking about it. Sophia was amused with the seagulls and curious about the lighthouse. We walked around the park until it was time to head to the train.

Jack happily played at the train table while I waited in line to pick up our tickets. With tickets in hand I showed them to Jack in which he squealed and shouted “TRAIN” he squealed again and let out a choo choo! He was one incredibly excited little. I let Sophia and Jack peek into the gift shop before boarding the train. Each of them picked out a little something and ran over to the boarding line. I chose the short one hour ride and it was just long enough to hold their attention. If you have little ones I recommend the Lake front express ride, which as you guessed it goes along the Lake front past the Cogdon estate and returns to the station. After our ride was over we made our way up the north shore.

I mentioned that I love the north shore right!? Because it literally is God’s country and to me it’s special. Getting to show Sophia and Jack why I loved it so much was part of our adventure. A trip isn’t complete unless candy is involved. We pulled off at the Great Lakes Candy Company in Knife River. It is a cute little shop filled to the brim with delicious hand made confections. I can of course only attest to the white Chocolate confections. Which are delicious by the way. Sophia and Jack both got a bag of candy fruit slices and happily paid for their treat with their own money.

The Candy company had a sweet little sitting area nestled amongst the trees and a bear trail for the kiddos. The bear trail is adorable and includes a candy kitchen play house and bears nestled along the path. Sophia and Jack loved every bit of it and asked if they could come back again. Candy, is always a hit!

Just up the road from the Candy Kitchen is Tom’s Logging Camp. I’ve driven by it for years but never ventured in. The cost of admission is $5.00 for adults and $4.00 for kids 6-12. You do not have to do the museum, you can stroll through the gift shop aka trading post or grab a sandwich at the restaurant across the parking lot. I chose to do the museum. The sweet woman at the counter advised me that we needed quarters to buy feed for the animals and that the baby goat was not stuck. She also advised the kids to look for the red horseshoes and to tell her how many we found to get a treat. With quarters in hand we followed the path exploring the buildings and looking for horseshoes. The kids loved feeding the animals and looking for the horseshoes. We found 7 total and with that they earned a sucker.

With suckers and souvenirs in hand we hit the road again. We stopped for lunch in Two Harbors to avoid the rain and continued our drive to the black beach in silver bay. As I watched the kids play in the sand it hit me “there should be four kids playing on the beach and I should be 7 months pregnant.” Sophia and Jack have no idea that they were cheated out of a lifetime with their cousins. Sophia has no idea that she is the second grandchild and Jack has no idea that he is the third. Moments like this break my heart, yet I know that my babies are together in heaven watching over them. Their cousins they will always be. As I wiped a few tears away I looked up to see Sophia & Jack giggling happily and waving their shovels back at me. Those two were having the best time on the beach.

It was getting late and I wanted to make good on my promise to Sophia, so we packed up and headed to the car. I promised Sophia that I would take her to a waterfall, Gooseberry Falls to be exact. As a child I loved coming to the falls and climbing around on the rocks under my parents not so watchful eye. Jack is to little to navigate the slippery rocks of the falls, he stayed back with Nana and watched from the viewing area. Sophia grabbed my hand and looked up at me beaming “Auntie! This is so cool,” as we skipped over streams of water. She kept telling me “Auntie! There is a way to the edge.” I loving explained “you are a klutz like your mother, the edge is not meant for you.” She groaned and asked if we could go closer to the upper falls. Which I obliged and Jack squealed as we came into view. It was starting to get dark, so Sophia and I made our way back to Nana and Jack.

Once back in Duluth we stopped at Grandma’s for dinner. As we waited for our table I kept Sophia and Jack amused by winning them rubber ducks from the crane game. Soon our buzzer went off and it was time for us to eat. Jack & Sophia munched happily on Mac & Cheese while Nana and I discussed our plan for Sunday. The Prius decided it would be fun to make a weird noise and we promised their Daddy that we’d be back by 5, so we decided to abandon the boat trip. We would head out after breakfast. After dinner we walked around Canal Park for a bit. The bridge is lit up at night and the kids loved being out after dark. Sophia proclaimed “vacation means staying up late,” with a giggle.”

After breakfast I had one more adventure up my sleeve. Jay Cook State Park. The swing bridge to be exact. Sophia happily darted across the bridge while Jack cautiously clung to my side. The movement of the bridge scared him, yet he was brave and made it across. On the way back over he paused to look through the bridge and shouted “Auntie! Water fall,” with a smile.

Soon it was time to get back in the car and head home. Jack slept the entire way back to Red Wing, while Sophia mumbled about being stuck in traffic and asking when she could go on vacation again. I told her “Next summer Sophia” she grinned up at the rear view mirror as she twirled her coin purse in her hands.

Thirty years from now Sophia & Jack will remember this weekend and will look back on the adventures they had. As their Auntie I get to provide experiences for them and in turn make memories that will last them a lifetime. This life is about living outside of the box and creating memories that are yours and yours alone.

{Emmett} Walk Boldly with Answers

Posted on by
Reply

Over the past couple of months I have been checking the boxes in preparation for our upcoming transfer. I saw the hematologist, she was very informative and shared that Lovenox does in deed cross the placenta. That information was both a blessing and a curse. A curse because it could mean that Emmett’s demise was due to Lovenox. We will of course never know for sure why Emmett died, everything is in theory.

On Tuesday I met with a new perinatologist and the first question she asked me was “why were you on 80 units a day?” I honestly didn’t know. I did what the previous doctor told me to do. Although I did question the 80 units, again I was told because of my history 80 was the dose I needed. Turns out AJ doesn’t need 80 units…….she only needs 40. 40 fucking units is all I need. 80 units was to high for someone with my history and my weight. An 80 unit dose is for someone who has a clotting disorder or a BMI of 50.

Two weeks before Emmett’s heart stopped I increased the dose to 80 units. Emmett most likely bled to death, his little body couldn’t handle the Lovenox. Only Emmett knows how he died. I only know that he was genetically perfect and there is no reason for his leaving. In this moment I wish I had fought harder to change the dose. Then again I went along with what the doctor said to do and in the end it didn’t save Emmett nor did it help me.

Am I angry!? Of course I am angry. I am angry that no one would listen to me. That the doctor didn’t take a moment to really look into my history to see what and why my blood clot happened. I am angry that she shoved me into a box and pounded me until I fit the mold. In my gut I knew 80 units was to high. I should have just nodded my head and continued on with 40 instead of 80 units. If I did, maybe Emmett would still be here and I’d be seven months pregnant. I cannot go backwards, I cannot weigh the what if’s, I can only go forward, forward with a broken heart.

My heart she is broken. Yet she is relieved that someone with MD behind their name finally listened to her. We have a plan, a very good plan and with a little luck we will bring a baby home. The new Lovenox dose is 40 units a day with no increase along with a side of prednisone, baby aspirin, and anti-biotics. With a little luck this protocol will be our ticket to a take home baby.

Emmett taught me to continue to advocate for myself and to fight for what my gut knows. Just because a doctor is a doctor doesn’t mean they know everything. I am a walking talking example of “fuck, we messed up her care!” I of all people know what it’s like to be discounted and unheard. I know what it’s like to hear the words “um Im sorry but your pulmonary embolism and stroke didn’t need to happen.” I know what it’s like to be misdiagnosed and have forged a path in the aftermath. And I will not be silent, I will walk boldly with answers and I am not going to dwell on what might have been, I can only carry hope for what could be.

{Infertile Me} With shattered HOPE

Posted on by
Reply

Some days I wish I could go back to September 2017 and tell myself not to cling to hope. To tell myself that this journey is going to suck beyond belief. That you will put all of this work in to end up with empty arms, just like you did before. You my dear girl, your heart will be broken again.

Yet I can’t. Because 2017 me was so full of hope and faith. Her heart though broken still beat with courage and strength. She believed deeply in the process and had her eyes set on the prize. For her sanity she broken it down into pieces, first eggs, then embryos, then transfer, and finally a baby. The first two parts were easy for her to digest. 15 eggs brought her 3 quality embryos. Those embryos meant the world to her and she was certain she would transfer two and she did. Those two ended with one baby. One baby whose heart beat stronger every day until there was silence. Her world just like before crashed around her with the words “there is no heart beat.” At that moment she was done trying. Her heart couldn’t take anymore. She had given three babies back to God.

Little by Little and day by day she grew stronger and her heart started to look to Embryo #3. She knew if she didn’t go for it, she would always wonder “what could have been.” With withered strength and threadbare hope, she decided to move forward.

Forward with shattered hope. In March I was certain that I could not bare going through a transfer again, yet I am stronger than I think. Yesterday I put the ball in motion. The clinic was so glad to hear from me (I’m sure they say that to everyone). Dr. B has formulated a plan, we are not messing around this time. Workup in July, dilation surgery in August, and with a little luck a transfer in September.

September, Emmet was due in September. I just pray it doesn’t end up being on the 23rd, Emmet’s due date. Then again maybe September will be our lucky month and this one I will get to keep.

{Life Lessons} Photo of Happiness

Posted on by
Reply

Out of all the photos we took in Nebraska Jay loved one the most. To me it was unflattering, I was in the process of deleting it from my phone when Jay said “no that is my favorite photo, it’s so genuine.” You can imagine the look I gave him, I immediately pointed out my double chin and how this photo made my look heavy. He told me I was beautiful (he’s a smart man) and that he loved this photo because it shows pure happiness.

I let this photo sit on my phone. From time to time I’d go to it and just look at it. After awhile I stopped focusing on my chubby chin (thank you lymph node and saliva gland removal) and noticed how happy I was in this moment. Sure I was suffering from terrible period cramps (a reminder that I was no longer pregnant), but this photo doesn’t show that, it shows a woman living in the moment, smiling at who knows what. Oh smiling because she was about to burst into a full laugh because Jay was playing photographer.

These are the moments we live for. Moments of pure joy amongst the mundane. These moments chase away the darkness and bring in the light. Our smiles no matter how chubby the chin chases away the darkness and brings light into our hearts. This photo doesn’t show a woman with a broken heart struggling to bring home a child of her own. This photo doesn’t show a woman who has three babies in heaven, it is proof that Love and Joy always prevail. That I have a choice, a choice to grieve or grieve while living the best life I possibly can.

I will never get over the death of my babies, those little ones will always be a part of me. Just as I am a part of them. I live this life for Lucia, Baby E, and Emmet. My boys are the reason behind my strength, my faith, my joy, and my eternal happiness. I chose happy because I know that is what my sons want for me, a lifetime of happiness.

{Infertile Me} Emmet James

Posted on by
Reply

As the blizzard poured down around me I looked out the window and remembered that the doctor said Snow Pea’s results would be in on Friday. Friday went without word, so I logged in to my online chart, “1 new message” it said. I held my breath, my heart raced, I knew what the message was. It was the answer, the answer that Jay and I had been waiting for. It took a while for the words to sink in, “normal (46 chromosomes) XY.”

In the moment I couldn’t remember if XY was a boy or girl, Dr. Google told me XY = boy. Jay and I had a perfectly normal boy. Snow Pea was a boy. There is no how behind the why, and the why has yet to be answered. It’s a blessing and a curse. My baby, our baby was a healthy little boy whose heart just stopped. The placenta was perfect and Jay & I are genetically normal, it doesn’t add up, but in the end we still had to give a healthy baby back to God.

Emmet James was called home before his feet even touched this earth. Emmet James was born sleeping on March 5, 2018. This little boy was loved beyond measure, deeply wanted, and is desperately missed. Emmet was courageous, he was the little beta that could, he proved that low betas can grow into healthy heart beats. I carried his little heart for 11 weeks 1 day. He was ours and we were his. Emmet James, my baby you will always be.

Emmet James is my second and Jay’s first son. A son that we had to give back before our hearts were ready. I have to believe that Emmet found his siblings in heaven. That Lucia was waiting for him with Baby E at his side, welcoming Emmet to the other side of the rainbow. I am a little jealous because Lucia and Baby E got to meet Emmet before we did.

Emmet James was cheated out of a lifetime. He will never get to go finishing with his Papa and he will never get to play tic tac toe with his Nana. Emmet will never get to take a plane to California to visit his Nana and Papa, Jay’s parents they got cheated too. I will never get to teach him how to ride a bike, tie his shoes, or take him on a road trip. Jay will never get to teach Emmet about World of Warcraft, computers, and Back to the Future. Yes, Emmet’s name comes from Back to the Future, Doctor Emmet Brown. Emmet deserved a life time, to feel the grass on his feet, to laugh, and to love beyond measure. His life was cut far to short and we sent him off with more love than one soul could ever handle. Our baby, he will always be. Emmet James you dear, will always be ours.

{Infertile Me} Take a seat, let’s get real

Posted on by
Reply

I know what you are wondering “did snow pea’s results come back?” Umm nope, the wait still continues. Right now the lab is taking 3 to 6 weeks to complete the testing and provide the results. Trust me I ask the doctor at least once a week if he’s heard anything and it’s been a big fat nope. So we wait.

I am really good at waiting and waiting some more. During this wait, I’ve decided to leave no stone unturned and to go into our final transfer with as much knowledge as humanly possible. I will be meeting with a hematologist in early May to discuss my old friend Lovenox. I personally don’t think I need it, but people with medical degrees feel that I do. I am in an odd spot, I don’t fit in a box, and the doctor just shoved me in one with a Lovenox prescription. The dose is a major question and issue. Just like with Lucia, snow pea’s heart stopped a week after I increased the dose. The manufacture says Lovenox is safe for pregnant women and that it doesn’t cross the placenta. But let’s be real, anything a woman consumes can possibly cross that magical thing called a placenta. I also know one shouldn’t leak like a sieve after injecting themselves or have the injection sites randomly bleed through out the day. White shirts and I were no longer on speaking terms, hello darkness my old friend. I don’t want to be shoved in a box, I want a protocol that is tailored to me and my weird ass body. Why? Because I have no clotting factors, my blood clot was a total fluke, I drew the short straw and my life hasn’t been the same.

IVF is much the same as Lovenox protocols. It’s a one size fits all approach and if you don’t fit, they will make you fit. Very few reproductive endocrinologists are willing to reinvent the wheel. They prescribe the same protocols over and over again. I have no complaints here, we got 3 embryos from our protocol and we did get pregnant. It’s just Snow Pea’s heart stopped without notice or known reason. It just stopped and I have yet to carry a baby to term. At the moment we are tossing around first trimester bed rest, reduced Lovenox dose, and an antihistamine protocol to keep my inflammation down. Will it work? Who knows. I’ve got one last shot at a bio child and I am not willing to blow it on junk science and voodoo.

Speaking of fit, if I fit, I sits. Dexter the cat taught me that and right now this mama doesn’t fit in any boxes…. This mama has fallen off of the healthy wagon and needs to chase that fucking thing down and jump back on. A few years ago I had success on weight watchers. I had lost about 20 pounds before I found out I was pregnant with baby E and then shit just went down hill from there. Losing babies is hard and cupcakes and carbs were my friends. We got along a little to well and mama’s waistline expanded a little to much. This morning I put in my card info and signed my ass back up. I am officially on the wagon and I am not getting off until I am pregnant again.

I am starting this journey at 241 pounds (yup I just wrote that number out loud). This is the biggest I have ever been. I’m not happy, I feel sluggish and I wish I could blame my now juicy ass (juicy as in plump, not, get your head out of the gutter) on the IVF meds. But I can’t, because this mama loves cupcakes, cookies, fancy coffee, carbs, yes give me all the carbs and I despise vegetables and anything that screams “I’m HEALTHY!” This has got to change because I want my body back. I am not aiming to be thin, I just want to be me, a healthy me. If I can get to 200 by the time transfer day arrives, awesome, if I’m still pushing 230 to 220 that’s cool too, because at least I know I’m working darn hard to get there.