Previous: Abortion

August 24, 2024

The week of our 8th wedding anniversary. Once again not something we imagined we would be doing surrounding a life event. This time feels different. I think it feels almost like our 2nd IUI. We know what to expect now and the trip into the fertility clinic feels so routine and uneventful. It’s nice to feel comfortable about these things.

Another difference this time is that we have a few friends who knew exactly what day this would be happening, and we got a message from them wishing us well on the morning of that day. This made us both feel very loved and was something that I think we needed after going through a loss last time. Knowing that we have people in our lives who are thinking of us on this day, even when some of them have major life events of their own happening, was very meaningful.

This week, in preparation for the embryo transfer, there was a medication that is an injection that needed to be taken every 3rd day. It also needs to be refrigerated. We had lots of plans for our anniversary week and were making a day trip to the Okanagan. We’ve decided we will not stop living our lives during any of this, so we loaded the syringe into a picnic backpack with an icepack and ended up injecting the meds on the side of the road at a closed tourist centre.

The photo on this post is from this moment. I bet everyone undergoing IVF is going to have a story of doing injections at the designated time in a very random location, and not many of them are going to be this picturesque.

When people generally imagine making a baby, doing injections on the side of the road or sitting in a clinic while your partner is in another room are not the visuals that get imagined. But that’s the reality for many people, and it will be the reality for us.

It probably makes many people uncomfortable if they don’t understand the process or believe in the science of it all. Like anything, the unknown can be scary. For me, I think it’s all starting to feel normal by now.

I don’t have much nerves about the actual process, but rather about the result. My mom had 5 miscarriages and while she has passed on, I did talk to my dad a bit about it and he said that each one was less traumatic but equally heartbreaking.

I found this helpful, just knowing that I can continue to face whatever happens and know that I’ve done it before.

Back in the clinic, as Andrea stands and goes in for the transfer, I suddenly feel a rush of emotions. I pray, begging God to give us a healthy, full pregnancy and child. I ask for someone for us to pour love into for the rest of our lives. I feel a touch of anger that most people don’t have to go through this. My eyes fill with tears and my heart feels like it can’t handle much more emotion at all before I burst. I look out the window, take a deep breath, blink back the tears and push all my feelings back down into my body.

Andrea told me she needed my help this transfer to help her be more optimistic after the miscarriage and move forward. I’ve done that, and I need to keep doing that. I’m naturally optimistic, which makes these feelings that much harder to endure.

Just 10 minutes or so later, she’s back.

The transfer is completed and we begin the torturous 2 week wait all over again.