Crazy little thing called life

Hello
~Cameron Jarrett

This is going to be a long post. I have been jotting down my thoughts, but I have not had the energy to sit and put them together. The past week or so has been one of super high highs, super low lows, and lots of anxiety. By the morning of retrieval, (Wednesday, Feb. 26th) I was so sore, I could not wait to get the procedure done. My ovaries were swollen more than 3x their size, and making my whole abdomen cramp. I was nervous, but I knew everything would be ok. Goodness knows I had done enough research that I knew exactly what to expect.

The procedure it's self only took a few minutes, and the only thing I really remember is that my arms were out to my side, strapped down. This was not so pleasant, as I have horrible childhood memories of getting tubes in my ears, and a similar restraint. I didn't have time to even think about it though, because almost as soon as I registered what I was laying on, the anesthesia kicked in, and I was in the land of nod. After the procedure, I really felt pretty good, unless I switched positions. The 'hangover' from the medications was no fun, but that is to be expected. Cam helped me get dressed, and I was looking GOOD. No makeup, no products in my hair, no bobby pins, etc. (I'm one lucky girl that he still loves me after being seen in public with me looking like that) Before we left, we found out they had removed 11 eggs, which was a fantastic number. I was sure we would have no trouble making 5 or 6 embryos from that. They sent me home with instructions to take it easy, and a prescription for pain killers, which would be very thankful for later. Julie took care of me and let me rest on her couch during recovery, and even fed Cam and me. (Such a good mother-in-law)

After dinner, the dreaded moment was upon us. I had my first progesterone shot. Lisa, Cam's aunt volunteered to help us with the "monster shot" and make sure we were doing them correctly. She showed Cam how to draw up the correct dosage, prep the shot area, etc. All the while, I am leaning against the bathroom wall, hiney exposed, trying to be brave and not run from the room. She could tell I was struggling, so instead of warning me and giving me a chance to prepare for the shot, she ambushed me and gave the shot unexpectedly. Yeah, it hurt, but we all laughed. Later, she told me that she felt bad for hurting me, but oh well.. there is no way to give an IM shot without it hurting. (especially when we numbed the wrong area, and there was no deadening) By evening, a bad headache set in, and I went to bed early very early.

The next morning, I woke up and did some design, and laid in bed all day. I was still not recovered from being sick, and the pain from the surgery was 10x worse this day than the previous. It was torture waiting for the results to come in. Mom called, and while she was on the phone, I got on the portal, and THERE WAS NEWS. They had removed 11 eggs, inseminated 9, and out of that 9, 3 fertilized. Only 3... 3 on the first day. From what I read, that is not great. I'll be lucky to have the needed two by the time they transfer. The news of three was bad enough, but they were not showing the grades of the embryos (how well the cells were dividing, etc.) This launched me into a pretty deep depression. In between sleeping, and half watching netflix, all I could do was worry about the results. I think I slept 90% of that day. We had family dinner that night, and I had to go since it was also my birthday party with Cam's family. I tried to hide it, but it was no use. I had gone through so much, only to be defeated, and I was a wreck. We made it a short evening, and came home and went to bed, and I slept all night that night. You would have thought I would not sleep again for days, but I would end up sleeping away most of the rest of the week.

Our First Scoring came in on Friday morning. We had grades 3, 2, and 2.5. (1 being the worst, and 4 being the best. For some reason, our Dr. uses the inverse of every chart I could find on the internet. So, just think opposite.)I was glad to see a three, but the others didn't give me much hope. I was not seeing the positive in any of it. Cam actually had to remind me that I need to be more positive. I really tried, but with nothing to do but sleep, feel sorry for myself, and wait for updates, I really worked myself into nearly a breakdown.

Saturday Morning we got another update, and this one was encouraging. Our babies were already fighters. They had grown, and were showing signs of being healthy. We had grades of 4, 3, and 2.5. Now, this was more like it. I could work with these numbers. No, they were not what we thought we would have, but they were improving. Cam got me out of the house, and we looked at paint colors for a nursery, and Josh and Haley even went with us to Tulsa for some nursery window shopping, and some good food. We found a double stroller that I fell in love with, and we picked out the cribs we would be purchasing. It was fun getting to finally indulge in my baby fantasy, and have an actual reason to do so. We didn't purchase anything that day, but it made my heart happy to be able to look at all the baby things. It really felt like things were falling into place perfectly. I was still holding out hope that all three would be healthy, and we would have a good chance of having twins

Sunday. We were hit with a winter storm, so we slept in, I made us some breakfast, and we sat, waiting for the day's updates. I had been making the joke that my kids were only days old, and I was already pushing them to get good grades. (...Some people thought it was funny.) When they finally arrived in our inbox, we were very excited. Based on what we had seen the day before, we were expecting to see at least two '4s' on the chart, and then a wild card. The internet froze, and then Cam's computer was not wanting to open the document. (It always does that when you are really needing information) I had to get up and pace a bit, because I just could not stand the excitement I felt. Eventually, we got the results up and running. They were not what we were expecting. Over the night, the numbers had declined. We now had a 3, a 2, and one had "stopped developing". Of course, our charts did not say what that meant, but if something is to be growing, and it stops, it can only mean one thing. My heart broke. Yes, we still had two relatively healthy embryos, and they would not put more than two in any way, but I had lost one of my babies. This was real. We had created three precious lives, and I had been mothering them from afar, praying for them, and crying over them. I was sick that I could not be near them or do anything to make them better. This may seem silly to some people. I however fully believe that life begins at conception. Had this child been within me, I would be allowed to grieve it because it would be a miscarriage. No, it was not large, but it took up a big place in my heart. On top of the loss I was feeling, I was experiencing more panic over the entire situation. We were confirmed as a day 5 transfer, which meant that we would have the procedure some time on Monday. I was beginning to think they had forgot about us though. It was already Sunday afternoon, and we did not have an appointment time. We are lucky in the fact that I am not working right now, and Cam's job allows him a certain amount of flexibility. However, there was another storm coming through, and the chances of being snowed in, etc. were growing by the hour. I NEEDED some information so I could make some plans. I can't even imagine what I would have done had we not been in our work situations. We finally got a phone call (after a very direct email to them) from the office, and we were told to be there at 1:45 Monday. This was it. I had a plan, and things were going to work out.

The rest of the day we distracted ourselves with decorating the nursery, picking out wall paper (adorable btw) and paint colors. We even bought a 4.5 foot plush giraffe online, because cam had seen one in a store and was determined to have it. (I was kinda fascinated with it as well) We have 9 months to think about specifics of the nursery, and I know we will change our minds a few times on the specifics, but it was fun to come up with ideas together. Decorating our home has always been one of our favorite things to do together. Cam cares more about the subject than a lot of men I know, and he is actually a better decorator than I am (shhh... don't tell him I said that)

Monday morning came, and I felt like I was in a really bad movie. We were snowed in. Most places around town had about 5 inches, but we had at least 8 in our neighborhood. (by my calculations) neither of our cars could get out of the drive, let alone down the street. Cam had planned on going to work for the morning, but was not sure how to get there, let alone get to TULSA. After a couple of phone calls, it was decided we would take his parents vehicle to Tulsa. One problem solved. How to get to them was another story. His dad is a nurse at the hospital, his vehicle was there, with him. We just had to get to the hospital. Only half joking, I suggested calling for an ambulance. I'm sure we would not have been in that much trouble... That was not needed though. Stacy, the best father-in-law ever, came to our rescue. He left work to come pick Cam up, and save the day.
Fast forward to the appointment. We first met with the Dr. who, very quickly told us that we only had one embryo left. Had I not been paying attention, I might have missed that information. He said it had "arrested" in the night. I guess it was a good thing he handles it the way he did. We signed a few papers, and were quickly whisked away to begin the procedure. It took me a bit to fully comprehend what I had been told. We had lost a 2nd embryo. There was only one left. I was happy to have that one, but I was again mourning a tiny bunch of cells that never knew I loved it. I was also mourning my dream of twins. I desperately want more than one child, and we can not afford to do this more than once. While I was believing that this embryo would be the one, and that it would implant and be perfect, both of us were let down because there was no way it would be more than one baby. The procedure went well (ok, as well as a procedure like that can go) and they said that I have one "beautiful blastocyst." I was made to lay down in the recovery room for a half an hour post procedure. As soon as I was in the room, Cam came in, took my hand, kissed me, and then touched my belly. What he did next will forever be one of my sweetest memories. He leaned in close, and whispered to to my tummy, "Hello". It was a silly thing, and a super simple act, but it meant the world. It said it all. I was carrying our child. There was life in me. We had come so far, and gone through so much. There had been so many detours on the road to where we were. Everything leading up to that moment had seemed so dramatic that this anticlimactic conclusion was the perfect end to one journey and the beginning of another.

Day By Day Breakdown of our Embryo Development:

Our Dr. uses the opposite of this chart, and there is no "5". Just think opposite when you are reading the numbers. This is the best example I could find.

Wednesday:
11 eggs harvested
9 ICSI (In normal IVF, many sperm are placed together with an egg, in hopes that one of the sperm will enter and fertilize the egg. With ICSI, the embryologist takes a single sperm and injects it directly into an egg.)

Thursday:
3 fertilized

Friday:
3
2.5
2

Saturday:
4
3
2.5

Sunday:
3
2
lost one

Monday: transfer day
4
lost another