I didn’t get my hopes up this time around but still felt like that grade 2 – 9 cell embryo had a great chance of sticking and thriving! I entered that 2 week wait period with a zen mind and a grocery list that included the famous pineapple, pomegranate, Brazil nuts and as much protein as I could muster. Apparently, all those ingredients are also great implantation foods and I wanted to put all chances on my side. I had acupuncture right before and after my transfer, as well as 6 days in (known to be implantation day). I took 3 days off work to relax. I walked an hour a day. I drank a lot of room temperature water… I was going to do everything right this time around, hopefully leading to pregnancy and proving me right for having spent over 25,000$ on trying to have a baby!
Also, realistically knowing that if it did not work, I still had to pay to import the UK embryos, the storage of said embryos and the transfer procedure, I started selling off many of my belongings — things that I no longer needed (that yogurt machine or pizza stone I never used), that no longer fit (many of my pretty dresses) or that could get me some money (bye bye iWatch and beloved paddleboard). Moving the clutter out (despite it not feeling like clutter just two weeks ago) felt good. I was making room for that baby in my life and I was also proving to myself that I could afford this crazy adventure. If I could make even just 10% (but let’s hope for 30%) of what I’ve spent, well I’d be proud of myself.
Speaking of those UK embryos, where were we at with them? Well, finally my clinic had received the forms from the UK clinic and it was now our turn to send them all the filled up forms. At their request, I had to meet up with a genetic counsellor since my donor is a carrier of the Desmin gene. I knew this before deciding to “adopt” the embryos and I had accepted the risk it may have on my future child. However, the UK clinic needed proof that I had seen a genetic counselor, so I added that 300$ visit to my list of expenses and tackled that off now, in case I was not pregnant by end of week. I didn’t want too much longer of a delay getting these embryos.
The geneticist told me that the dominant Desmin gene has only been classified since 2004 and that not much research has been done on it. It’s very rare and no cases were seen to develop in childhood or in the teenage years unless both parents were carriers (not the case here). For adults, it MAY show weakening of the heart muscle later in life or other heart related issues. The onset in my donor family is late-thirties/early-forties. Pacemakers were put in and they have lived/still living the good life. It was an interesting talk and the conclusion was the same as the one I made months ago, it was worth taking the risk. Now that I had an official report saying that I had seen this counselor, my clinic could go ahead and see what the next step would be.
Coming out of the geneticist, I got the itch… I was 7dp3dt (lingo for 7 days past a 3 day transfer) and that is the day that a positive pregnancy verdict COULD start appearing on a home pregnancy test. I caved in. I bought a test, went home and tried…
OMG! Was that a little extra line?
It was. Very faint, but it was there. I had seen enough negative tests in the last 10 months to know that this test was different. Was I pregnant?
I was excited but I knew that I was only seven kilometers into a marathon and that anything could happen before the finish line. I only told a couple people about the result and decided that I wouldn’t assume that this time had worked. It could have been the hormone residue in my body (the trigger as we call it) or just a false positive. And good thing that I did just that. I tested again 2 days later and nothing… 2 days after that, I couldn’t even get the control window to react so I went to the doctor’s and got confirmation. Not pregnant. Again.
It’s funny how this time around, it’s not the “not pregnant” result that hurt the most. It was the knowledge that I had wasted 15,000$ on two tries with my own eggs when months ago I was happy and content with the adopted embryo option… I could have just patiently waited for the embryos instead of impulsively trying again and again… I just felt like I had made the wrong decision and that maybe this whole adventure was a wrong decision. Maybe I was single because I picked the wrong guys. I’m baby-less because I made the wrong choices years ago following a career instead of stability in a relationship OR because I didn’t choose to do this earlier OR because I am now chosing to do it alone. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be a mom to anyone other than my fur babies, Quincy and Deuce.
Of course, being sunshiny Kim, I wasn’t going to let this beat me down too long. I was lucky in life. Extremely lucky. I couldn’t start a pity party because I was unlucky this one time… well 7 times… in the last year… very unlucky… at something I wanted so bad… “COME ON Kim! Shake it off.” I let out a scream and some tears, had a bottle of wine and picked myself up with a “now you know. Stop being stupid and go adopt those little embryos and have that 2.0 family you deserve”.
I’d have to wait two weeks though… as my doctor was now on holiday! ** Can you hear my “REALLY?!?!?!?!” exclamation!
I guess it’s a blessing in disguise though. It gives me extra time to sell more stuff in order to cover the expenses of my next step. Make more room in my tiny house for a tiny being I hope to meet in 10-11 months. Do that spring cleaning that my place deeply needs. Start running again and lose the weight I gained with in vitro (33lbs). I wouldn’t have to do the needles with these embryos — woohoo — so I’d have time to become me again for a month or so! I could count my blessings that I am in a world where options are available. A world where you are here and supportive. A world where seven British embabies are waiting for patiently me. A world of goods, so let’s shake off the bad.
(TO BE CONTINUED)