Time for an update as a lot has happened since I last posted.
As always, thank you for your support and encouragement during our infertility journey. As you may already know, we had an unsuccessful FET (frozen embryo transfer) in February. (See blog post: FROZEN EMBRYO TRANSFER) We were so devastated, but not ready to give up. And we immediately began the process to do another transfer.
In April, we did do another FET.
And I became PREGNANT! We were overjoyed!
But on May 10th, I began spotting blood which turned to heavy bleeding by the 13th. And on May 15th, we rushed to the Mayo Clinic and our worst fears were confirmed when in our ultrasound, the doctors couldn't find a heartbeat. And so, on May 15th, which happened to be Nick and my 9th wedding anniversary, we said goodbye to our baby at just 6 weeks 2 days gestation. Not at all the way we wanted to spend our anniversary, but it was a true reminder that our love will get through anything together.
We are heartbroken but find comfort in knowing that our baby is safe in the arms of Jesus. It's difficult to say goodbye to someone you loved so dearly but never got the chance to meet. I know there are people who won't think it's a big deal since we weren't "that far along." But it doesn't matter how far along or at what point of development your baby was at when one has a miscarriage or still birth. I know it is only a small fraction of the pain of losing someone (a baby, child, or adult) whom you've known and loved for months or years. But still, these unborn babies are real. The love was real. It is a true heartbreaking loss.
I have a lot of updates I want to do on this blog about these past few months, which will include posts on: details about our April transfer, the joy of our pregnancy, my personal experience with my miscarriage, how to help someone cope who had a miscarriage, and what is next for us with medical treatments. And I will update little by little. But, as you know, my writing time is quite limited with daily life with my 2.5 year old twin boys! And I'm okay with that because as you can imagine, I've been clinging to them a little tighter lately.
Nick and I want to thank you for praying with us, for crying with us, and for hoping with us. Thank you for sharing in our journey. It’s been a long road, but we aren't giving up. We truly appreciate your love and prayers.
I saw an idea online last month about writing a letter to your baby to help in the mourning process. I decided to give it a try. I'm grateful I did. The following is the letter I wrote to our angel baby.
Dear angel baby,
I never touched you or held you, but you were our little miracle that was growing inside of me. You grew under my heart. Right under that heart that prayed for you, wanted you, and loved you. Your daddy and I tried for over a year to have you. We loved you even before you were conceived. You were more than wanted. Even though I never met you, sweet baby, I do know you. And even though I never held you in my arms, I will forever hold you in my heart.
You are a part of who I am.
You will always be a part of who I am.
Your story is very special. Your daddy and I are unable to get pregnant on our own unlike most other couples. I was on many medications and we did many treatments and procedures for years until finally 4 years after we started trying for a baby, we held your big brothers in our arms. It's incredible to know that you became an embryo over 3 years ago back in January of 2010 right along with your twin brothers. One of my eggs and one of your daddy's sperm were put together by an embryologist to make you. Isn't that amazing? Not many people can say they were made outside of their mommy and then put back in to grow! It was a hard, long, stressful, trying, and expensive process. I had to take a lot of medications and give myself a lot of shots and fight through the side effects and hormones. But we know we would do it again in a heartbeat just for the chance for you.
After you formed into an embryo, you were frozen for over 3 years with 7 other Vincelli embryos. Two other embryos were put into me for my first fresh transfer (IVF: in-vitro fertilization) and they grew into your beautiful twin brothers. They were our first two miracles.
And then over 3 years later, you were thawed out with one other embryo. Unfortunately, the other embryo didn't survive. But you did. And on April 18th, 2013 we then watched the ultrasound screen as you were injected into my uterus. That was the only time we would ever see you. I will remember it forever. Just the possibility of you made my heart overjoyed.
I don't have a beautiful ultrasound photo, I don't have something physical to remember you by. But I do have the memories of watching the miracle of you happen. Not many people get to experience something like that. Words will never be able to truly describe it. But your daddy and I feel it in our hearts. It is one of our very few memories of you. We will never forget that moment.
Then, we prayed and prayed that you would grow. And grow you did. I was pregnant! You became our third little miracle. We praised God for another little baby to love. In just those 6 weeks, your brain, spinal cord, heart, and other organs were forming. Even your facial features were already beginning to appear. The neural tube along your back was closing and your heart was pumping blood.
God was at work in your tiny little life.
You were real.
Our love for you was very real.
But your heart stopped beating.
You were ours, precious baby, if only for this short time. I wish we didn't have to say goodbye. I don’t know why you were taken from us. I have a lot of unanswered questions. But one thing I am sure of is that God had plans for you even before you were conceived. I may not ever know or understand the reasons why, but I choose to trust that God’s purpose is good and perfect.
I choose to trust.
I choose to keep the faith.
I choose hope.
Daddy and I know that God will keep you safe until one day when we be reunited with you in heaven. Even among our pain, we know it is a joy that you will only know a perfect place. And as much as we want you here with us, we take comfort in knowing that you will never have pain or tears or suffering. You will only know heaven. I can only imagine what perfect lullabies you must be hearing now. And I will smile when I think of you dancing in heaven with Jesus.
My heart aches. I know it will get easier, but I will always miss you. I ache to have you growing again. I ache when I wonder if you were a boy or a girl. I ache when I think of what your personality would have been like. But I feel happiness too. In fact, each time I think of you, I feel a pull on my heart. It tightens and feels a sense of warmth. I feel that every time...each and every time. Even though there is a lot of sadness, I feel so much joy when I think of you.
Your tiny, short gestational life holds a big place in my heart.
You were our hope and you will continue to be our hope.
I will always love you, sweet baby. You will never be forgotten.