{Beta Day, Part II}

I waited on pins and needles for nine hours for good beta news.

Nine hours.

I kept telling myself to just relax, because I was pregnant. I could feel the tiny twinges and twitches of a growing uterus, and I was already lighting up with that healthy pregnancy glow. I was careful not to pick up anything weighing more than ten pounds for fear of putting my unborn child in danger, and I had finally brought out my collection of pregnancy clothes to stare at longingly until I was large enough to have to wear them.

They've been stuffed in the back of my closet for years; along with the pregnancy books, baby blankets, onsies and stuffed animals.

This entire cycle was an answer to prayers, this pregnancy was a miracle, and I just knew God was going to show us-and everyone else-great things through this little blessing. Because after two IUI's, four IVF's and a little over three and a half years, I was finally pregnant.

But then it was gone almost before it started.

I didn't know what to say when my nurse told me that she was calling with bad news, and I wanted to hang up the phone and make her call back when she had good news for me. I had almost forgotten how to receive bad news at this point, I was finally getting used to all of the good news for once, and I almost threw the phone down like it was a poisonous snake.

I asked what the number had dropped to, and she said it was already negative.

I didn't ask her out loud, but I couldn't help but wonder what this meant. Did I miscarry? Was this a chemical pregnancy? With a beta of eleven only thirteen days past ovulation, did that really count as a pregnancy?

I never even saw a positive pregnancy test; my numbers were never high enough to turn a second line pink.

It's almost as if it never really happened. If we wouldn't have had our blood drawn as early as we did, we would have never known we were pregnant at all. And it felt like someone was playing an awful, cruel joke on me, telling me I was pregnant and then taking it back less than two days later.

But I was pregnant, even if it was for a very short time. I really was. My beta of eleven was proof of that. Somewhere along the line, we were successful in attaining an embryo or two that God allowed to hatch and attach, snuggling into my uterus, and I was pregnant.

I have no idea what this means, and I have fifty-million questions to ask the doctor about when I get all of my thoughts in order; and of course I haven't forgotten that we still have two frozen embryos on ice and one more chance that we are so very grateful for. But I'm also scared because I know the odds of a frozen embryo transfer working are only about half of the odds of a fresh IVF cycle working, and we all know how well fresh IVF's have worked for us so far.

I also know the three best embryos were placed inside of me almost two weeks ago, so that-along with the realization that some embryos never make it through the thaw, let alone with out cell damage-makes me nervous as well.

But I'm trying my best to push these thoughts away and just move past this.

I know God has a plan, and He chose to give us these two embryos that were able to be frozen, so I know we have a chance. And I may never understand why our most perfect cycle and short lived pregnancy ended almost before it began, but I'm still praising God that we were able to get pregnant at all.

Even if it was only for a few days, it was still our miracle.

The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.

Job 1:21 (KJV)

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank You for this cycle, and thank You for this pregnancy. Although our hearts are breaking right now, we still give You the glory, honor and praise for this miracle that was only with us for a short time.

Please continue to give us the grace and strength to move forward, and please bless the two precious embryos that You've allowed to survive and be frozen. Give us wisdom to look to You and do Your will, and please guide and direct us in the way that You'd have us to go.

Amen.

“The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle.”

-Anais Nin