SIRM was calling with my embryo report, but I couldn't answer it.
It was just after 10am and I was right in the middle of a meeting to finalize cabinetry for a clients new home, so it would have been more than inappropriate to excuse myself into another room for what would most likely be a lengthy conversation, possibly followed by tears.
I would just have to wait.
I tried my best to keep my mind off of the voicemail waiting for me on the cell phone tucked away in my desk drawer, but it wasn't easy. Because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't clear my mind of the fact that I just let one of the most important phone calls of my life fade off to voicemail while I helped some clients view their new kitchen in 3D on my computer screen.
Embryos development trumps wood and stain color any day of the week.
The anxiety was almost overwhelming. The only thing I can think of to compare it to is when your playing hide and seek, and it's your turn to hide. You find the perfect spot, settle in, and then realize you have to go to the bathroom. And as you see the feet of your seeker coming toward you, you can hardly stand it any longer. It takes everything in you to hold still and await your fate, hoping they'll pass by and not hear your heart beating like a drum in your chest.
That, and getting pulled over by a cop, all at the same time.
But I managed to finish out the meeting just under two hours later, hardly containing my bundle of nerves as I pulled my cell phone out of my desk and grabbed the nearest pen and paper to document the results waiting on the voicemail.
And then another set of customers strolled in just seconds before my first appointment had shut their car doors, asking to take a look at an estimate I'd done for them last week on the computer to discuss a few changes.
About thirty minutes and at least ten deep breaths later, I had the front office all to myself. And before anyone else could walk in the door, I had my code typed in my phone and was listening to the voicemail with pen in hand, ready to write down the amount of embryos still alive, their cell counts, and their grades.
But instead of the usual report, I was given instructions to call my nurse back and we'd discuss the embryos and our transfer time, so I did.
But no one answered the phone at SIRM.
For two more hours.
And when they finally did, I was told that my nurse was unavailable at the moment but that she would return my call as soon as she could.
I spent the next few hours debating what the voicemail meant, listening to it several more times before I finally erased the darn thing out of fear of a mental breakdown. Was that pity I heard in her voice? Why wouldn't she just leave the information on my voicemail like she has in the past? Does she want to give me the bad news over the phone instead? But if it's such bad news, then why would she also be setting up my transfer time for Wednesday?
And after driving myself mad with unanswered questions for another hour or so, I called the office again, to make sure the secretary had passed along my message.
But no one answered the phone, again.
By that time, my work day was over. I figured the only way to ease my mind-and my severely bloated stomach-was to immediately locate some Sundried Tomato and Basil Wheat Thins and Garden Herb Cream Cheese. So I headed to the store and told myself that everything would be fine as long as I got my hands on as much sodium as possible, pronto.
And somewhere between the canned soup and taco sauce, my phone rang.
We have fourteen embryos still alive as of yesterday.
And eight of them have six cells or more.
I'm pretty sure that everyone in WINCO could care less about my embryos well being, because they were more concerned that I was blocking the isle and digging furiously in my purse to find a scrap piece of paper and a pen to write down the good news.
I was so enamored with the fact that all fourteen of our embryos were still alive and that two of them had eight cells, one had seven cells, and five had six cells-all grade two-that I actually told the nurse I didn't need the details on the other six embryos. I just kept blabbering to her that I'd never had more than six cells on day three, and that the middle grade of two was perfectly fine with me because I'd never had more than six cells on day three, and that I was so thrilled with this news because I'd never had more than six cells on day three.
I think all of WINCO was aware that I'd never had more than six cells on day three.
By the time I'd checked out and shared the good news with the few friends that know about this second secret cycle, my mind started over analyzing the situation, traveling back to the past and comparing this cycle to the three others.
Sure I'd had more eggs retrieved, more embryos fertilized, and more cells on day three, but I had no rockstar grade one embryos this time. Did that mean that none would make it to the coveted blast stage? Or that they would make it there, but continue to drop to the lowest grade three before reaching their destination?
It was ridiculous.
I quickly reminded myself that our news, our long awaited embryo report for our final cycle, was amazing. Wasn't our goal to retrieve more mature eggs? Wasn't it also to produce healthier embryos that held more cells on day three? Isn't that exactly where we were today? How could I be anything less than awestruck at this point?
I went to bed last night with a peaceful feeling, void of worry for our precious fourteen embryos. They are still alive, and they are thriving in culture, and God has blessed us beyond what we ever thought would be possible at this point.
Miracles have occurred, and hope has been restored.
And today, as we continue in this waiting game that never really ends, I received the news that the acupuncturist recommended by Dr. Greene is out on vacation and most likely even his associate won't be able to come to the office tomorrow and perform the pre and post transfer Paulus protocol on site that I've had my heart set on for the last few months.
It was that easy for my heart to sink again, and for my brain to become frazzled.
I know acupuncture is not what has brought on these miracles, and acupuncture will not be responsible for bringing us our babies. But today's events made me realize how frail my heart still is, and how desperate I am to make this perfect.
But it's not my job to make it perfect.
I'm still learning to give up control of this situation and let God handle the details. You'd think after all this time, and after all He's shown to us, I'd have learned my lesson, but I just haven't. I'm still struggling every day with trusting Him to take care of our every step, forcing myself out of the equation and instead attempting to sit back and just watch Him work.
So the waiting continues. I must wait for a call back from the acupuncturist office to find out if they can work with me. Wait for a phone call from my SIRM nurse to set up an exact time for transfer tomorrow. Wait to find out if my best friend's husband will be able to get us a room at the Sheridan at his crazy discount rate for a much needed vacation tomorrow night after the transfer. Wait until tomorrow to find out if we have any healthy blasts to transfer.
Then wait to find out if we are pregnant.
I don't think the waiting really ever ends.
So while I wait, I'll sit here at my desk and down an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's Oatmeal Cookie Chuck, enjoying the last day of eating ridiculous concoctions before they give me my babies back tomorrow and everything goes back to organic goodness. I'll trust that God knows what He's doing, and that He'll continue to bless us like crazy.
And I'll wait for it.
When everything around me feels like it's falling apart and wrecking havoc on my perfect plans, remind me to turn to You. I know You control every situation and hold the most amazing plan for our lives, I just need to wait for You to manifest it all into place while I do my best to wait as patiently as possible.
Teach me Your ways, hold my precious embryos in your hands, and bless everyone who has taken the time to pour their hearts out to You on our behalf,
"As you put into practice the qualities of patience...you will have a better opinion of the world around you."