I can't find the right words to say.
And I've tried, believe me.
I could go in to a lengthy story about how I woke up on retrieval day with an eerie calm. Tell you all about how I was more concerned with making it to the acupuncturist down in Sacramento in time than I was about my precious embryos and their development. About how natural it felt to walk into the doctors office and know that everything would be perfectly fine, even before I knew if we had any embryos left to transfer.
But the truth is, I can't find the words to put it all together.
Yesterday, my husband and I were in Dr. Greene's office being told that out of our fourteen little fighters, three of them had developed into beautifully expanded blasts. Our two rockstars were a grade two, and our overachiever had actually spent the last twenty four hours defying science by developing from a grade two to a grade one.
The recommendation by Dr. Greene, Dr. Sher, and their two personal embryologists was that we go ahead and transfer all three of our expanded blasts. Given our history of transferring beautiful blasts-although less than this quality-but never achieving a pregnancy made the decision fairly easy for everyone involved, although a triplet warning was still set in place.
We were then shown a chart of our remaining embryos, and Dr. Greene pointed out that four other beautiful, excellent looking embryos had reached the blast stage but had not yet expanded, so they would be watched for one more day. If they were still healthy and happened to expand within the next twenty four hours, they would be frozen. And of course if any of the remaining seven embryos happened to do the same, they would be frozen as well.
I'd been in this office a million times before. I'd been in that exact chair, holding the exact same floppy piece of paper with pictures of our embryos on it, grateful to have any make at all after our first cycle was cancelled for a reason we may never know.
But this time was different.
Besides our first cancelled cycle, we'd never sat in those chairs having been told to be anything less than hopeful. Ironically, Dr. Greene would always smile, pat my leg, and tell us to think positive, but I never really could. I was too nervous about the little details, about the less than stellar quality of the embryos, or about the rocky road that led us to them.
But sitting there, holding that grainy photo of my babies and being told that we'd most likely have some to freeze, I was overcome with a million emotions. I had no idea it was possible to feel so much love for a group of cells, so much gratitude for a situation, and so much awe for God and His miracles.
Less than fifteen minutes later I was laying on the cot, legs up in stirrups with my mom, mother-in-law, husband, two nurses, two doctors, and two embryologist all crammed into a tiny room to watch our three precious blasts transfer from a petri dish into my womb. I know most people would think it strange, but I couldn't imagine the beginning of our babies lives happening in a more loving way.
And after one more post transfer acupuncture session was complete, the four of us-and the triplets-headed back to the hotel where I rested while the mothers stocked up on magazines, Ben & Jerry's, and fiber gummy bears.
While resting in the car on the way home the next day, I realized that even if this cycle didn't result in a pregnancy and none of our remaining embryos made it to freeze, I would truly survive. Of course I'd be devastated and incredibly sad, but I would no longer look back and wonder what if.
This last cycle has been so full of undeserved blessings, moments of absolute bliss and countless miracles, erasing all doubt and obnoxious head questions in the form of, maybe it would have worked if only we'd done this, or I wish I would have tried that. Sitting there in the car at that very moment, I knew without a doubt that we'd done all we could, the doctors had done all they could, and all that was left was a strong feeling of peace and completion that I'd never felt before.
The rest was in God's hands, and I wouldn't want it any other way.
They say that when your a child of God, we never really know the right words to say. We can't ever really petition to God with the correct phrases, and we certainly don't know exactly how to give Him the glory that He's due. But the Bible also says that the Holly Spirit takes our groanings-our inner thoughts and feeble attempts to do so-and brings them to God in a way that properly praises Him. So even when we don't have the words to say, God sees our hearts.
That's how I felt at that very moment. Like I was thankful, but at a loss for words, unable to truly explain to God how much gratitude I had bubbling up inside. I wanted to come up with some beautiful prayer that praised Him and thanked him for my precious babies, but that also asked Him for His will to be done but for that will to be a child or two or three in my arms in less than nine months; but I couldn't get the right words out without sounding selfish and shallow.
In the midst of this realization, this peace, this utter and complete awe for everything that I'd been blessed with in the last four weeks, God decided to add to my speechlessness even more with a phone call from my nurse.
Telling us that we had two frozen embryos.
And everything changed.
This cycle was no longer it. Up until this point, everything had gone right, everything was perfect, and everything was a blessing; and that was a good thing because this was our last attempt at our biological child. But with the news of two frozen embryos, our world has changed; because even if this cycle doesn't result in a pregnancy, we still get one more try. And if this cycle does result in a pregnancy, we'll still get one more try.
This cycle is no longer our last try.
I don't know why I was surprised by that call. There's nothing God can't do, and history shows that embryos with more than six cells on day three, healthy expanded blasts on day five and frozen blasts on day six are mild in comparison to parting a red sea, turning water into wine and raising the dead. And although God doesn't necessarily manifest showy miracles like He did back in the day, He's still just as powerful.
And I don't know about you, but a perfect on paper expanded blast and two frozen embryos are miracles in my book any day. So much so that I think this is going to be the shortest week of waiting I've ever had to face. I know God can make me pregnant, but He may not choose to do so. Either way, after watching all He's performed in the last three weeks, the three little ones inside of me, and the two precious ones waiting for us in the future, are nothing short of miraculous.
And even for a girl of many words, it leaves me speechless.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
I can't find the right words to say.
Posted by Tabitha at 8:05 PM