It’s Not Happening This Time

The definition of failure is lack of success and the omission of expected action. A failure is what I have felt like this past year. As we are coming up on the anniversary of our first transfer, I have all the emotions. This was the transfer that worked. The one where our levels were perfect and doubling, our baby had a heartbeat, and we were days away from being in the second trimester. I’m sad because my baby girl should be here but I also have joy knowing I was even able to have that short period of time “growing” her.

We had no idea it would take almost a full year to do a second transfer. With complications from the miscarriage and having to repeat procedures and blood work, it took my body and our mental game a long time to gear up for transfer two but it was finally here.

May 20, 2022. Our second transfer was finally happening. I did all the acupuncture, ate the Brazil nuts and pineapple core, and drank all the pomegranate juice. My lining was perfect. Our embryo was perfect. It was all lining up! I got up that morning and relaxed. I started my bladder prep with 32oz of water within 30 minutes and headed to the clinic. The transfer itself takes about 10 minutes and went so smooth. Jason drove me home and I relaxed the rest of the weekend. Much needed.

The difference this time was that I felt nothing the 10 days leading to our HCG beta test (pregnancy blood test in the clinic). The first time I remember feeling twinges, cramps, and was just tired but this time was different. I felt defeated by day 4 post transfer.

May 31, 2022. My beta test day. I woke up that morning and took a pregnancy test. It’s way easier (in my opinion) to know what the potential results are BEFORE I go or get the phone call. BIG. FAT. NEGATIVE. No line. Not even a faint line. I moved the test around, seriously in all angles, squinting and trying SO hard to see a line. But I couldn’t. Because there wasn’t one there.

With tears streaming down my face, I hop in my car and head to the clinic. A quick 5 minute, walk in, poke arm, walk out, visit later, I was headed to work. Trying to keep your mind busy while clinging on to some small glimmer of hope thinking your pregnancy test was wrong is so hard. But at 4:07pm, I got the call I didn’t want. The nurse tells me my HCG was zero, I wasn’t pregnant. Even though I took the test that morning and expected an “it’s not happening this time” on the other end of that phone call, it was still a punch to the gut.

So here we are, two transfers down, wondering when the right time is to do the next one. I’m defeated. I feel like a failure. My “expected action” as a woman and wife is to bear children. Next month is 4 years of trying and I sure never thought we’d be here. But we won’t give up.