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Knocked Up x2

It has been nearly three months since I last posted, but for good reason. I am pregnant. With twins. And we wanted to keep it under wraps until we had a bit more clarity. But, yesterday, we went social media official so, it only seems appropriate to finally blog about the first 15 weeks of my twin pregnancy.

On April 11, 2017, we transferred two of our remaining eight embryos in a frozen embryo transfer (FET) procedure. On April 16, 2017 (at 5dp5dt), I took my first at home pregnancy test and it was positive! Now, as many of you know, we are not strangers to a positive pregnancy test so, we were very skeptical and cautious. On April 20, 2017 (at 9dp5dt) I had my first beta hCG test and it came back positive with a reading of 158.82. Two days later it had appropriately doubled to 417.41. This was a high milestone for us. We had never had doubling beta hCG numbers. With this, we scheduled our first ultrasound for May 2, 2017. That ultrasound revealed two gestational sacs. The following …
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What Infertility Has Taught Me

In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week, I thought I would share what infertility has taught us.

1. Our first failed cycle was nothing to cry over. Sure, it sucked. It sucked terribly that I was certain that if I ovulated I would get pregnant. It sucked that I had to give myself *gasp* one shot and it lead nowhere.

2. Our second (cancelled) cycle was also nothing to cry over. Okay, this time I had to give myself more than one shot and then the cycle was canceled. But, we knew I would respond well to IVF meds.

3. Infertility is a giant puzzle. A failed first cycle lead to us knowing that I can indeed ovulate on my own. A failed second cycle meant I would respond well to IVF meds. A successful FET meant I could get pregnant. All questions we did not know the answer to until we started down this path. All answers that lead to next steps that are so incredibly important on this journey.

4. Our first miscarriage was something to cry over. We moved to IVF. I shot myself in the stomach a…

When Anger Leaves, Life Begins

Over the past week or so I have spoken with quite a few women who are pregnant after infertility, just  gave birth after infertility, or are beginning their path to IVF after other attempts have been unsuccessful. In these conversations I noticed how different my perspective is from when I began this journey. When Pants and I began seeing an RE we had the naive optimism that getting me to ovulate would equal pregnancy and baby and happy ever after. When we began IVF we had the same naive optimism that our FET would yield a successful pregnancy. We never envisioned an FET miscarriage, a natural miscarriage, and a natural biochemical pregnancy. Not once did we think we would experience such heartache. But, we did. And we grieved and we fought and we picked ourselves back up again. A lot of this rebuilding still involved difficult feelings of jealousy and a woe is me attitude.
Then, something changed. I began to realize that other people's success (on the journey or not) does not mea…


A few weeks ago I was utterly indignant about my TTC journey thus far. Many of my close TTC friends have either had their babies or are now pregnant with their babies. While I am completely over the moon for them, it was very difficult to not feel a tiny huge sense of hopelessness. I felt like this upcoming FET had to be successful in providing us with our forever baby because if not, it would be entirely unfair. But guess what? This journey is unfair. From the moment we stepped into the RE's office, it was unfair. Hell, from the moment I was conceived, it was unfair. "Life isn't fair" my parents said to me, but when you are a child or teenager or in your early 20s, you do not realize how unfair life really is. And, if you are like me, in your early 30s you experience it and become indignant about it and then let it ruin you. Or you do not. For 31 years and 9 months, my life was ruled by indignation. By jealousy. By resentment. Then something changed. Most likely it …

Mom & Sister

On this International Women's Day, I find it pertinent to reflect on two of the important women in my life and their role in our TTC journey. The woman who gave me life and the woman who helps give my life meaning.

I find myself, in probably about 30-40% of conversations with my mom, getting incredibly upset with her. This, unfortunately, is not a new development. It has been like this my entire working memory of our relationship. Most would say this is because we are very similar, which is very, very true. Some women on this journey have a best friend in their mom, but my mom and I have never had that kind of relationship. I have a mom who is incredibly well-intentioned, almost to a fault, but who seemingly does not understand. And to her credit, a lot of that is my fault. I have this assumption that my mom will not understand what we are going through so I neglect to tell her. Of course I have reasons for this and she is not completely in the dark. She knows about IVF, she paid …

Greece + A Plan

I do not usually go so long between blog posts, but something about being stuck in the broken made life seem relatively meaningless. Then Pants and I went to Amsterdam, I worked a month, and we went to Greece and Italy. In that six week span a lot changed. A lot of healing happened. A lot of tears fell, a lot of arguing ensued, but we healed. We still miss our babies tremendously, but we are both ready, now more than ever, to move forward. And forward we are going.
When we were in Greece we met with the fertility clinic Embryolab to have a pre-IVF work up, a recurrent loss panel, and genetic karyotyping. We have all the results back except for the karyotyping. We expect those sometime next week. The recurrent loss panel did not reveal anything that would suggest a problem, my saline sonogram was clear, and all my parts are in seemingly working order. This is all very good news, but of course something coming back as not normal would have given us some answers. Right now it seems the a…


Broken. As I sat in hypnotherapy this evening completely conscious of the tears rolling down my cheeks as my subconscious chased an illusive baby around, all I could think is broken. Every ounce of my being is broken. Into a million little pieces. A million pieces that cannot be put back together. My soul (and my subconscious it turns out) is black and grey and covered in winter. All eternal hope has been grated like cheese. Something once solid and whole is now a pile of nothingness.

One loss was devastating.
Two losses was soul crushing.
Three losses is broken.

Three pregnancy losses in 282 days. 282 days that our hearts have been heavy. And broken.

I am not sure if it is reassuring or heartbreaking that we can handle pregnancy loss. Three losses and we are almost professionals in the pregnancy loss department. In the last three months I have also been a professional two pink liner. But today, a few days shy of a year after our eggs became nine little embryos, and our hope on full, …