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Grace's Diary Entries Diary Navigation: Choose A Diary Entry -------------------- Latest Entry: 8/9/00 -------------------- 8/2/00 7/26/00 7/19/00 7/10/00 7/7/00 7/5/00 6/27/00 6/21/00 6/14/00 6/6/00 5/30/00 5/22/00 -------------------- Grace's Introduction

June 21, 2000

The rest of the story ...

Love's Labor Lost
I have said that this will be my second IVF attempt. Not really accurate. It is more like my second IVF cycle. It’s about time for me to tell the rest of the story. This is what happened the first time. Well, the first time was great. I started in late September of 1999. By mid/late October we learned that I was, in fact, pregnant. I continued to take regular hCG tests to convince myself that all was progressing normally and it was. At about 8 weeks, DH and I saw two perfect little heartbeats. Yes, twins. We were thrilled! At 9 weeks I moved from my beloved RE to an OB-GYN. Thirteen weeks arrived before we knew it with no issues other than the normal "pregnancy symptoms" (and believe me ladies, I had them all, and bad!)

The triple screening test came back normal. (Twins often get questionable results.) Our level two ultrasound showed two perfectly normal, healthy beautiful babies. We were going to have a son and a daughter. I had guessed this because at every visit (ultrasound) baby A, boy, was always touching something that looked like a penis. And baby B, girl, had her thumb in her mouth with her legs crossed at the ankles, just like her mother. That day still has to be one of the best days of our lives. It looked like all of our dreams were coming true. Highest of highs.

We moved from our apartment into a house on a dead end, quiet street: perfect for our perfect family. Now it was week 18 and I was feeling fine, a little less tired and I finally believed that this was going to happen. Henry and I were finally going to have the son and daughter that we dreamed about. For Valentine’s Day, DH took me to a Diana Krall concert. As I sat there in the concert hall with our favorite music playing, one hand in his and the other on my big belly feeling my babies kick and move about, I thought that life does not get any better than this. It was true bliss.

Week 20 came and went. Yahoo! More that halfway there! Then at week 21 I began to feel sharp pains under my ribs. "This is normal," I was told, as the babies were just jockeying for space. Fine. At the end of that week, I noticed that the pressure had moved lover and that I had a sudden excess of vaginal fluid. My former OB/GYN agreed to see me. He did a quick internal and sent me on my merry way. Everything was fine. But it wasn't.

The next day I felt lousy and for the most part, stayed in bed. By that evening, the pain was getting worse. Who knew that I was in labor? I had just seen the doctor the day before and I had another level two ultrasound scheduled for two days later. I thought that I was just being a worry wart.

Well, the pains kept me up and got so bad that at 3:00 a.m. I insisted that DH take me to the emergency room. The next 10 days were a complete nightmare. I had gone into pre-term labor due to an incompetent cervix and there was very little that could be done. (I had arrived at the hospital 4 centimeters dilated.) The care that I received was excellent, but nature took its course and at 22+ weeks, my son Alexander and daughter Kelly arrived on March 1, 2000. Their tiny bodies were perfect in every way, but they were too small to live. I am fortune's fool.

Pick yourself up. Dust yourself off and start all over again.

Pain. Heartbreak. Anger. You bet, and more. This was the lowest of lows. I did not know how we would find the strength to go on. The outpouring of support from family and friends was wonderful. Henry and I found new and higher levels of love for each other and from those around us. We knew that there were two options, to die or to continue to live. As bad as things were, I am an optimist, and I knew that in some ways we were still blessed. We chose to live. And to try again.

During the past four months or so, I have tried to find some meaning in this. I am not a subscriber in "God only gives you what you can handle." We did not need this. There was nothing wrong with our babies. No reason for them not to live wonderful and productive lives. No, I will never understand why it happened, but I wanted so to learn some lesson from this experience. And I think that I finally have.

I am a planner by nature. Always planning on the future, dreaming of what will be and looking ahead. I go so far as to turn my new age six months before my birthday actually arrives. (I continued the practice this year even though it made me 34 that much sooner.) It has been a gradual realization, but I know now that all we really have for sure is today, here and now. I have started to live in the moment and enjoy NOW with my head and heart completely in it. Sure, it's healthy to look forward to things, but yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery and today is everything. "These are the good old days."

So DH and are living for today. Instead of wishing the days of Lupron shots away, I am grateful that I have the opportunity to go through IVF again. I am taking time out of each day's routine to enjoy something just for me. A walk. A song. A hug. A fine meal. A conversation with a good friend. The beautiful view from my window. The list goes on and on.

The shots are going much better this time around because DH is giving them to me. No anticipation of the non-pain. I have had hot flashes the past few nights, but other than that, no problems. I have been eating very well, stopped drinking and continue acupuncture and exercising. I work on my attitude and mental state every day.

Keep your eye on the prize!

Grace