A Long Overdue Birth Story

DISCLAIMER: Birth stories are gross. Wonderful, miraculous, lovely, but gross, and mine is no exception. If you don't want to  hear (read) it, click that cute little red x up in the right hand corner. Also, this is probably going to be long. But I wanted to write it all out so I can look back and remember it all in the future.

For some reason, this has been a hard post for me to write. Besides talking it over (and over and over) with Jeremy, I have not shared many of the intimate details of our birth story with a lot of you. I have been wanting to share it, since so many of you had been praying for our "little" miracle, and wanted you to be able to share in the miracle of his birth as well, but the words never came. I was never able to sit down and write out what took place that day, because that meant that I had to face some hard facts and emotions. And I realize that this was almost 8 months ago, but from day one of this pregnancy (and even before) I vowed to give God the glory for it all, and the birth story is no exception. So let's start from the beginning.

My due date had come but still no baby Judah. My doctor had thought that due to dilation when I was just 37 weeks, that our little guy would make his arrival before May 9th. But he did not. So on May 9th, we headed to the hospital for a non-stress test. Everything looked great, so they decided they would see me back in 4 days for another, and after that would start talking about our options. So we waited patiently through the weekend. I hoped so badly that Judah would make his arrival before Mothers day, May 12th. What more could a new mommy want?!?! But sadly, Judah did not make his appearance that day either. So Monday morning we got up, ate a light breakfast, and headed to the hospital again for another non-stress test, in which I was certain that there would be no difference, and just hoped that they would either induce me that week, or that Judah would come. But the results were different this time.

The results of the non-stress test showed that Judah had little divets in his heart beat, which basically meant that he was not functioning as well as he could in my belly anymore, and the placenta wasn't doing it's job well anymore, so they decided for the safety of Judah, I would be induced that day! We were so excited, and so caught off guard. In a sense we were ready, but also, we were so unprepared. We had left our "go-bags" at home and had nothing we would need. So while they transferred me to a room (It was room 13 and it was May 13th)  and started the Pitocin, Jeremy left to go home, eat some lunch, and grab everything we needed. That's when it set in for me...we were having a baby!!

We called our parents, and Jeremy's work, and that was about it. We didn't really want the pressure of people hanging around the waiting room for hours, and we didn't want to have to rush meeting and loving on our little boy right after he was born, so that everyone else could come in and see him. We knew people wanted to see him too, so we decided that we would let everyone know that he had been born when we were ready for visitors. So around 11am, they started my Pitocin at 10cc's and my nurse would increase it by 2cc's every half hour, until I either started having regular contractions or until I reached 20cc's (where then the doctor has to approve any dosage above that). I wasn't having very consistent contractions at all. I would go from having them a minute or two apart, to 10 minutes apart. My contractions were just all over the board. Sometimes they were strong, sometimes they were mild. I wasn't sure how to gage it all. Around 3pm, they checked to see how dilated I was, and I was only at about 6cm. So I decided to go ahead and get an epidural since I was clearly going to be there for a while. By 5pm,  I was maxed out with the amount of Pitocin that my nurse could give me, and I still was not having very strong or consistent contractions. So they got the doctor's approval, and continued to up my dosage. Around 6:45pm the urge to push came. Since I had the epidural, I wasn't feeling a whole lot, but somehow, my body still knew that it was time to go. Around this time, the nurses shift changed, and we met my nurse that would be with us through the evening. Her name was Amber. After talking with her, we found out that she was also a believer in Jesus Christ, and we felt very blessed to have her in there with us. So with all that being said, I began to push. I pushed, and pushed, and pushed...for the next 3 hours!

No one really prepared me for that. I knew you could labor for a long time, but I didn't know pushing could last that long. Yikes! Also, it was my doctor's birthday, and I felt bad as she was missing her birthday dinner, due to me, but there really was nothing more that I could do.  Once things really got going, and Jeremy could see Judah's head, he started telling me all about his hair, which I grilled him about. I was comparing him to other babies that we knew, so that I could get an estimate of how much hair he was going to have. My doctor, nurse, and Jeremy kept saying, he's coming, I can see his head. But I quickly got tired of hearing that, and at one point sternly said "YOU KEEP SAYING THAT!" :) So to prove it to me, they used that handy-dandy mirror so I could watch the progress. I think that was all the motivation I needed. Once I actually saw his head crowning, and that little head with the perfect amount of hair, I gave a few more pushes, and just like that...our miracle baby was here! At 9:43pm, our baby boy was here!

His cry was perfect! As I struggled to catch my breath, and lean myself up (against the affects of the epidural) I saw him! The little boy that I had prayed for 4+years for. The little boy that I thought I would never, ever get the chance to call mine. The little boy that people, literally around the world, had been praying for, was here, and perfectly healthy. I was already crying by the time they had cleaned him off a little bit, and handed him to me (which, btw...felt like FOREVER, but really wasn't more than a few seconds). Holding him in my arms, everything was perfect. He was crying as he stared at me, I was crying as I stared at him, and Jeremy was crying as he watched all of our dreams come true. Everything was perfect! Amber kept asking me if I was ready for them to take him to get cleaned and weighed and everything else that they do, and I kept asking for just a few more minutes.

Finally, somehow, I let the nurses take him. I had a pretty bad tear, and so they stitched me up, pressed on my belly over and over (that just might be the worst part of child birth) and by the time that was done, they were handing Judah back to me. I was loving that time so much. Around 11:30pm everyone was out of the room, and I was loving on my little baby. We decided to go ahead and give my first try at nursing him. It went so smoothly. He latched right on, and everything seemed like it was going to go so well. Around that time, I asked Jeremy to go find Amber to ask her if I could please have something to drink now, as I had nothing by ice chips since 9am. Once Jeremy left the room, I started to feel a little queezy. Just as Amber was coming in, I told her I felt like I was going to be sick, and she handed me a bucket and took Judah just in time. All my ice chips had come up. I also felt a  "gushing" sensation, that felt a lot like my water breaking all over again, and I told her. So she checked it out, and pressed on my belly over and over again and said that I had some pretty large blood clots, so she called for the house doctor, since my doctor had left by that time.

The doctor came in, and thought that I must have a tear internally, so she inserted some packing, to try to absorb the bleeding and gave me a shot in my leg to help my uterus contract back to it's normal size and took some blood work. I began to feel better immediately, and soon after that, Judah was back in my arms.  I was cuddling him, and loving on him, when suddenly it hit again, I felt like I was going to be sick. I called for Amber, gave Judah to Jeremy and ended up getting sick and feeling that "gushing" sensation. This is when things really took a turn for the worse. All of packing had come out with a lot more extremely large blood clots. And when I say clots, I mean, they looked less like a blood clot, and more like a large intestine.  At this point, Amber wasn't the happy, smiley lady anymore, and quickly shot into serious mode. She began pushing on my stomach over and over again, each time I was moaning in pain, and I had another shot thrust into my leg for my uterus to contract and more blood work drawn. Another nurse came in and took the pad that had been under me over to the scale to be weighed, due to the amount of blood I was loosing. Each time Amber would press on my belly, more and more clots were coming out. She called the doctor back in, and once again, she applied some packing inside.

Amber didn't leave my room after that. and I was no longer able to hold Judah. At this point, I had lost a lot of blood already and was shivering. They got me some extra blankets and I struggled to get warm. They decided to hook up some monitors to me. They were taking my pulse constantly and my blood pressure every 10 minutes. Eventually they picked up a trend. My blood pressure dropped, my heart started to race, and next thing ya know, I told Amber I was feeling sick again. Once again, I got sick, had the gushing feeling, the pressing on the belly, a shot in the leg, blood work from the arm. At this point everything gets blurry for me. I remember noticing everyone rushing into the room, and realizing that this wasn't normal. I knew things had gotten bad when I saw another nurse rush in, and wash her hands quickly as she said "Tell me what to do." I was convulsing from being so cold, I couldn't breathe, so they hooked me up to the breathing machine, and I had no strength to even raise my hand. I was struggling to keep my eyes open, but couldn't take my eyes off of Jeremy and Judah who were sitting in the corner.

All of a sudden the calm came over me. As nurses rushed around me, and I could hear them talking their medical lingo, and as I struggled to breathe and while I felt worse than I have ever felt in my life, I just stared at Jeremy holding our baby boy. I remember thinking that I was so thankful that at least Judah was healthy. No matter what happened to me, Judah was okay. I remember thinking that if I don't make it... and that's when it hit me. I might not make it. This might be my last moments here on earth. I realized that I had prepared Jeremy with a few things in the weeks leading up to Judah's birth with things that he would need to know, should things go wrong. He knew how to feed Judah with formula, he knew how to change a diaper, and where to find all of Judah's belongings. He could raise Judah. Watching him hold Judah and care for him, I knew he was capable of being a single father. I knew that he would raise him to love Jesus. I knew he would let Judah know that I loved him more than anything. And that even if I died, those two hours with him were worth it. Jeremy had put Judah down in his bassinet, and came over to my bed. I looked up at Jeremy, told him that I was glad it was me and not Judah. Then with tears in my eyes, I told Jeremy that I loved him and to tell Judah that I loved him. Then I looked over at Judah in his bassinet, and with that I closed my eyes.

I don't know that I ever lost consciousness. But I do know that I became unresponsive. Once again, I got sick, the gushing, the shot in the leg,  the blood work, the pushing on the belly (Which btw...was bruised with finger marks by now) the drop in blood pressure and the spike in heart rate.  At one point, my blood pressure had dropped to about 60/30 while my heart rate was 160. The nurses asking me to raise my hips so they could get the pad out from under me so they could weigh the amount of blood I lost. But this time, I couldn't. I could hear them, but I couldn't respond. They ended up rolling me over. My whole bed sheets needed to be changed, and they practically had a lifeless body to move around on the bed to do it. I remember hearing Amber tell me that I was going to feel a pinch in my other hand cause she was going to start another IV for some medications and for the blood transfusion. I never felt that pinch, but I know she started the IV. I heard another nurse call for Amber as she was pushing on my stomach, and she said "The clotting isn't stopping, we need a doctor." As Amber called for the doctor,  she said "I need the doctor....no, I mean like now!" The doctor ran into the room, and (pardon the gross visual) reached inside. I had my hands resting on my stomach due to the pain, and I felt the doctors hands push against mine from the inside, then say "We got it."

My heart continued to race, my blood pressure continued to drop, and I was having a hard time breathing, but I was finally feeling better. Once I gained a little bit more strength, Amber explained to me that there was what was called a retained placenta. Meaning, there was a piece of the placenta about the size of a dime, that was wreaking havoc on my body. She explained that I should start feeling better, but that I still had lost too much blood and they were going to do blood work to figure out how much I would need for a transfusion and also informed me that they were going to keep the epidural flowing through the night for my comfort.

Around 4 am, I was finally well enough to get some water for the first time. After being able to drink for the first time, I finally was able to get a little sleep. I woke up around 6:30 and was still so weak. I so desperately wanted to hold Judah, but was too weak to do so. I cried so much in the following days. Seeing my baby need to be fed, and changed, but not having the strength to care for him was torture. Around this time, the nurses changed shifts. It was so tough to see Amber go. I really do feel like I owe the fact that I am still here today to her. But she informed me that due to my condition, we would not be allowed to have visitors outside of immediate family, and also that I would have nurse whose sole responsibility for her shift would be me. Once the blood work came back, they informed me that I lost about 50% of my blood (2 liters). They presented me with two options. One, get a blood transfusion, which of coarse, included the risk of contracting a disease, or two, be on Iron supplements 3 times a day for at least 3 months before I even began to feel better. Believe it or not, it was a tough decision, but looking at Judah, and thinking about not being able to care for him for 3 months was devastating, so I opted for the transfusion. They stopped the epidural before administering the transfusion so that I would be able to get up and around later that day hopefully. After the first unit of blood got into my system, I felt a little bit better.

My nurse, who by the way, wore something similar to a candy striper, was an older woman. While she was kind, she was not very gentle. Both of my hands had IV's in them, and my arms had become a pin cushion for blood work that felt like it was being taken every hour. As she started my second unit of the transfusion, she said that it would be best for my healing if I could begin to get up and move around and so she wanted me to sit in a chair. My parents were there visiting by that time, and Jeremy and my parents and the nurse all helped me out of the bed and into the chair.

Like I said, I cried a lot over the next few days. But while I sat there in that chair, everything hurting, someone, yet again came in to draw blood. I typically have a rough time getting my blood drawn. I have been told that I have "baby veins" and often they have to dig around to find my vein. But by this time, my arms were so bruised from getting my blood drawn so many times that it when they tried this time, they burst my vein and told me they were going to go get someone else to do it. I burst into tears as I sat there, so uncomfortably in that chair, just wanting to be back in the bed, and wanting to hold and care for my baby. Finally someone came in, quickly drew my blood as was gone. At this time, my candy striper of a nurse came back into the room. She told me that Judah needed to eat and that since I couldn't hold him on my own, that she was going to give him a little supplement. Once again the tears started flowing. I hated that I couldn't feed him. That's what mothers are supposed to do. Then to top it off, she took Judah from his bassinet, and fed him herself. I was kind of hoping that at least Jeremy or my mom could do it. So finally, with Jeremy seeing my misery, he asked if I could get back into bed. After everyone had told my nurse that I had been out of bed for a while, and some humoring conversation memories, she finally agreed to let me back in bed. My doctor came in around this time, and decided to give me some medication to allow me to get some rest. Until I fell asleep, all the doctors, and nurses left the room and Jeremy laid Judah on my chest. That brought so much healing. Being able to hold him close for the first time, was exactly what my heart needed.

The next morning we were supposed to be released, but due to everything, they were holding me for one more night for monitoring. I felt like a brand new person. I was able to take a shower, we were able to have visitors. I felt like a normal woman who had just given birth. Besides all the bruises on my legs, arms and stomach. I was finally off all IV's, and was able to give nursing Judah another try. But unfortunately, due to the loss of blood, and the blood transfusion, I wasn't able to do so. Judah became dehydrated and hadn't gone to the bathroom for quite sometime. So the following day, we had to make the decision to switch him to formula. Again, lots of tears were shed. But once he started on formula, he went to the bathroom and we were able to go home!!

The next few weeks were hard as I had the baby blues (although I was sooo in love with Judah!) and then I was in and our of the hospital with Gall Bladder issues, which I had removed just 3 weeks after I had Judah. And then of coarse the recovery process. It wasn't until I was about 12 weeks post partum that I finally felt 100% again. But looking back. It was so worth it. The Lord taught me so much in that time. Everyone always talks about how you should have a birth plan, but be flexible. My birth story was not at all how I would have planned it or chosen it to be. But I can honestly say that I have a new outlook on life now. I appreciate the little things. I look at Judah, and almost daily thank the Lord for allowing me one more day to be his mom. As I watch him grow, I realize there is so much I would have missed out on, from his first smile, to rolling over, to eating solids, to now starting to crawl. I am thankful that I have lived to see these mile stones. I look at Jeremy and am so thankful for all he is to our family. And all that he did in those tough first few weeks. He carried a lot of the weight with caring for Judah and around the house those first few weeks and continues to be such an amazing husband and father. So yes, while I can say I wouldn't have chosen that to be our birth story, I am so very thankful for it!

This time I will praise the Lord

So much has happened since our last post back in September announcing the good news that we are expecting a baby. We have been able to see our little miracle numerous times via ultrasound, and have started gathering everything that is needed to care for our little one.

Before we knew the gender of our baby, we had a girls name and a boys name picked out. We were very intentional with the name, seeing as the Lord has been so good and answered so many prayers on our behalf and we wanted the name to reflect God's goodness. I was set to find out the gender the day after Christmas, but with each passing day, it became harder and harder to not know whether we were having a boy or a girl, so we decided to go get a 3D/4D ultrasound done about 4 weeks before Christmas. Sure enough, the very first thing we saw on the ultrasound was that it was indeed, a little boy! Our baby was going to be a little boy, and his name would be Judah Zion Roop.

How did we ever come up with that name you ask? Heres the story. So WAYYY back in the old Testament in the Bible, There is a man named Jacob. Jacob works for a man in order to marry his daughter Rachel. However, he was tricked, and the man gave him his other daughter Leah first. After Jacob agreed to work some more, the man also gave him Rachel. However, Leah was not loved by Jacob. God noticed this, and allowed Leah to concieve, and Rachel to be barren.

 (Stick with me here)  Leah first gave birth to a son and named him Rueben and she said "It is because the Lord saw my misery, surely my husband will love me now." Then she had a second son, and named him Simeon and said "Because the Lord has heard that I am not loved, he gave me this one too." So then once again she had a third son, and named him Levi saying "Now at last my husband will become attached to me, because I have given him 3 sons." (We are almost there, hang in there) Then guess what happened? Yep...she had a fourth son. This time however, she said "This time I will praise the Lord" so she named him Judah.

If you know anything about our journey, you know it was quite the process for us. After 4 years of trying to convieve through multiple interventions, God finally blessed us with a baby. Follow me here:
Attempt number 1: We tried to get pregnant on our own for 2 years. I always just wanted a baby just to have a baby. They are so cute, and bring so much joy. This was my Rueben.
Attempt number 2: When we weren't getting pregnant on our own, we went down the path of IVF. I first had to have extensive surgery for endometriosis and to fix a problem in my uterus. After the surgery we attempted IVF for the first time. After months of tests, shots, bloodwork and everything else, our IVF attempt failed. This was my Simeon.
 Attempt number 3: After another year of disappointments and our hearts healing we decided to give IVF another shot. This time, there were complicaitons and the day I was supposed to have my eggs retrieved, I found out they were going to have to cancel our attempt because I was hyperstimulating. This was my Levi.
Attempt number 4: After all this had happened, I had a serious talk with God. I told him that I no longer wanted to have a baby just to have a baby. If he blessed us with a baby, all the glory would be his. If he didn't bless us...thats okay, the glory would still all be his. I told him that I wanted this baby to be a vessel for bringing him glory in whatever way he saw fit, and that if he decided to bless us this time, we would do our best to make sure that baby was raised and brought up to praise the Lord. I had decided this would be our last attempt. No more were we going to keep pursuing IVF. We would trust that God had everything under control. So, with IVF attempt number 3 underway, I praised God. Through the hard times and the exciting times, I praised God. After all was said and done, we had a pregnancy test done and it had confirmed that we were pregnant! For the first time ever, we were pregnant! What did we do? We praised the Lord.

We only saw it fit that our babys name be a outcry of praise to the Lord. Judah means 'Praise God" and Zion means "In the highest" So together his name means Praise God in the highest! We hope that when people hear his name and they ask how we came up with it, we can tell them of Gods grace in our lives and how he answered our prayers and gave us such a little miracle and that they in turn will praise the Lord.

All the Glory is your's Lord!

A few people have told me I should update this blog with the story and what's been going on since we found out the good news, and so I thought since I had the time, I would do just that.

First of all, let me just say PRAISE THE LORD! Seriously, stop right now and praise the Lord for his goodness. When I think back about our journey and how many of you have prayed for this, I get chills. For the first 3 years of our infertility, not many people knew of our struggle. Our hurt with infertility made us guard our hearts and it was difficult to let people in. After 1 round of IVF that was a failed attempt, we were so broken, we didn't know what else to do but to seek prayer from you. Over that next year, the Lord was yet again preparing our hearts for another go at IVF through a different clinic. This time, we knew the importance of prayer, and of letting you walk beside us in our journey. As you know, our second round of IVF had complications, resulting in Hyperstimulation which again led to a failed attempt. The encouragement we received during this time was incredible. So many more people found out about our story and struggle, and prayed with us over the next two months. As we entered our Frozen Embryo Cycle, I so desperately desired to see a positive result on our test, but knew that it was no longer about the result. It was about God getting glory, no matter what!

Finally, on August 21st we had our embryo transfer. One of the neatest things about IVF is you actually get a picture of your embryo, but then via ultrasound, you get to watch the injection of the embryo. This is just such a joy to see, and truly reminds me of the greatness of our Lord. After the transfer the doctor looked at Jeremy and I am said "And now you get pregnant." At these words, both of our hearts just kind of sank. After 4 years of infertility, and 2 failed fertility treatments, it seemed cruel to say such words, but we would just have to wait two weeks to see the results. But during these two weeks, I came to the full understanding of why God had let us wait so long, and it was for more people to know our story, not to pity us, or to give us attention, but His purpose was to bring Glory to himself through what he was about to do.

We were due to find out the results on Tuesday September 4th through a blood test at my doctors office. Monday morning, however, Jeremy and I had decided I would take an at home pregnancy test, to prepare us and give us an idea of what to expect the next day. Like many many mornings before, I unwillingly dragged myself to that bathroom with a test in hand preparing myself for the negative result I had seen plenty of times before. Before I could even set the test down, a very dark plus mark showed up. I was in so much denial, I thought it was the line that just confirmed the test worked. Once I realized that it was THE positive sign, I started shaking and burst into the bedroom to show Jeremy shouting "Jeremy....I think we are...I think we REALLY are pregnant!" He just stared at me, so I tried to show him the test. I was still shaking too bad though and couldn't hold the test still enough for him to see it. As soon as he realized it, he gave me the biggest hug I've ever received and  his tears started flowing. We just kept saying "Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord!"

We decided just to be on the safe side, we would wait until the following day to find out 100% from the blood work that we were pregnant. That was such a difficult time not being able to say anything to anyone, especially since we were around family for a picnic that day. Those 24 hours seemed to go as slow as possible. But the next day, after my blood work was done, I received a phone call from my doctors office confirming my pregnancy. Her words were "We typically look for an HCG level of at least 100. Your HCG was 1800. You are DEFINITELY pregnant!" Again, I just started shaking, and kept telling Jeremy for the rest of the day "We are REALLY pregnant!" Needless to say, I was pretty giddy for a while.

We knew that a lot of people were praying for us, and we decided not to keep anyone else in suspense. We had a short list of people to either tell in person or over the phone, before it became public knowledge (aka facebook). One of my greatest joys so far, has been seeing those people who have been by our side, and lifting us up in prayer consistently praising the Lord and giving him ALL the glory for this huge blessing to our lives. With each "congratulations" we got, I just kept thinking, "Wow Lord, this is all YOUR glory!"

Exactly one week later, I was at work, when I started having heavy bleeding. The first words out of my mouth was "Please Lord, no!" I called my doctor right away, and they suggested I come in for blood work and an ultrasound. The whole way there, all I could do was pray as tears were streaming down my face. I just kept telling God that I know that this Baby is his, but was asking him to please to please show us mercy and let this baby be okay. I got there as quickly as I could  and  the nurses escorted me to the room right away. Sure enough, as healthy and normal as could be, there was our little blessing on the ultrasound. Again, PRAISE THE LORD!

Since then, Jeremy and I have been able to see the baby one other time, and actually got to see the heartbeat for the first time. What a miracle. We just feel so humbled and so blessed. And we are so thankful for you who have been praying for us. We are confident the Lord has gotten so much more glory through our struggle and pain, then he would have had he allowed us to get pregnant earlier on.

As I am typing, I am 7 and a half weeks pregnant. Our due date is May 9th, when we look forward to, Lord willing, welcoming Baby Roop into this world, and continuing to give God all the glory!

5 days!

Hey everyone! We are quickly approaching our transfer date. In just 5 days (Tuesday, August 21st) we will FINALLY be having our embryo transfer. After my hyperstimulation, and waiting to get an appointment in the lab, we are finally back into daily injections and we are in the home stretch. My anxiety and excitement is starting to rise, but so is the nervousness.

  Jeremy and I have taken the break from treatments to seriously consider and pray about what our next steps will be should this round of treatment fail. We feel that as difficult on my body as this is, and with my likeliness of hyperstimulating, regardless of the outcome, this will be our last attempt through IVF...at least for a while. Should God choose to give us a negative result, we will understand that this is his will and that he is closing that door for us for now. Sure, it will still be very difficult, but we are trying to mentally prepare for WHATEVER the Lord allows.

   With all this being said, we are definitely in need of prayer. Of coarse we are praying for a positive result, so you can pray alongside of us with that. But we are also praying that should the outcome be negative that we will still find a way to glorify God. We know that last time, we had not prepared ourselves for the emotional toll it would take. Our hopes in opening up and sharing our personal journey with you this time, is that should we need it, we know many of you will be diligent in praying for our healing. But also, if it's positive, we will be able to all celebrate the Lords goodness and his miracle together. We are so thankful for those of you who do consistently pray for and encourage us. The body of Christ is such a wonderful thing!

 

A lesson (or two) in Patience

  I know some of you have been asking for an update so that you can continue to know how to pray, so I thought I would take the time to update you on what's been going on the past few weeks, and what the plan from here is.

   After the hyperstimulation, I went for my check-up appointment to see how things were going. My ovaries were still very much enlarged, and the fluid wasn't receding very much, so they decided to put me on a week of bed rest so that my body could try to correct everything so they would not have to drain the fluid. Patience test number 1. This was so difficult for me for many reasons. My life right now rarely allows for much down time and it was a big adjustment. I enjoyed the first day or so, but after that I felt so unproductive and it was hard to be patient and just rest.

  After hyperstimulation the next step is to wait for your body to regulate, and for you to get back a normal cycle. Patience test number 2. As if I wasn't already feeling disappointment from a cancelled IVF cycle, now there is nothing I can do except wait for things to get back on track.

  Next came the good news. My nurse called me and told me that she knows it can be dreadful just sitting around waiting or things to regulate again, so they were going to start me on a medication that would get me regulated and start my cycle within the next week! After this happened, I was to go to the office for monitoring to make sure my ovaries were back to normal.

  Finally I was regulated and I was off to the doctors for that monitoring appointment. After waiting in the office for a while (Mini Patience test number 1) A doctor who has only seen me once before comes in with somewhat of a bewildered look on her face and asks "What are we doing here today?" That wasn't exactly reassuring, considering everything I had been through up to this point, and also the fact that she was the doctor, but somehow I managed to tell her what my nurse had instructed me to do, and that I was beginning a FET (Frozen Embryo Transfer) and so the doctor decided I should get my blood work done.

  As I was sitting BACK in the waiting room for my bloodwork to be drawn (Mini Patience test number 2) a nurse who I do not normally see, came out and proceeded to tell me "Um, Nakeia, You actually need to go on birth control before you do an FET, so you did not even need to come in today so you can go ahead to the checkout counter" Patience test number 3. Major Patience test! I had been told by MY doctor and nurse that I would be having my FET done in just a few weeks. Never once was birth control mentioned, and now a doctor and nurse that don't know my history very well are telling me otherwise. I politely checked out and waited for my typical afternoon phone call from the office to try to figure this out.  With that phone call, it was decided that since my doctor and nurse were not in, that I would wait until the next day to talk with my nurse about my FET plan. Patience test number 4.

  The next day I had another disappointing conversation with my nurse. As it turns out, the lab where they perform the FET's closes down at the end of this month to do major cleaning and sterilization. Due to this, all transfers and FET's have been pushed back, making mine scheduled for August 21st. Patience test number 5. I know this may not seem super far away to some people. But to us, this is extremely far away. Considering this past Saturday would have been the day we found out originally if we were pregnant, and also that we were told we would only have to wait a few weeks to do the transfer and now it's 2 months later.

  For some reason, the Lord feels like we really need a lesson in patience. Although we feel like we are patiently waiting, he keeps presenting us with situations where we have to wait more and more. We still know this will all be for his glory, and that our attitudes will determine how that happens. It is our prayer that we remain faithful, and keep our eyes focused on him, and that we do not lose hope by letting the discouragement get a foothold in our lives. So, if you are looking for something to be specifically praying for, join us in that, and that he will continue to bless us with encouragement. Thank you!
 

A let down & set back, but God is still good.

  Most of you have heard, but in case you haven't, this past Saturday was supposed to be our embryo transfer. However, late last week I was showing signs of hyperstimulation and so they decided to do an ultrasound just to make sure this wasn't occurring. Many of you prayed for us, and unfortunately they found I was hyperstimulating. They found "extremely enlarged" ovaries, and at least 5 decent sized pockets of fluid, 3 in my lower abdomen, and 2 near my ribs.

  The doctor decided to cancel the transfer, because what they believe triggered my hyperstimulation was the dose of HCG (the pregnancy hormone) I received through an IV during my egg retrieval. If they were to continue with the transfer, they are certain that since my body would continue to produce HCG that my hyperstimulation would just continue to worsen, and in some cases can lead to a stroke. They decided that for my safety and the safety of our future baby, we need to post-pone the transfer and do a frozen transfer next month.

  This was quite the let down. I, of coarse, tried my best to prepare myself for the worst (hyperstimulation) but was having faith that God would do as he saw best. My transfer was scheduled for just a half hour later when we found out they were cancelling it, and the drive home was not as exciting and hope filled as I originally planned. Some tears were shed, but God is still good. He see's us through our difficult moments and remains faithful even when I don't.

  So where are we? Currently, I am trying to take it easy. I am extremely uncomfortable due to the extreme bloating (I look like I could be pregnant, and someone has already asked if I was :) )and have moments of unbearably sharp pains. We are praying the Lord eases of me this, and that the fluid reduces quickly. We also are in a waiting game now for a few weeks until my body gets back to normal, before we begin the injections that it will take to do the frozen cycle. If our plans align with the Lords, we will be able to do the transfer next month.

  I know I say it all the time, but I am so truly thankful for you and your diligence in lifting us up in your prayers. Jeremy and I have been so encouraged and this process has been a little less difficult knowing we have people walking this road with us. We feel blessed!

An Urgent Request

Over the past week, ever since my retrieval on Monday, I have had swelling and lower abdominal pains. Yesterday, it hadn't really gotten any better or worse since the surgery and it started to concern me that I might be experiencing what they call hyper stimulation. I left a message with my nurse explaining what I was experiencing and she relayed this to my doctor. My doctor then called me and told me that I am a high risk patient for hyper stimulation and she is very concerned that this is what I might be experiencing. However, she also said that it may just be that my ovaries have swelled from the surgery, which would not be as big of a deal.

So, today is the scheduled day of our embryo transfer. This is when they will transfer the embryos that have been growing into my uterus. However, due to my bloating and pain, I first will be having an ultrasound to determine if I am hyper stimulating. Dear friends, I am asking that you pray alongside of us that this is not the case. If I am hyper stimulating, they will not be able to do the transfer and will freeze the embryos we have, and we will have to wait another few weeks to transfer them. I know this is a very last minute request as my ultrasound is scheduled for 10am this morning, and my transfer is scheduled for 11:30am but I am confident God is still in control. Ultimately, pray that no matter what the outcome for today is, that God will be glorified.