If at first you don't succeed...

If you want to get caught up, you can read from the beginning here...
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

"He staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief; but was strong in faith, giving glory to God." - Romans 4:18

I'm not sure how I could have forgotten this part, probably because I try to block it from my memory as much as possible. While sitting in the RE's office after our first failed IVF attempt, our RE placed several binders on the table in front of us. In the binders were page after page of donor profiles. Since the donor industry is a constantly changing enterprise, we chose to take our search to the interweb in order to get all the possible options available. We were referred to a specific donor agency (same one that had the binders in the doctor's office) and found a donor that looked like she would be perfect! She a donated before and had a great medical history. We actually started to think to ourselves, that maybe this might go pretty smoothly after all! Ha ha ha - yeah right! I found some relief in the fact that this donor had done this before and knew the process. It was so hard with my cousin, and all the not knowing, and how uncomfortable she was. As we started to proceed with the cycle we kept getting the run around from the agency, and come to find out, the donor we chose was freakin pregnant! Well, alrighty then. We had a backup donor picked just in case, and just moved down to the next one on the list, however this really should have been our first red flag about this agency. The second donor we chose had also donated before and with great success, so we really didn't have any apprehensions about it, and I'm a go with the flow kinda girl, so I didn't think much about it. We told the director that we were looking to move pretty quickly on this cycle. This was just me trying to be in control, all about my timing you know. As a teacher, you want to try and plan your pregnancy to work with your work schedule. I had not fully accepted the idea that God doesn't care about YOUR plans, and that everything is in HIS divine timing. Well, we kept waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and the director kept putting us off, ignoring our calls and emails, saying that they all of sudden started going to her spam folder - yeah right. At this point, Jason and I started to get really pissed, I mean what's the freakin deal lady, let's get this show on the road already! Eventually, we got the call, from our RE nurse of all people, that OUR donor was in the middle of a cycle with another couple! What the hell?! And why the hell is my nurse telling me this and not the agency director?! By this point, I was livid. We had already paid this agency a great deal of money and we just got royally screwed. Here's part of an email that I sent to the director that kind of sums up a little of what we went through with them:

"Throughout this process, we have given your agency the benefit of the doubt and hoped that you would do the right thing.  Yes we signed a contract, but this contract was signed with the pretense that (Agency) properly screened their donors.  We understand that you cannot control all actions of your donors, but it is quite clear that you are not in the least bit thorough with your screening.

 

The first donor that we chose ended up being several months pregnant.  While you cannot ensure that your donors will not become pregnant, if you were calling them each month to check in on them as you stated, this would have come up.  The donor that we moved forward with ended up being very deceptive, was working with another agency and was in the middle of a cycle for another couple.  As an agency, you are aware of that donors have profiles with different agencies and you should have asked if she was currently in the middle of a cycle or if anything had changed since she filled out a profile for you.   The agency is the only buffer between the donor and the recipient.  The recipient must put their trust into the agency and is paying them to provide a quality donor.  Even if you were lied to throughout the process by the donor, the fact that you asked us if we were interested in doing a shared cycle with the donor that had just deceived us shows your true colors.  This donor was obviously a horrible person who had lied to us and set us back several weeks, yet you were still willing to work with her.  

 

After we cancelled our contract, it took you two months and a barrage of calls before we received money back.  This put us in a huge financial strain.  I left several messages begging for a call back.  Not one was returned.  I'm not certain we would have received any money had we not annoyed you into writing checks. 

 

Throughout this ordeal, we have found several others that have had similar issues with (Agency).  This shows that you are not in this business for the right reasons.  On the Better Business Bureau website, it shows that (Agency) has seven complaints against it and an 'F' rating.  There will soon be an eighth complaint. 

 

Below is an article that (director's name) wrote in 2005 followed by two quotes that I pulled from it.  I'd suggest you re-read this article several times to remind yourself how a surrogacy agency should be run.

 

"The agency should provide thorough screening of all donors and surrogates."

"All agencies should provide couples and surrogates with 24 hour access to the staff. ""  

 

It never occurred to me that someone would go into a business such as Donor Egg Donation and Surrogacy and exploit its clients vulnerability, violate their trust, and essentially steal their money. The director had promised to refund us all the money, granted I sign a waiver vowing to never discuss our experience with them. We never saw a dime. Shortly there after, she closed her business. All I can do is be thankful that no one else will ever have to experience what we did with that agency. We moved forward with a different agency that was completely professional, but we all know how that ended.

 

So, after all that craziness, we decided to take a break from family planning and just focus on us for a while. 2009 was not a good year for us and we could not wait to put it behind us. We met with our RE after the 2nd failed cycle to discuss options moving forward, and to be honest, I was DONE. I had been sticking myself with countless needles and hormones for months and was just over it. Our RE offered us his services for free should be decide to go through another round of IVF. And as incredibly generous of an offer that that was, I didn't think I could emotionally handle anymore of this. I was not cut out for this kind of drama and constant heartbreak. I'm pretty sure I could never make it in Hollywood either.

 

We made it through the holidays trying not to dwell too much on our own pity party that was going on and tried to focus on the positive things in our lives. I know that their intentions were pure in nature, but I was about to stab someone in the eye with a fork if they told me again to "just relax, it'll happen", or my favorite, "you know, my doctor told me I wouldn't be able to have kids either, but then I had 8 of them!" Ok, so maybe it didn't go exactly like that, but that's pretty much all I took away from it. I wanted to scream from the roof tops "Look people, no amount of relaxation is going to help me get pregnant! I could be in damn coma and not get pregnant!" I know that people just don't know what to say, I understand that, really I do, but it's so much better to just say "I love you and I support you and am here for you". That's it, I don't need to hear an antecdote about a friend of a friend and blah blah blah.

 

I remember writing this as a way to help me remember to be thankful for all that I DID have in my life:

When life stresses you out, sometimes it's easy to overlook the good things in your life. In trying to become a healthier person, it is important to me to not leave out my emotional, mental and spiritual well being. With that said, I have compiled a list of reasons why I am truly blessed:

I have an amazing husband who loves me for who I am, flaws and all
I have wonderful, loving parents who have always provided me with all that I need
I have a cousin who is more like a sister to me who is generous beyond belief
I have a beautiful puppy dog who fills my life with joy and makes me laugh everyday
My husband and I have a great home in a nice neighborhood where we always feel safe
I don't worry about how I am going to pay my bills each month
I know I can call on my best friends when something is bothering me or if I just want to talk
I am healthy (relatively speaking)

The list can go on and on... but at the end of the day, sometimes you just need to remind yourself that despite what may be going on, you really are blessed.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

We talked and prayed about our future a lot in those last few months of 2009 and ultimately decided that we would give it one last try. I can honestly tell you  that the financial aspect of it was a big determining factor in our decision. The fact was that we just didn't have the money to adopt, and here was our RE offering thousands of dollars of services for FREE! We had also agreed that if it didn't work again, then we DONE, for good. We would get a bunch of dogs or something, but we both knew that we could not emotionally keep putting ourselves through this craziness. We had a new found optimism and hope for 2010. I coined it the baby makin year. We also resolved to not tell a single sole about this cycle. Part of the hearbreak was having to tell your loved ones and friends who had been praying for you, encouraging you, and supporting you through this whole journey that it didn't work, and God forbid you forget to tell someone, and a little while later they bring it up and ask how it's going - talk about reopening a wound! It would just be easier this way. Well, then New Years Eve came around and my best friend confided in me that she was pregnant and scared shitless. She was married, but it was a definite surprise for them. She never really saw herself being a mom and was terrified about whether or not she would be a good mom. It was then, at a bar, in a bathroom stall, somewhere around midnight, that I told her that hopefully in a few weeks she would not be alone in her journey, and maybe our kids would be best friends too. She was the ONLY one that knew, and I know that just the mere thought of having me go through this with her calmed her nerves considerably! It was also nice to be able to tell someone, someone I could trust not to tell anyone else. We took a no-stress approach to it. It was almost as if it wasn't even happening at all. We really didn't talk about it much, we didn't obsess over follicles or embryos or timelines. I even took it upon myself to do my own bum injections, and would you believe that they were WAYYYYYY less painful when I did them myself?! Why did I not do that sooner! So that helped with the stress level too! We celebrated my 29th birthday on January 10th and by February were ready to go big or go home (whatever that means). You won't BELIEVE what fate had in store for us next!

We went through a completely new agency this time around, making it our 3rd agency. We liked the one we went with last time, but we donor we chose was with a different agency. We took out a loan from the bank to pay for the donor and hospital fees (anyone else go broke trying to get pregnant? No, just me? Cool.) Our donor had successfully donated once before and it ended in a pregnancy, so we felt pretty good about that. She was set to go in to our RE's office and start her stimulation meds on February 6th. After her appointment, I got a call from our nurse. I didn't think anything of it, I assumed she was just calling to give us an update and our timeline, but that wasn't the only news she had for us. She basically asked if I was sitting down and went on to tell me that the donor was very nice and seemed to be very responsible but there was something a little peculiar about her, and after looking into it a little further, discovered, are you ready for this? She was the freakin sister of the donor that deceived us in round 2! MIND BLOWN! Are you f-ing kidding me?! Seriously folks, I said it before, but you can't make this shit up! Our nurse had called the doctor that this donor used in her last cycle to get the inside scoop on her and was only given glowing reviews of her responsibility, punctuality, and demeanor. Soooo unlike her sister. Seriously though, at this point all you can do is laugh and say, of course she's her sister! It's us were talking about. This crap would only happen to us! Now, this donor had no idea that we had tried to use her sister or who we were at all. It was 100% fate. I guess in hindsight their profiles would have been practically verbatim, but they didn't look alike at all, and we had literally looked at hundreds of profiles, so it never occurred to us that we had seen it all before. I had to tell Jason when he got home, and he had pretty much the same reaction that I did, and then we laughed about it some more. Y'all if you can't laugh about life, it's going to get the best of you! We both came to the conclusion that our kid(s) we meant to have these genes, and that this was a God thing and we didn't think twice about moving forward with cycle. Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor?!

The egg retrieval was scheduled for February 17th. On the day of the retrieval, we ended up with... wait for it.... 30 eggs! That's right I said thirty 3-0! We could not believe it! WOW! Now we just had to pray that a good number of them would fertilize and that Jason's boys were good swimmers! The next day (Thursday), we got the news that a whopping 27 of the eggs fertilized! Jason and I were over the moon excited to hear this news! In our first cycle we got 9 eggs and only 7 fertilized, and in our 2nd try, we only got 5 eggs, and only 2 fertilized! So you can see what a huge difference this cycle was for us! The transfer was schedule for Monday (2/22). We would not receive another update until the transfer on Monday, so naturally we waited with baited breath. I guess our prayers must have been heard, because when we got the hospital on Monday, we found out that we had two PERFECT blasts to transfer and possibly 4 more to freeze! They tried to convince us to just transfer one embryo - but we took into account our luck - and opted to put them both in and risk the high chance for twins. I literally told my doctor, "Look, this is the third time I have sat in this room, put the damn eggs in!"

That's what 2 PERFECT blasts looks like :)

We went home and vegged out the rest of the day and I took the next day off too (not wanting to take ANY chances this time around. I sat anxiously waiting for the call to find out how many/if any embryos we had to freeze, and... we've got 4! We have never had any to freeze before - this is such a relief - it's like a huge weight has been lifted and we can finally breath a little easier. FINALLY, things seemed to be going in our favor! I knew this was going to be a good year!

My beta test was scheduled for Tuesday March 4th, however that was a TAKS testing day for our school and there was no way I could even sneak out for 1/2 an hour to go get my blood drawn, so we would have to wait yet another day before learning our fate! Ugh, the anxiety! I tried not to think about it, which it was really hard to think about anything else besides that and my aching bruised bum (those injections are killer!) So there we were, all we could do was wait, and pray, and hope for the best, oh and buy a home pregnancy test! We had not done a home pregnancy test with either of the last two cycles, maybe it was because I somehow subconsciously knew what it would say? I don't know. But this time felt different, so with knots in my stomach, I trucked my way to the grocery store and proudly plopped down my purchase on the conveyor belt and thought about how badly I wanted to see those two pink lines. I had read that you should wait until morning to do a HPT, that you get the most accurate readings, so held out until Monday morning (I am seriously proud of myself for letting that test just sit there on my bathroom counter and not rip that bitch open and use it right away). We woke up and started our normal getting ready for work routine, the only difference this time, was that I held a little stick in my urine stream while I peed. I set it on the bathroom counter and walked away. I sat on the bed watching the seconds tick by. I honestly don't remember where Jason was or what he was doing, he could have been right next to me for all I know. I was in the ZONE. My heart was racing a mile a minute, I was on the verge of tears, mentally convincing myself that it was just going to be another negative and already talking myself off the ledge. It was time. Is it weird that I am reliving the exact emotions of that day right now, as I type? My hands are literally shaking right now! I walked into the bathroom, picked up the stick and this is what I saw...

 

 

Holy Shit Y'all! Are serious right now? Jason and I embraced each other, and I just started to cry. I think really he was the only thing keeping me from falling to the floor. I couldn't even feel my legs at that point. I just cried and cried in disbelief. It's a good thing I didn't already put my make up on! You couldn't have wiped the smile off my face if you tried. I knew that there was still a chance that it wasn't "real" and that only the beta could confirm a pregnancy for us, but this was farther than we had ever come in our journey, and I just knew that our luck had turned around and it was OUR time, it was our turn. God always provides, and whatever you ask for in his name, he will deliver. I was confident. I may or may not have taken like 5 more tests just to be sure though :)

Obsessive much?

 

Wednesday rolled around and I went in for my beta test. Even the phlebotomist told me she felt like this was the one! A few hours later, Jason and I sat anxiously on the coach awaiting THE call. I picked up the phone, and the nurse immediately started with, "well, I've got some good news for you", and there ya go, I lost it again, tears streaming down my face, but finally, FINALLY they were happy tears. She went on to tell us that we had a beta level of 668, which is pretty high. All I knew is that I WAS PREGNANT - HOLLA! Suddenly it occurs to you that, Oh my God, there is another human growing inside me RIGHT NOW, and I don't care who you are, that shit is cray! We had to wait a whole week before our second beta - which was torture! I thought for sure that we were going to receive bad news, as I was experiencing absolutely no signs of early pregnancy at all! But... low and behold... Jason called me at work with the good news that our second beta level was 12,000! Crazy high! The nurse said she was very interested to see the ultrasound - will there be one in there or two???? My kids were questioning me all day as to why I was crying and why I was smiling so much! One change of events that started shortly there after (March 7th I believe) that is not so pleasant was... HIVES! Jason ended up having to take me to the ER one night because he was so concerned (first time ever in an ER) - but in classic Candice style... apparently 1% of pregnant women develop hives because of the elevated hormone levels in the body - lucky me! Yup, I was allergic to being pregnant. Awesome. So I was covered in hives head to toe for about a week and a half before getting referred to an allergist.

He basically said he wasn't sure what was causing the hives, but he gave me a prescription for some Xyzal and gave me a back up plan if that didn't work. It's rather hard to be so happy when you are constantly scratching and itching and in such a state of discomfort. It was awful. Seriously, I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. Well, I take that back, I can think of one person (ahem, agency director).

We were set to have our first ultrasound at 6 weeks (which was actually only 2 weeks after finding out we were pregnant). I couldn't wait to have confirmation that a) I was still pregnant and b) whether we having one baby or two! And the very best part... getting to tell our parents. Remember, they had no idea that we were even doing another cycle, so imagine their surprise when we told them we were pregnant! For once, we were like every.other.normal.couple giving the good news of impending grandchildren! Jason and I were both the oldest in our families and our parents would be first time grandparents, so to say they were excited would be quite the understatement! Sharing the good news was by far my most favorite thing ever! But it doesn't end there.

"But the angel said to him, Do not be afraid, Zacharias, for your prayer is heard; and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call his name John. And you will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth. "  - Luke 1:13,14

Second time's a charm??

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD, even as we put our hope in you. - Psalm 33:22

I started my daily Lupron injections on September 29, 2009, and our donor was set to start taking her stimulation injections on October 17th. At this point, Jason and I had to refinance our house in order to afford a second round of IVF. Donor eggs don't come cheap people! Some people will pay upwards of $20,000 to a single donor! We didn't care if our donor was a Harvard supermodel with ties to the Kennedy's or the Royal family, so we settled for a very lovely young woman, with a great medical history, and who only wanted $5000 (the average going rate at the time).

Before starting our first round of IVF with my cousin, Jason and I took a "Last Hurrah" cruise, since we thought it would be the last trip we would take together as a family of two. Well, we all know how that worked out. So we decided to have a "Last Hurrah" Take 2, and hit up New Orleans for Jason's birthday. We really needed this time to unwind and reconnect before jumping back on board the crazy train when we got back. The mini vacay was awesome! I had actually never been to New Orleans before, so I was beyond excited! We had such an amazing time! I had asked my physical therapist (oh sheesh, I guess I forgot to mention that whole mess! I'll get to it in a minute) for advice on places to go since she was from there. We hit up all the usual spots, as well as some lesser known gems! Like this one. Can I just say... wow it was amazeballs (for all my mama laughlin readers)!

The Pecan Waffle was the bomb!

 

This was our first stop - and Jason got totally hammered after 2 grenades! We had to go back to the B&B and take a nap.

The town was BANANAS! LSU was playing Florida and crazy college co-eds were EVERYWHERE - you'ld think we went during Mardi-Gras - It was awesome!

 

 

OK, so a quick side note about the whole physical therapy business. Some details of what you are about to read may be slightly fictionalized - should certain people, ahem my parents, read this one day. I'll let you decide which part that might be. So, shortly after getting married and having relations for the first time ever, I discovered that it hurt like hell pretty much every.single.time. And I would inevitably bleed afterwards every.single.time. While I'm sure it did wonders for my husband's ego, I was not having it. You hear all this talk about how great sex is, and yet here I was YET AGAIN, different from everyone else. Can I just catch a break here? If I can't get pregnant from sex, can I at least ENJOY it?! Well, this went on for YEARS. I'm not saying I never enjoyed sex, in fact after the initial pain of insertion went away, it was quite enjoyable, but then when it was over, the pain came back, lasted a few days, and then the cycle repeated itself all over again. I had told my doctor, and she suggested lube (really doc? No shit!), then she prescribed some estrogen suppositories. Um yeah, that was gross. I think I'll take the pain over having damp, dripping, creamy, panties all the time, uhthankyouverymuch. Lovely description, huh. If only I were making this stuff up people. This crap really happened. Feeling better about your own life yet? No, well just wait, it gets better! So, when we had made the decision to start trying for a family, I decided to switch to a new doctor (ob/gyn) that was closer to our house. Upon several recommendations of friends, I chose Dr. G. Can I just tell you that he is THE best doctor on the face of the planet! On my very first appointment (my annual), within maybe 2 minutes of being all up in my business, he peeked up from behind the sheet and asked me if it hurt when I had sex. Um, yeah, only always, how did you know? Long story, short... I have vaginismus along with everything else - yay me! If you don't know what it is, you can read all about it here. So there are many possible causes for how/why a woman develops vaginismus, but I think mine is directly related to the events that occurred when I was 15. Regardless, it's not as easy as here take this pill, or perform this surgery to fix it, no no, it's much more involved than that. I went to a physical therapist that specialized in pelvic floor disorders - who knew this even existed?! I went every week for several months, where she would essential torture me, or at least that's how it felt, and I was ordered to do dilator therapy at home, and in time, I would be able to control my muscles and reverse the tightening reactions of my pelvic floor. Why not, right? We're made of money! Naturally, insurance covered pretty much none of these therapies. So yeah, that's the story behind the physical therapy. Jealous?

 

Now, where were we? Oh yes, so while we were in Nawlins, I began my Lupron injections (in my belly). On the 26th, we got a call from our RE's office letting us know that, unfortunately, the ultrasound was only showing 5 follicles with our donor. All we could do was hope and pray that each follicle would produce an egg, and that one, just one of them would become our baby. They proceeded with the egg retrieval on the 28th, and Jason went up to clinic to do his part. Again. I'm pretty sure when Jason asked him mom where babies came from, she forgot to mention the part about beating off into a plastic cup in a small room at a clinic. How weird would that be, walking in, everyone knowing exactly what you're doing behind that door - ugh I shudder. All 5 follicles did indeed produce eggs, however they did not seem to be developing properly once fertilized, and by day 2, our RE wanted to go ahead and do the transfer. If you recall, we had 10 eggs with the first round and transferred 3 embryos on day 5 -so this was all kinds of different for us. On the day of the transfer, only one little embryo was viable.

 

 

There will come a time when you can't make it on your own
And in your hour of desperation
Know you're not the only one
Prayin', "lord above, I need a miracle
I need a miracle"

-Third Day "I Need A Miracle"

 

The RE even questioned whether it was even worth it to us to go through with the procedure. Needless to say, he did not have high hopes for this little embryo. But, we had come this far, and I  went back to my mantra, "all you need is one", and we went for it. I have never prayed so hard in my life. I was in constant prayer every single second of the day. For 9 whole days. I went in for my beta (blood test) on 11/11, hoping that it would be our lucky day. I had plans of cute ways to surprise Jason with the news. There are so very few surprises in the world of IVF. I remember this day so clearly. It was an awful day. For some reason I wasn't working, maybe it was a Saturday? I was at the mall returning something, my head was in a fog all day, I couldn't focus on anything, including driving apparently. When I was pulling out of the parking lot, I straight up slammed my car into another lady who was also backing out. Great. Luckily, there was no damage, so we didn't even exchange info. I got in my car and started crying, like I already knew how this day was going to end. I was supposed to meet up with my friend who was in town at a different mall across town, so I started heading that way. I pulled into the parking lot and was about to get out when my phone rang. It was my RE's office. I thought they were going to wait until later to call, and for a split second I thought to myself that maybe they were just so excited with good news that they just couldn't wait. Yeah, I was wrong. The beta was negative. Again. My heart sunk. It was as if all the blood in my body drained down to the floorboard of my car. I was alone. After several minutes of punching my steering wheel and mascara running down my face, I put my big girl panties on and resolved to not lose it until I got home. Just focus long enough to get home. Then you can crawl into a ball and cry until you have no more tears left. And that is exactly what I did.    

 

I hope to have part 4 up today. 

Ready? Let's Do This...

First of all, I just want to say thank you so much for everyone who is reading this. I cannot tell you how incredibly terrifying it is to disclose this chapter of my life. Only a few very close friends and family know this much about this part of my life. In the past few weeks I have really felt called to share my story, even though the thought of it all being out there for the world to see literally paralyzes me with fear. Fear of what others will think, how they will react and in turn view me and my family. Fear that they will begin to treat us differently. It's like deja vu 16 years later! I just have to trust that this is what God wants me to do. This is my testimony of faith as much as it is my journey through infertility. Deep breaths...

I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. - Philippians 4:13

Part One
Part Two

Part 3

I vaguely remembered sitting in the doctor's office that day (that will go down in history as the worst day ever), and her talking about "how far science has come", blah blah blah, "in-vitro fertilization with donor eggs", blah blah blah, "I see no reason why you couldn't carry a child yourself." My ears perked up, say what? I wiped my tears away, and with a wrinkled brow asked how that would even be possible. By 16, you think you've got the whole birds and the bees thing down, or at least the logistics of it all. But this weird science stuff was all new to me. I remember hearing about a "test tube baby" once and was never able to get the image of some newborn baby stuck in a giant tube out of my head (hey never said I was the brightest crayon in the box). The doctor went on to say, that with the advancements in reproductive science, they were now able to take eggs from one woman, fertilize them with sperm, and insert them into the body of another woman, therefor making the infertile woman, pregnant. I would carry the child. I would deliver the child. Just like any other woman. I locked this little nugget of information away in my brain and planned to process it more when the time came. Well, in the spring of 2009, the time came.

I suppose my mom had a hard time dealing with everything going on with me too, but instead of talking about it with me, she turned to her own mom (a bit ironic don'tcha think?). Now I love my Nana dearly, but the woman is a loose lip sally and loves to gossip. As you know, my goal in life was to make sure NO ONE knew about my secret and I would die of embarrassment and shame should anyone find out. So imagine my surprise, when my favorite cousin pulled me aside (I don't remember exactly when it was) and wanted to talk to me about it. I was mortified and hurt. How could my mother have told everyone?! What a B, doesn't she know how incredibly personal this all was to me?! I felt completely betrayed. Luckily my cousin did most of the talking (as usual), because between the tears of anger and the tears deep rooted sadness of reliving it all, I was barely able to say a word. To this day, a lump forms in my throat when I start to talk about it. She kept it short and sweet. She just wanted to let me know how much she loved me like a sister and would do anything for me. And with that said, she told me that when the time came for Jason and I to start our own family, that she would, without question or hesitation, offer to donate her own eggs. She went on to say that she had talked about it with her husband, and they had absolutely no trepidation about whether it was the right thing to do. Because this is what you do for family. What do you say to that? How do you thank someone who is offering to give you something that you never in a million years thought you would get to have. How to do you thank someone for giving you LIFE, literally LIFE? I cried like a big fat baby, and let me just tell you, I am a self admitted ugly crier, I mean y'all, it's bad! My face gets all red and puffy and splotchy, it's not good.

So fast forward to 2009, Jason and I both had successful careers, bought a house, got a puppy and managed to keep it alive, so we figured maybe it was time to think about adding another member to the family. I struggled a lot with what the right thing to do was. I mean on one hand, clearly God didn't want me to get pregnant, right? But then, why would God put someone like my cousin in my life with her insanely generous offer if that wasn't the road we were meant to take? Would it be weird? Would my extended family be weird about it? I don't recommend trying to figure out God's plan. You won't. You just gotta go with your gut and wing it like the rest of us. So, I called her up and said, hey, wanna make a baby? And so it began. This was the first step in a very long, heartbreaking, roller coaster of emotions, doubt, and tests of faith.

I was incredibly optimistic and naive going into this whole process. It never crossed my mind that it might not even work. In fact, all that was running through my head was what to do if we had twins or triplets, what we would name them, what their rooms would look like, etc. To say that I was putting the cart before the horse would be putting it mildly. In my surge of optimism, the hubs and I started to seek out a church home. I hate to admit it, but I had not attended church regularly since grade school. I knew that we were going to need the big guy on our side for this, so now was as good a time as any to jump on board with church. We found a great church in our town and adopted them as our new family. I only share this with you to set the scene for yet another chance of fate in our lives. After a few weeks of attending the church, we were invited to participate in an adult bible fellowship with other couples in our age group and season of life. Despite having to get up even earlier, we drug ourselves out of bed and decided to go. The class was very informal, lots of chatting and general fellowship, followed by a bible application lesson from a mentor(s) leading the class. What are the chances that on that day, we would sit there as they discussed infertility, miscarriages, and IVF?! I mean, seriously?! I tried my best to hold back the tears, but there was no use, it wasn't long before I was in full blown ugly cry mode. Hi, my name is Candice, and I'm a blubbering hot mess! In a class of maybe 30 people, I was amazed at how many had their own stories and struggles with infertility. If this wasn't a sign from God telling us that this was exactly where we needed to be, I don't know what is. Among the group there was even another young couple who was pregnant with twins after going through 2 rounds of IVF. This new found support system only fueled my hope and faith that this would work for us. I should note that I was still very guarded and did not disclose to anyone in our group that the IVF procedure we were about to undertake was with my cousin's donated eggs. I guess everyone has their secrets, even in the house of God.

And he believed in the LORD; and he counted it to him for righteousness. - Genesis 15:6

I spent countless hours researching the best Reproductive Endocrinologists in my area and finally settled on our doctor. We set up our initial consultation and discussed our game plan. The RE was not too impressed with my cousin's age (34) and highly suggested we consider a different donor, but told us that if we were set on going forward with her, that he would still do it. I wasn't quite sure what to think of that. She had 2 kids, one of which was a 2 year old, and seemed to be perfectly fertile. I was sure it was going to work, so we forged ahead. The whole process was quite involved. I had to get back on birth control pills (oh the irony of it), and we had to align our cycles, and then start a series of self injections. My cousin clearly had the short end of the stick (no pun intended) when it came to the injections. But I also had my fair share. I had to give myself injections in my belly as well as injections in my butt/hip area - with a 3 inch long needle I might add - for up to 12 weeks! My poor bum was so sore and bruised and swollen. It was truly awful. Poor Jason hated every second of it (he was the one doing the injections for me). When I asked my mom as a child where babies came from, I'm pretty sure she didn't mention needle injections, fertility drugs, hormone pills, syringes, and tubes! Alas, it was a means to an end. Finally, July 15th, the day had come where all this pain would be validated. My cousin went in for the egg retrieval procedure. They were able to get 10 eggs (not great, but not horrible), heck in my mind, my mantra was, "all we need is one." Now it was up to fate. We waited 5 days and were left with 3 viable embryos to transfer. They don't ordinarily transfer more than 2, but my doctor decided that since none of the 3 were "high quality", the risk was relatively low that we would end up with multiples.

About to go back

 

Astronaut Jason reporting for duty

two of the 3 embryos

 

We would then have to wait 9 excruciatingly long days to learn whether or not we would be parents. I didn't sleep a wink the night before the big blood test day. It was an anticipation like nothing I had ever experienced before. I gave my blood and sat impatiently by the phone all afternoon. I told them not to call me until after 5 so Jason could be there when we got the call. The phone finally rang. It was the doctor's office. I put it on speaker. The nurse went on to talk numbers, but all I could think was "just get to it already, am I pregnant or not?!" I had a level of 5. To be considered pregnant, you need a level of at least 50. I was not pregnant. It didn't work. I thanked the nurse for the call, hung up the phone and completely lost it. I felt completely deflated. Empty. Worthless. I was a failure. I had failed my cousin. I had failed my husband. I had failed myself. I cannot speak to the feeling of having a miscarriage, but I can't imagine that it would have felt in that moment any less devastating. How was I going to tell everyone? How was I going to tell my cousin? I wanted to crawl into a hole and just die. It was a good thing I was on summer break (I was a teacher) because I was not worth a damn at that point in time. I would just sit in the shower every day crying until the hot water ran out. I don't know why, but for some reason that has always been my go to coping mechanism. As the days and weeks dragged on, I slowly worked my way through the stages of grief and resolved to focus on a way to thank my cousin for her own sacrifices and overwhelming generosity. I knew that absolutely nothing I did could ever repay her for what she did for us, but I knew I had to do something. Being the wine aficionados that they are, it was easy to pick the perfect place for them. We sent her and her husband on a surprise anniversary trip to San Francisco and Napa Valley complete with hotel accommodations and wine tours. I only wish that we could have done more. In the midst of planning their trip and preparing for another school year, we made an appointment with our RE to talk about where to go from here. Jason and I talked about adoption, and that perhaps that was the direction the Lord was leading us in. But after finding out the cost and knowing the emotional risks involved, we decided that we could handle a non-pregnancy better than we could handle having a baby taken away from us. We also knew that this time around things would be very different. I didn't have any sisters or any other cousins or friends coming forward offering up their goods, nor would I expect them to, so we were faced with the daunting task of finding the perfect donor. It is a very surreal thing to scroll through profile after profile and reading people's life resumes and health histories and trying to determine who will be the "mother" of your child. It seemed wrong. This is not the way it's supposed  to be. But I softened my heart and realized that these women were offering up a piece of themselves so that people like me could have a family, so how could something that comes from such a good place be wrong? We finally settled on a donor and moved forward with what we thought would be a for sure, slam dunk of an IVF cycle and our dreams of being parents would finally come to fruition.

 

I'll work on part 4 tomorrow

 

Facing My Fears, The Stigma of Infertility

Part 2

It's funny, you know, how fate works in your life. How one seemingly insignificant decision can lead to several other seemingly insignificant decisions, and before you know it, fate has put you in a place that you otherwise never would have been. Meeting someone that you never would have met.

It was Spring Break 2001. I was really looking forward to hitting up some South Padre Island action with my roommate and some of her hometown friends. Plans were made, my shifts at work were covered, I had a couple bucks saved up, and was ready to par-tay! At the last minute, literally an hour before we were supposed to head out, my roommate and 2 other friends bailed. That left me and another guy that I barely knew, driving down to SPI to meet up with about 8 other GUYS for spring break. I thought, why not, what the hell, what else am I going to do, sit around here all week?! So we headed out. It was about a 5 hour drive, and this guy was kinda weird, so of course, I pretended to sleep the whole time. Please remember, this was circa 2001, a la before the invention of the iphone. We all met up at the super classy Ramada (I think, I could be wrong) in the dirty south aka Brownsville. Brownsville was the spring break haven for co-eds not quite of legal drinking age such as myself, as it was steps away from the Mexican border and Matamoros. I won't bore you with all the details of the trip (mainly because I don't remember half of them!), but I will tell you that among the 9 guys there, one of them stood out. His name was Jason, and he was soooo cute, and so nice, and just as clumsy as I was. Between the two of us, we probably dropped on average 10 bottles of Bud Light on the floor every.single.night. We laughed, we made out, we exchanged numbers, and we went our separate ways. He went back to A&M and I went back to SWT. I knew he was a keeper when I mailed him some pics I had taken from the trip and he mailed back a sweet card with a $20 in it to reimburse me, I mean come on, who does that?! We emailed each other and called occasionally, but we both knew that neither of us wanted anything serious, especially not with an hour and half between us - that's just crazy talk for young fun-lovin college kids! I saw him again in May when he invited me to a concert. Let me tell you, I started to fall... and hard. But still, I knew the long distance thing wouldn't work, so we kept doing what we had been doing. Kind of a "when I'm with you, I'm with you" deal. And it worked for us. I dated other guys here and there and he dated other girls too, but in the back of my mind, I was comparing every single guy to Jason, and not a single one was living up to him. Every couple months we would see each other, and each time my love for him grew stronger and stronger. Finally, in December 2003 I graduated from college. He and another buddy came down for the occasion and he met my parents for the first time. Of course, they loved him too. About a week later, we left with my cousin on a ski trip to Colorado. It was there, in a bar, at midnight, on New Year's Eve, that he cradled my face in his hands, looked deep into my eyes, and told me he loved me. Swoon! My heart exploded! I knew he meant it too and I could finally tell him that I loved him too! We may or may not have moved mountains that night, if you know what I mean :) Sadly, the day after returning from our awesome trip, I was set to leave for Costa Rica for the entire month of January to study abroad for my final college class. Can you think of a better way to go out? Yeah I thought not! We emailed daily, and I drew corny hearts in the sand that said "wish you were here", but even though I did miss him, that was the most AMAZING and unforgettable trip/experience of my life and I wouldn't trade it for the world! I know this has nothing to do with infertility, but I thought you might want to know a little back story.

I returned the day before Super Bowl Sunday. The thought of telling Jason my secrets were weighing heavy on my heart. Would this change the way he felt about me? Would he want to break up? Would I ever find someone else as great as him? The whole thing made me nauseous. Finally, one night I built up the courage to tell him. I had the conversation a million times in my head, but when I opened my mouth to speak, a giant lump formed in the back of my throat, forcing only squeaks of words to come out and tears to begin welling up from behind my eyes. How was I going to get through this? I can only imagine what he must of been thinking. Very slowly, and through ALOT of crying and sobbing, I told him my story. I could see his face fall, and sadness take over, and I thought, oh great here it comes, we're over. But to my surprise, the sadness wasn't over finding that I wasn't who he thought I was, it was genuine sadness for me, and that I was hurting. He was so upset that here was a problem that was affecting me in such a negative way, and there was nothing he could do to fix it. He just held me and rocked me back in forth telling me over and over how much he loved me and that he could care less whether or not I could have children, and that he even wanted to adopt anyway. How could I be this lucky? Is he for real right now? Did God really make this amazing specimen of a man just for me? Yes ladies. Yes he did. After that, I felt an enormous weight lifted and in its place, was that airy, bounce in your step, can't stop smiling kind of romantic love that you see in the movies.

In June of 2007 we were married at dusk, on the side of the lake, in downtown Austin, with all of our friends and family surround us and we were ready to take on this life together, and all the challenges that we knew were ahead of us. During the ceremony, the pastor made a plea to our friends and family, that they too would be a part of our marriage, and help support us and encourage us, and in unison, they all said "We Do" that day too. Now some may have just said it as a courtesy, some probably thought they meant it at the time, but some, some of them really took this vow to heart and would later become such an incredible blessing to Jason and I, and an inspiration for how generous and loving our Lord intended us to be. Part 3 coming soon.

I Am The Face of Infertility, And This Is My Story...

Part 1

Infertility
: not fertile or productive : incapable of or unsuccessful in achieving pregnancy : barren

I am the face of infertility and this is my story.

I grew up in a small Texas town, the oldest of 3, and the only girl. There was nothing particularly special about me, I was just your typical kid growing up, played soccer, did dance, tormented my brothers, had sleep overs with my girlfriends prank calling boys we had crushes on, calling radio stations begging them to play our favorite songs so we could tape them on our cassettes while we sat around playing Girl Talk and reading Bop and YM magazines. I was like everyone else. Until one day I wasn't.

Last day of 5th grade

 



Somewhere around 6th or 7th grade I started to become keenly aware that one by one, all of my friends were getting visits from lovely mother nature. We didn't hold meetings to discuss who had and who had not and when and where or any of the semantics of it all, no it was very casual, like in the girl's locker room after PE sitting in the dark playing "light as a feather, stiff as a board", and someone would whisper, "hey do you have a pad?" Or, when switching classes, the quiet question in the ear of "do I have anything on my butt?" Slowly, I began to notice more and more that I was somehow being left out of this secret club, this female alliance. It appeared that this right of passage had come to my door step but left before I could answer the door. On the outside, I looked like everyone else, but on the inside, a worry began to fester. I often wonder what my mom must have been thinking. Was she worried? In denial? In blissful ignorance?

Middle school is an evil, evil place. Truly, you are lucky to get out unscathed. So of course, the thought of being "different" in any way from your peers strikes terror in your heart, so you do what ever is necessary to keep the status quo, and for me, that meant stealing my mom's panty liners and tampons and stashing them in my backpack, lest my inadequacies be detected by my friends. This became my shield, my protection, my lie. With these items in hand, no one would ever know what was really going on, or rather what was really NOT going on, I mean could you even imagine the ridicule? The endless teasing? No, no. Not me. I was prepared. It even got to the point that I would ask for feminine products from my friends, just to be sure that there would be no suspicion on their end. It was so pathetic. Can we all agree, girlfriend needed some therapy?!

Not so funny story... I distinctly remember one April Fools Day. I was 12 years old. Maybe it was wishful thinking, maybe it was just a dumb idea in poor taste, but I took it upon myself to put a couple drops of red food coloring the toilet and call my mom into the bath room (I told you it was dumb). I will never forget the relief and almost joy that was on her face as she started to talk to me about menstruation and blah blah blah. I think that's when I knew, when I really knew that something might really be wrong. It would still be a few years though before I would find out just how right my gut was that day.

Middle school passed. I survived. The transition from middle to high school was really a non-event. You see, in our small town, grades 6-12 were all in the same school, so there was no big ceremonial "welcome to high school" hoopla about starting 9th grade, other than having the power to ridicule the 8th graders and pretend that the few months that separated our birthdays somehow meant that we were FAR superior and more mature than they would ever be. Clearly. But it was another year older for me, and the idea of me being a "late bloomer" in regards to my period or lack there of, was quickly losing ground with each passing day. Finally in my sophomore year, at 15, my mother broke down and made an appointment for me with our family physician. I should note that I was seriously NEVER sick growing up. In fact, I didn't miss a day of school until the 5th grade, and that was to attend a funeral. Then I didn't miss a day of school until I got a car, and realized I totally could. I digress. So, small town doctor determined that I was just athletic and that was probably the reason for the delay and that we shouldn't worry just yet. After all, I seemed to have been developing in every other way just fine, so we should just give it a little more time. Let me just clarify here, I played volleyball, basketball, and ran track, ranking somewhere between average and less than average at all of the aforementioned sports. I was in no way going balls out with my dedication to sports. I played sports because my friends did and because it was fun to be part of a team. And let's face it, the pep rallies were awesome AND you got to leave school early, hang out on a bus with your friends, French braid each others hair and talk about boys on the way to play a game - um yeah, sign me up. Nonetheless, my mom bought the "possibly anemic, over trained athlete" story. Again, perhaps it was hopeful denial?

We went back a couple months later, and I was referred to a gynecologist. Needless to say, I didn't dare tell any of my friends what was going on, and I'm fairly sure I was the only one of my friends going to a gyno at 15! You may not believe me, but very few people in my grade were having sex, and trust me when I tell you, it was a small town, and everyone knew what everyone  else was doing. Except my secret. No one knew that. Again, I digress. So, we go to the gyno, and after the initial exam, he, yes HE (I could write an entire post on this little nugget alone - I mean seriously mom, a guy gyno, for your 15 year old daughter who at that point had never had a "serious" boyfriend - sheesh!) went on to suggest that an internal exam with a vaginal sonogram would need to be performed. Ahem, excuse me? You're telling me you want to put that thing, in there, when absolutely NOTHING has every crossed that sacred threshold? Um yeah, good luck with ALL THAT. So yeah... he tried... I cried... and it was like Fort Knox down there... ain't nobody gettin' in if you know what I mean. So, unless they sedate me, this little experiment was not likely going to happen. So, off we go to yet another specialist. This time we enter the wonderful world of Reproductive Endocrinology.

Um yeah, NO WAY IN HELL!

 

After the traumatic experience with the other doctors, it did put me a little bit at ease to learn that this doctor was actually a woman. She was very nice and had a great bedside manner, and took the time to talk with me and my mom, in her office, with my clothes ON for a change, before she did any kind of examination. She explained everything that she wanted to do, asked me if I had any questions, fears or concerns, and was so patient with me and calming my nerves. I felt so much better this time around. I'm pretty sure God put that doctor in my life exactly when I needed her. So, she does the vaginal ultrasound, explaining what she is looking at the whole time, but not really giving us any info good or bad about what she is seeing. I get cleaned up and dressed and we head back into her office to discuss her findings. This day, this hour, these minutes, will live in my brain for the rest of my life. This was the day I sat in a chair, holding my mom's hand, looking into the eyes of my doctor, as she told me that I would never be able to have children. In a split second, in all of my teenage immaturity, my heart broke and mourned for all the children that I had always wanted to have someday but now never would. In a moment, my world came crashing down. From that point on, everything she said sorta sounded like the teacher on the Peanuts cartoons. Nothing was being processed. All I could think about was, why me? Was this because of the April Fools prank? Is God punishing me? Why would God make me if I wasn't able to perform the one thing that makes a woman a woman? Who is ever going to want to be with someone who isn't even a "real" woman, who can't even bear children? Who would ever want to marry someone like me?

I was 6 years older than my younger brother and 9 years older than my youngest brother, so I grew up helping my mom in the mothering/care taker role and I loved it. I was the type of person that when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, my first answer was always, a mom. Through countless games of MASH, I knew that I was going to have at least 4 kids, heck I even had all their names picked out. The floor had literally dropped out from under me. I was diagnosed with primary amenorrhea and unexplained premature ovarian failure. Basically, all my eggs were gone. Disappeared into space. Just a basic anatomy lesson here, you can't ovulate/menstruate if you have no eggs. You also cannot have a baby if you have no eggs. No amount of IVF in the world can recreate or reproduce an egg once it's gone. In the womb, your DNA is formed with the exact number of eggs that you will have in your whole lifetime, and we aren't sure if I ever had any, why I developed completely normally without them, or where they went if I did indeed have any to begin with. It's all a mystery that only the big guy upstairs can answer. I have never met/read about anyone that has exactly what I do. There have been many that have similar stories, but every one's infertility story is a little different.

My next course of action was to start taking some hormone pills to keep my levels in the range that they should be for a girl my age (so as not to lose the function of my uterus). A few days later, I was elated when I actually started cramping and started my period for the first time ever. I guess a tiny piece of hope was still alive in my brain which let me actually think for a minute that that meant that maybe something had changed and I could actually have kids, you know cause period=babies. Apparently, in all my sobbing at the doctor, I had missed the little tid bit of info when she discussed manipulating my body into menstruating - that it wasn't real. Crushed again. Shortly after all of this, I turned 16. I was the only one I knew of that was on birth control. That would be my new secret. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel some weird sense of pride that I had finally joined the ranks of all the other girls that get to bitch about their periods - and really mean it. Looking back, I have no idea why my mom did not get me into some kind of counseling. How can you expect a 15/16 year old girl to go through all of that and have the emotional maturity to process it when grown women can't even process this kind of news? I guess she just didn't know what to do, and thought if she did nothing it would just go away, or I would just figure it out - who knows. All I know is, I carried a darkness, an extreme sadness inside me for a very, very long time. This whole experience affected me on such a deep and emotional level and it manifested itself into some major feelings of inadequacy, low self-esteem and self-worth. I was too afraid to get into any serious relationships until I was 19. I was too afraid to tell anyone, even my best friend. Who could possible understand - I was an island. The only way I knew to get passed these feelings were to completely suppress them and not think about them. Ever. Which was easy to do when you have no one to talk about it with. And that's where those emotions and fears and sadness hid for several years. Until I met Jason in the spring of 2001.

Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7