After waiting with bated breath over the past few days, I am so happy to share that our retrieval will happen this Thursday! Our donor is healthy and will do her trigger shot tonight! Although we may get fewer eggs than we originally thought, she still has an extraordinary amount of follicles that have grown beautifully over the weekend. We are in good shape! As we plan to do PGD, this means our 6-day fresh transfer will be next Wednesday February 26th. A week tomorrow!
February 26th is a date that is forever seared into my brain, and one I share with a few of my comrades. It’s the first anniversary of the first fateful ultrasound. It’s How It All Began. This year it marks the closing of a sad year-long chapter and, I hope, the beginning of a much happier one in my reproductive story. It was bound to be an uneasy day for me, so the thought of having a transfer that day initially spooked me. How can I expect a positive result on such a sad day?
But then I thought of Dellaquella, who once wrote, Then I had a stronger thought. This is my lost one speaking to me. Giving me a wink. I feel like I am caught up in something bigger than just me. That the universe is speaking to me.
Last week at the beach, DH and I were talking about names for our children — hope’s face softly peeping — when I saw another Jizo pebble, black and smooth, standing upright in the sand. I left it untouched, as I had the feeling there would be another sign. As we left the beach, the wet sand strewn with piles of seaweed gave way to the kind of loose sand that doesn’t retain the shape of those who walk it; and yet, as I walked, I saw a second pair of footprints, tiny feet, running alongside my path.
I had the thought then that my Bean was walking alongside me. Learning that our transfer date will be the 26th is like his being returned to me. It’s a crazy notion, I know, but it makes me relax and think, We can do this.
An IVF due date calculator has informed me that if I conceive next week (next week!) then my due date will be November 14th, another significant date in my life: the anniversary of the death of my beloved great-grandmother, Nanny. The woman I loved as much as, possibly more than, my parents and whose genetic tie to my children I was heartbroken to have severed.
The past year has been so hard, and one of the thoughts that has strangely (for I have never believed in God or been religious) brought me much comfort is this: if there is an afterlife, I imagine Nanny and Bean are together, loving each other, watching over me somehow.
And here they are, together, somehow caught up in two arbitrary dates triangulated by me and my love for and loss of them both. The coincidence is shocking to me.
More powerful than learning my grandmother was dying in hospital as I was en route to my first ever RE appointment.
More amazing than learning the sum of money she and my grandfather bequeathed me would cover DEIVF to the dollar.
More stunning than the moment in London when my baby sister announced she wanted to be an egg donor and did I know anything about it, whereupon I turned my eyes skyward and thought I get it, universe. This is your way of telling me I will need an egg donor… this, a whole week before I even learned I have a genetic disorder.
Add all these things up together, and my atheist foundations are somewhat shaken. This does not make me believe in God or any higher power, or even that things happen for a reason; yet I acknowledge that I am caught up in magical thinking. Simply, I choose to believe that these are very good signs indeed.
Because all along, there have been signs that this is the path I must travel. The moment I stopped fighting and gave in to the struggle, I have been carried aloft the waves and watched as the way has been illuminated, step by step. Come this way, this way… I am doing everything I can to mentally and physically prepare for pregnancy. Because, If not this cycle, then the next.
I am being careful not to count my chickens before they have hatched, but tonight I am filled with relief, cautiously optimistic, nervous, and excited. Tonight, I am filled with the real hope that someday soon I will be a mom.