Picking up the pieces

Picking up the pieces...I'm trying.

This week has been excruciating to say the least. The amount of disappointment and heartache I feel is almost unbearable at times.

When I found out that we were pregnant I told myself not to get so excited. When I told my family that the IVF was successful, I sent them a text saying, "no gifts, no cards, no celebrating, no congratulations...we're not there yet." Everyone followed my rules, except for me.

I told myself I wouldn't get ahead of myself, but then I picked out the crib...and then I started looking for names...and then I found a stroller I wanted...and then I planned the nursery out in my head....but worse, I thought of how we would tell Olivia that she was going to be a big sister- and that's the part that I just can't get over.

Everyone keeps offering to take Olivia out and occupy her so we can have a moment to ourselves. The truth is, she's the only reason I get out of bed every day.

I've always felt that we got extremely lucky with Olivia. When we were pregnant with her, we didn't know what the outcome would be. The odds were against her yet every week she got stronger and stronger and she fought harder and harder. I strongly believe that we were never suppose to have Olivia. She is a true miracle who just never gave up.

My brother sent me a message saying he admired my strength and that in time, the pain will start to ease up. There are moments in each day that I feel weak, but then I look at Olivia and think- no one had to be stronger than her. No one had to fight harder. It wasn't me, it was her. So when I feel weak, and when the pain takes my breath away, I look at this child and I tell myself to do it for her.

I use to pray every day. I'm not a big church goer, but for as long as I can remember, I've always prayed every single day. These days, I find myself so confused and bitter that I can't find myself to pray anymore. I have nothing nice to say. I've begged and pleaded, I've cried on my knees, I've made promises, I've proved myself to be a great mom- but that doesn't seem to count for anything. I often wonder if there is anyone up there listening to me. Can they hear me when I sit in the shower screaming so loud I get an instant headache? Maybe praying is silly- maybe I'm talking to no one. If there is a God, why would he allow pain to exist?  It's something I wonder every day.

Everyone has been extremely supportive this past week. Even though I haven't been answering my phone, I've listened to every message, I've read every text, email and card. All of the well wishes and support, the flowers, the hot meals, the visits...it means more than you'll ever know. If there is one thing that this whole experience has taught me- it's that we have an army of support. And for that, I am forever grateful.

Dr. Binor called me last Friday to check on me. We had a conversation that I'll keep private, but it was sincere and heartfelt and for as much as we are hurting, I know he is hurting as well. I mentioned that when we started up this past round, I told myself and everyone else that this was it for us. I can't for the life of me imagine going through this again. We've had one loss too many and it's getting harder to accept and harder to move on. He told me to pause those thoughts, grieve and then make that decision once I have my head together. I agreed.

The unknown is hard for me to deal with. I can say life isn't fair, but I have Olivia and that's more than what most people have. I can't for the life of me figure out why we're not meant to have more kids and why Olivia can't have a sibling. It kills me, but deep down I know that it's something I need to come to terms with. As hard as this miscarriage took me down, it hurts more knowing that I can't give Olivia what she wants most in life.

I was laying on the couch the other day and Olivia decided to lay with me. We worked on a project that was due the next day and she held my hand and told me, "We did such a good job. Mama and monk! Best team ever!" (monk is short for monkey)

I got so lucky Olivia Hope. You gave me the gift of being a Mom and I will forever be grateful for the team that we've become. What ever the future brings, we will be together.

Heartbroken

This is the hardest blog post I think I've ever had to write. I'm finding it hard to find the words. I have so many thoughts, but I can't figure out how to process those thoughts.

6 weeks, 5 days.

We made it 6 weeks, 5 days...and that's all God would give us.

On Thursday, January 18 I suffered a miscarriage.

On Wednesday I started to bleed right before my weekly appointment with Dr. Binor. Sherri did an ultrasound and assured me that everything was alright. Cervix was closed, lining was thick, baby was sitting cozy and heartbeat...yes, there was a heartbeat.

"Listen to this, Courtney"

She turned up the volume and let me take in the sounds of that beautiful heartbeat.

"I know you're scared, but everything looks great. Go home, relax and enjoy"

I went home, laid down, but I couldn't relax. Something wasn't right.

Come Thursday I started feeling a bloated pressure that I've felt one too many times. I couldn't shake the feeling because I knew, deep down, what was to come our way and sure enough, Thursday evening the bleeding increased.

Don and I went to the emergency room and needless to say we were both a wreck. When I get nervous I have full blown conversations with myself in my head. I kept trying to assure myself that there was a heartbeat and that this is going to be a rollercoaster of a pregnancy which in the end would deliver a trouble maker of a baby. My guess was that it was a boy.

After my initial exam in the ER, the doctor had a more positive tone to his voice.

"Cervix is closed Courtney. This is a great sign. Let's get you in for an ultrasound and see what that shows."

Cervix closed. Thank God! Just what I thought, a bad baby.

The wait was too long for a couple who were struggling to cling on to hope. We tried making small talk to pass the time and every once in a while one of us would make the other laugh. After what seemed like forever, they finally wheeled us into ultrasound.

I always try my best to read the ultrasound tech's face. I look for any expression that could possibly give a clue as to what they see, but this ultrasound tech was wearing her poker face and I couldn't get a good read as to what chance we had. I kept looking at Don who was studying the monitor profusely.  No one was making any faces and no one would look at me. The dark room was filled with silence and it killed me.

This ultrasound took longer than most that I've had. Once the tech left I looked at Don who said, "I saw something. I saw the baby." 

Oh, thank God. I'm two days shy of being 7 weeks pregnant and have already had 3 decent heart attacks thanks to this bad baby!

Once we got back into the room we waited for the doctor to confirm what Don saw. We were already there for a few hours and I was getting more than antsy. At this point I was shaking off the cramps and bleeding and was ready to get home to bed.

In walks the doctor.

"I'm sorry, I was hopeful. Baby doesn't have a heartbeat and you're still a couple days from miscarrying." 

He knocked the wind out of me. I guess I knew all along, but didn't want to believe it.

Don hurried the nurse up to get me discharged. I was hanging on by a thread and he knew I was about to flip. The nurse said sorry countless times and gave me a pitiful, poor soul smile that I wanted to slap off her face. She handed me the ultrasound results and discharge papers and told me to follow up with my OB.

As we were walking through the ER I started to read the ultrasound results.

"Twin pregnancy."
"Baby A- no heartbeat"
"Baby B- no heartbeat"

I stopped in my tracks and shouted "twins" to Don.

This is how we find out that we had twins? What. The. F*ck.

Unfair is not the right word. It's putting it too lightly and I have yet to find the words to explain the devastation, hurt, anger, hopeless, heartbroken feeling that I feel all at once. There's no word.

I met with my OB the next day and we decided that a D&C would be best. The cervix was still closed and we were days away from the actual miscarriage. My OB thought it would be best that we get the D&C so we can grieve and not prolong the whole process. I agreed and went in yesterday for the procedure.

As they wheeled me into the OR I started to cry. My OB tried making small talk and said, "tell everyone your daughter's name"

"Olivia."
"What's her middle name?"
"Hope."

A nurse, who I've never met before, smiled and said, "well isn't that a fitting middle name"
and just like that, I went to sleep.

The past few days have been brutal. As soon as I think I can catch my breath I just about lose it again. All I want to do is sleep, but I find myself wishing that once I wake up I realize that it's all been a nightmare and that all will be alright again.

My OB told me that once a healthy heartbeat has been detected, 94% of pregnancies turn out successful. Of course, I fall into that 6%.

The pain is still very much raw. This is the 6th baby we've lost and let me tell you, it doesn't get any easier.

My heart is broken and I don't know how to make the pain go away.

6 weeks, 5 days...and I loved every second.

Baby Steps

December 20th we transferred two viable, healthy embryo's. It was our 7th IVF attempt to have another child. It's brought bumps in the road that we didn't expect, countless tears, too many injections to count, multiple bruising, swelling, nausea and the list goes on. We've prayed. On our knees, in our cars, in the shower, before bed. We begged and pleaded. Our faith has been tested since this process first began. We crumbled. More than once. But we always got back up. We did bed rest and we waited the long 2 weeks that IVF couples have to wait before learning their fate. We counted days, hours, minutes, seconds.

We won.

On January 2nd we got our positive.

Before the celebration begins, we have a ways to go. You see, we've been here before. We are thrilled to overcome the first major hurdle, but we still have some work to do. Like Dr. Binor said, we are cautiously optimistic. HCG, estrogen and progesterone numbers look good. Everything is where it needs to be.

We have so many people who follow our story that it was hard to keep this one to ourselves. So, even though we want to scream from the rooftops...it's not time...not yet. This pregnancy has already brought some minor complications. Last week I was in the hospital with pancreatitis and ulcers due to the meds I'm on. Yesterday, I was in panic mode due to moderate bleeding. Fortunately the bleeding is coming from outside of the cervix- which means it's most likely due to the medication as well.

IVF does a number to your body. My body has a mind of it's own and in less than a week, I've been once again reminded that this won't be a cakewalk. There's part of me that feels a little frustration that I can't just take our positive for granted and enjoy the ride. Everything has been a battle for us. We will take this on together as a family and deal with anything and everything that comes our way.

Until we get the green light, we will not be telling Olivia. God forbid things don't go our way, I wouldn't want to hurt her heart.

So, as of today we are 5 weeks and 3 days pregnant. We are thankful and blessed, but we're holding our breath.

When we were pregnant with Olivia, Dr. Alexander would set short term goals for us. Every time she would set a goal I would well up and think it was impossible for us to reach the goal. She always smiled and would say, "baby steps".

So, that's what we are doing. Trying to slowly get through each day, setting short term goals. The green light feels like forever away, but I know we'll get there.

Baby steps.

And now we wait...

I was overwhelmed waking up this morning to so many kind messages. Everyone's hopes and prayers have been heard, we are truly blessed. 

Before leaving for our appointment, I put a little curl in my hair and applied a bit of lip gloss. I thought it was appropriate to look my best before getting knocked up. 

Walking in this morning I know we weren't alone. We have an army of support and for that, I am forever grateful. 

Dr. Binor will only transfer two embryos. I have 4 left. 1 embryo is from Olivia's batch back in 2011. The other 3 are from 2014. The way the embryos have been stored/frozen, changed between 2011 and 2014 so Dr. Binor focused his efforts on the 2014 embryos. Unfortunately, one embryo did not survive the thawing process, but the other two did. Dr. Binor says they look beautiful and he was happy with the direction we are headed in. 

"Let's get you pregnant. It's going to be a Merry Christmas."

"Yes, let's."

I appreciated his confidence. For the first time in several years, I'm just as confident.

Dr. Binor wheeled me into the OR and I was greeted by several happy, hopeful faces- Sherri, being one of them. Sherri performs all of my in office ultrasounds and she assists in the embryo transfers. She's been with me since day 1. 

I was a little quiet while being wheeled in. Overwhelmed, excited, nervous...but at peace. Whatever is suppose to happen will happen, but I have a good feeling and I felt like I was exactly where I was suppose to be. 

I felt a little pat on my head and heard a whisper from behind, "This is your time. Are you ready?" It was Sherri. 

"Ready." 

Roll call! The embriologist calls for a roll call before each transfer. 

"Courtney Cummings. DOB. Embryo Transfer. We have two embryos today. Sherri, are you ready?"

"Ready."

"Courtney, are you ready?"

"Yep."

"Dr. Binor, are you ready?"

"Let's get her cooking! Christmas baby here we come!"

The procedure itself is pretty quick. Sherri guides Dr. Binor via ultrasound and they discuss exactly where they are going to transfer the embryos. They point to the screen-

"Keep your eyes right here, Courtney..."

I can't help but tear up. 

"Here you go Courtney, here they coooommmmmeeee!"

A light appears on the screen. There they are. Our hopes, our dreams, our prayers, our heart. 

I look down at Dr. Binor and he looks at me. We lock eyes and smile. He gives me a wink and I stare at him with tears rolling down my face. As much as this is my and Don's moment, it's his too.

The embryologist confirms that the tube is empty and just like that, the two week wait begins. 

Bed rest for a couple days, increasing meds starting tomorrow and bloodwork the day after Christmas. 

Two weeks is a long time, especially for a person who doesn't pride herself on patience. 

The hardest part about infertility is that it's all out of our hands. We have zero control over the outcome.  So please, say a little prayer for us. 

Come on little embryos...make some magic. We've been waiting for you. 

It's go time...

After more than a two year break our time is finally here.

It's go time!

Level's are up, lining is beautiful and our little frozen embryo's are just about to come to life!

Dr. Binor is back to work, healthy and has agreed to take on a limited number of cases, ours of course being one of them.

The medication is getting to me more than it has in the past. The tears come and go, but I've tried keeping myself busy while getting ready for Christmas. I've always loved the holidays, but ever since becoming a Mom, it's just more special. Being surrounded by family and playing Santa's helper is just what the doctor ordered to get us through this round, the final round.

I say it's the final round, because this is the round that will work- it has to. I say the final round because I don't see us going through another multiple rounds. I say the final round because we've worked so hard to get to where we are today that this is our round, I know it.

We have been through multiple frozen embryo transfers and unfortunately we haven't had the outcome we had hoped and prayed for. Ectopic and miscarriage are the only close to pregnancies we've faced after doing a FET. Everyone who knows me and reads my blog knows that I am partial to fresh cycles. My Olivia was a fresh cycle so I guess I'm a little biased.

I try not to play doctor and I trust Dr. Binor more than most people in my life. He says it could work. He says it should work. So we will try. I don't have many frozen embryo's left and I only have one fresh cycle left in a lifetime (per insurance)....so I'm literally putting all of my eggs in this basket ;) and I am asking everyone who has joined us on this journey to pray for our little embryos. We need them to survive the thawing process and we need them to be healthy, viable embryos in order for the transfer to happen.

I am trying to stay focused and not feel the pressure, but it often feels that I am walking around with a load of bricks on my shoulders.

For people who are going through infertility, this is the first and last thing they think about every single day. We've paid our dues and we're great parents...I just can't imagine this not going our way.

We thank everyone who has joined us on this journey. Come Wednesday, when we go in for our transfer, I know we aren't alone. The constant calls, texts and emails remind us of how lucky we are. No matter what happens this round, we thank you all for the constant love and support. It means more than you'll ever know.

xoxo

Please pray.

5 days before we were to have our FET (frozen embryo transfer) I received a message that Dr. Binor was ill and we would need to cancel.

Ill???? He's got 5 days to take some medicine and get better! What the hell is going on!?

The message didn't add up. He wouldn't cancel if he were fighting the flu. This man lives and breathes babies and he was just excited as we were for our FET. 

I called Nora, my case nurse. She's my favorite and she's been my nurse since before we had Olivia. I could hear the worry mixed with uncertainty in her voice and my heart sank. 

"We don't have any answers at this point. I am hoping and praying for the best, but we don't know if and when he will be back. Hold off if you can. If you can't wait we can make a recommendation for you to see another specialist."

What. The. F***. . 

As disappointed as I was that we had to cancel our FET- the amount of disappointment couldn't measure the amount of heartbreak I felt for Dr. Binor. I've lost sleep wondering how he's doing and what could be wrong. I've called his office every couple days for an update. Thanks to HIPPA I haven't been able to find out much, but I am hoping and praying for a positive outcome. 

Family and friends have been quick to tell me to find a new doctor. I understand where they are coming from, but it's more complicated than just finding a new doc. My frozen embryos are with Dr. Binor's lab. To transfer embryo's costs a pretty penny and I only have 3 left. 2 embryo's are transferred every FET. Per insurance, I only have ONE egg retrieval left in a LIFETIME. One. That's it. If and when we make our move- we have to be 1000000% certain that we pick the right doctor. There's no room for error here and to be honest, I'm not ready to make a move. 

When I was admitted to the hospital with OHSS, Dr. Binor showed up in his pajamas. He spoke to every single doctor and nurse before they were aloud to step foot in my room. 

When we went in for the reduction consultation, I left the room to call Dr. Binor. I needed to know what to do and he helped us make that decision. 

When I bled throughout the first several months of my pregnancy, Dr. Binor gave us his home phone number. He took our calls every hour of the night and gave us comfort in our times of panic. 

He spoke to every doctor, specialist, technician on our behalf. He tracked our pregnancy and celebrated the day Olivia was born. He throws birthday parties for all of his miracle babies. 

He's more than just a doctor. He's a miracle worker. He's a kind, gentle, funny human being and because of that man, we have our Olivia.

We won't be making a decision until we speak with Dr. Binor. 

Please pray. Pray as hard as you can. Keep this man in your prayers because he would do the same for you. He did for me. 

During our last consultation with Dr. Binor I told him I was afraid he was going to go somewhere or retire.  He smiled and looked me right in the eyes, "not until I get you pregnant."

Ok Dr Binor, I'm ready when you are. 

Bring. It. On.

"How's Olivia!?"

It's been two years since I've seen her and she still remembers my Olivia's name. I'm surprised, but not surprised at the same time. She cares. She genuinely cares.

Her name is Nora and she's been my nurse since the first time I started seeing Dr. Binor. She is short like myself, always has a smile on her face and an enthusiastic tone in her voice. She's rooted us on from day one and has shared our joy when there's been joy and disappointment when there's been disappointment. She's genuine and she's kind and she means a lot to me.

"She just started Kindergarten. She's getting big. Too big."

"That flew by, didn't it?"

"Too much."

We caught up and spoke about what's been going on these past couple of years.

"So, you're ready to go at it again?"

"I'm not getting any younger. Are you going to be my nurse still?"

Dr. Binor assigns one sole nurse to every case. They're all great, but Nora has been with me from the start.

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Is that ok with you?"

"I just wasn't sure if you still wanted me. I think I killed your success rate."

We laughed- pitifully. She gave me the wink she always gives me and tells me it's going to work. "It" meaning IVF.

Don and I quietly waited for Dr. Binor. We haven't seen him in two years. It was time. We waited long enough and it was time to have this conversation. As nervous and as anxious as we were, our nerves left us as soon as that man walked through the door.

Dr. Binor is the type of doctor that knows his patients chart inside and out. Because our case is unique and one for the books, we have a special connection with this man. As often as we think of him, he thinks of us just as much.

We talked about what's been going on health wise these past two years. Though I don't have an official diagnosis, I have been cleared to move forward with IVF by my neurologist. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a tiny bit hesitant to try again. For one, I'm older. Two, Olivia is getting older and the thought of starting all over is a bit daunting. Three, I don't have an official diagnosis and my doctors aren't sure what a pregnancy will do to my body. It may make my symptoms worse, it may not. We just don't know.

"Go have your babies, you're not getting any younger"- is how my neurologist gave me the green light. We will continue with consultations and safe testing should I become pregnant, but the good news is I am now cleared to try again. It's been a long two years- but it was a needed break- even if I didn't have a choice.

Don and I went back to Dr. Binor when Olivia was 10 months old. We tried for two straight years. 7 embryo transfers and like my pregnancy with Olivia, those transfers brought us more heartache and drama than we ever could have imagined. Two years took a toll on me emotionally. More than I ever realized. I remember laying in my bed with my brother after our last attempt failed and he suggested I take a break- to get myself back together and to live life again. I couldn't understand why he told me to get myself back together- I was together! Or so I thought.

After that final attempt I had really lost all hope. Don or his mom would give me my injections and I would lay there crying. They had to go through so much scar tissue that the pain became unbearable. My heart hurt every day and I would coast through the day feeling numb to the bone.

As much as my medical issues have come in the way of our future, a break was necessary. I know this.

Dr. Binor talked about the month long cycle evaluation. It will consist of blood work, ultrasounds and a biopsy to rule out chronic endometritis. Once the evaluation is complete we will have a more concrete plan and move forward with the next round.

Fresh or frozen? It's always brought up when we talk. Dr. Binor is very much against any couple "banking" embryos. Why? Because they are living human embryos. Once a couple calls it quits or completes their family, they discard the embryos. I agree, I don't like the idea of banking embryos however, I've had one successful live birth and that live birth came from a fresh cycle. I've always been partial to fresh cycles. When it comes to frozen we technically have 5 embryos however, we have 3 that he believes will give us the best chance. I don't have another two years worth of trying to conceive. I have a couple tries left before closing this chapter of our lives.

"What is the success rate, for a typical patient?"

"You're not a typical patient. If you were we wouldn't be sitting here right now. It should have already worked for you."

He's right, I'm not typical. My body throws a curve ball every chance it gets.

"You've given me quite the headache. What is it about your system that is preventing this from happening?"

I've asked myself this question every single day, multiple times a day. When I can't come up with an answer I simply shout out, "what the f*ck!?"

"How is she?"

"She" meaning the one.

"She's great. She's 5 now. She just started kindergarten."

"Show me a picture."

I had my phone ready to show her off. If he wanted he could flip through all 5,395 pictures I have saved on my phone (my phone is only a year old).

"Wow, is she something. She's beautiful."

I teared up and didn't have to look to see what Don's reaction was because I saw him wiping the tears from his eyes. We are so proud of her- and we are so thankful for him.

"She was the best of the best. Really, she was the best of the best." 

We both nodded. There were four of them, but she was the strongest. They were all the best, but she is the one who made it- and at times, she really probably shouldn't have.

I always say that my Olivia is a miracle, but most people just nod and smile without really getting how much of a miracle that she really is. Dr. Binor, he gets it. 1000% he gets it.

"I want you to not cry and give this baby the best chance to make it. Every week, the chances will increase." Those are the words he told me when we had to say our goodbyes to baby A and B. She was our Baby C. She was the best chance we had- to becoming parents.

She defines "miracle". Dr. Binor gets it.

"I'm so happy to see you guys". He smiled at us and I looked down- in fear that I would really start to cry.

"We're so happy to see you. I was worried you may be close to retirement."

"I can't retire. I have to get you pregnant first." 

Genuine. This man and his staff are genuine and they love and care for their patients more than any other doctor out there.

We've been through 7 failed attempts. Whether it was a negative result, late implantation or miscarriage, we've been through the ringer.

People always ask me if I would consider seeing another doctor.

No. The answer is no. This man is the best of the best. It's not his fault that my body has failed us all. I trust him with my life and whether or not we are blessed with another child, he has brought meaning to both Don and I...because he brought us to our Olivia.

There is no other doctor for me. For us. He is the one.

I woke up this morning with an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Do we? Don't we? What to do!? I went outside for a bit of fresh air when the most beautiful butterfly flew right past me. It was a sign, no doubt. In my past blog I talk about how butterflies are a symbol of my loved ones that have passed- particularly my Uncle Tommy- who was also my Godfather. I haven't seen many signs the past two years, and rarely really see any butterflies anymore. I laughed though when I saw him today. Go figure, right? He didn't stay for long- really only long enough for me to take notice. I looked his way- "it's about time, where have you been?"

So, here we go. Starting a month of evaluation with a hope to complete the next round in October. We are cautiously hopeful and we are ready.

Bring. It. On.