For the last week and a half I have rested in the knowledge that we have done everything possible to give our embryo the best chance at life. Throughout these days no one could take that away from us. No one could predict the end result or completely extinguish our hope. For now, all of the thoughts and dreams we’ve had remain safe. Until we are told otherwise, this embryo can go on growing in my heart.
So, as anxious as I am to leave this phase of waiting behind, part of me does not want it to end. I know that we can never have substantial joy while we’re in this limbo, but we also can’t have substantial heartbreak. To step beyond this period of time is to take an enormous risk. And the stakes are higher than ever.
This week our second transfer cycle will draw to a close whether we are ready for it or not. We have already experienced the loss of a transferred embryo, but this time we stand to lose more money, more of our future, and more of ourselves. Soon we will face either the miracle of success or torturous failure; there is no middle ground. Will next week be spent preparing for parenthood or another egg retrieval? Right now there is no way to know.
When we were matched with our gestational carrier, Elle initially committed to enduring three transfers with us. Several months ago that seemed like a lot, and I was relieved to have a safety net in case we weren’t immediately successful. Now that we have already completed the first two, three transfers seems like very few. While we do have the option of signing a new contract to allow for more, we will all have to determine if that is the right decision. Elle has been the one good thing to come out of this process so far, but how could we ask her to continue struggling with us when she may be able to find success with a new couple? How could we open ourselves up to another carrier when we need all our strength and energy to stay open to each new embryo and possibility? How would it feel to see Elle carry a different couple’s child while we remain childless?
From the moment I heard about this specific embryo’s survival, I have felt inexplicably connected to it in a way I did not feel with the first one. Based solely on my gut feeling, I nearly asked our doctor to switch out the embryos for our earlier transfer in March. I don’t know what that means or whether it means anything at all, but as we’ve waited anxiously through the past 11 days since our latest transfer, I’ve felt buoyed by the unfamiliar feeling of hope. Even my own attempts to squash it proved futile, only causing it to swell up inside me again and again. But feeding this hope is a dangerous game. The higher you go, the farther you have to fall.
Dear Friends & Family– We appreciate that you’ve kept up with our journey and faithfully offered us your love, prayers, and support. However, we would really appreciate a few days of privacy later this week as we get the results and take time to process them, as well as inform our close family. Please do not ask if we are expecting! We promise to tell you the news– good or bad– within a couple days when we are ready. ❤