// regarding miracles, faith, and life //

i realized i haven't blogged in such a long time period. i suppose my instagram has become like my (sometimes) daily blog. i used to blog so often! i started off with a recipe blog years ago. i would even have my girlfriends featured with their great recipes. then it became all about DIY crafts and style/fashion! eventually, that became my weekly updates with oliver's pregnancy. then monthly, to his updates...and eventually, i think i chronicled his first couple of birthday parties, and then just didn't really have it in me anymore. looking back, it was while we started IVF that blogging took a backseat. IVF truly changed me. it shook me to the core and still weighs heavily on me. it's weird because it almost culminated the two times cancer consumed our lives. it was a heavy reminder of how much cancer affected and effected our daily, everyday lives.

and here we are, entering another chapter of our lives. a much different chapter. i am sitting up in bed, feeling contractions and little kicks i wasn't sure i would ever feel again. it took us two years, six round of IVF, four angel babies, and so much faith to get here...

bruises on bruises from injections

i did blog during my IVF- and most of it is heartache and grief over our miscarriages. i just re-read the very last one i have in my drafts- back in december 2016, when i found out the gender of our lost angel baby- a girl...

documenting grief is hard, but it helped me remember how badly i wanted it all to work out

Embryo # 5; our angel baby girl

i remember how the grief consumed me. swallowed me whole. i remember oliver being my saving grace. i had decided i was absolutely done with IVF, with the pain, the shots, the thousands upon thousands of dollars in debt. over the heartache. and one night, my then three year old son walked in slowly into the kitchen at dinner time. his usual happy face was gloomy and sad- a rare appearance on his precious face. the moment i asked him what was wrong, his little face crumbled into sadness and his bottom lip stuck out and trembled and he threw himself into my arms. he wailed with such sadness, as i sank into that kitchen floor and held my baby rocking him, asking him to tell me what was wrong. he started crying out "pwease don't give up mami....i want my baby....please twy again...." i will never, ever, ever forget that feeling; it didn't enlighten me, it didn't make me proud. it made me hurt like i had failed him. did i expose him to too much? was i too honest with him? should i have been hiding all of this from him? i rocked him back and forth, hearing my own cries escape my heart-wrenched chest, and couldn't even bring the words out. i wanted to explain that i couldn't; that i wasn't strong enough, that i just couldn't. but i had never heard him cry in emotional pain and i wanted to console him. so there, i promised him i would try just one more time. but i told him i couldn't promise him that it would work. by this time, geoff heard us and ran downstairs and picked him up from my arms. and i tried to pick myself up to comfort him, but i ended up on my hands and knees, screaming and crying in absolute silence as hot tears ran down my face.

weeks later, i sat with oliver playing outside of our house. he wanted an after-school snack and we sat together as he took small bites. he casually started talking about how the baby that had been in my tummy was a girl but God needed her...He did this sometimes, he nonchalantly explained; sometimes God needs the babies to go back to Heaven but then sends them back- and God was going to send his baby back to us...just like He sent oliver to us...and then he casually went back to eating his snack and playing. and i was left dumbfounded and speechless, unable to process what i had just heard...

so i didn't throw in the towel. our doctor asked us to not give up. his embryologist called me and told me the same. and so we decided one more time. one LAST time.

                                                          

and here i am....sitting at 39 weeks, 3 days pregnant, with a baby girl inside of me, gracing me with the opportunity to become a mami again. to give my beloved son a forever friend, confidant, partner in crime...the only other soul who would know what it is like to have us as parents...

looking back, i wish i would have done weekly updates of baby bump and pregnancy like i did with oliver- because more than likely this is our last pregnancy ever. i have loved going back to comparing oliver's pregnancy with this one...but i suppose all the ptsd from IVF left me a little guarded, a little scarred, a lot scared...

i still am. i sit here watching and feeling her move inside of me, and i am terrified of what's to come. i am praying for her safe and healthy arrival. i am scared of going through the newborn stage, the breastfeeding, all of it. but i focused on keeping my faith; in God and in myself; in my tribe who lifts and supports us...in this precious, miracle baby that i cannot wait to hold in my arms, yet want to protect in my belly.

baby girl,

we have wished upon many, many moons for you to join us earthside. i have imagined what it will feel like to hold you in my arms, to play with your little hands and feet, and caress your little face. of your brother, who wished you here, meeting you and holding you. of you melting your daddy into making our family complete.

Our little embryo that could

i love you so much,

mami <3

// angel baby //

i've spent the last few weeks feeling numb. not truly internalizing that our IVF/FET actually worked and then didn't.

i have looked at the bright side of this heavy situation, realizing that it is best for this little baby to go to Heaven now, rather than later, if this was going to be the outcome regardless.

i have found comfort in knowing that two "okay" embryos remain on ice- little snowflakes that may have our baby- just waiting to come home.


i officially passed our baby in two parts, on thursday, january 7th and friday, january 8th, 2016. i was told our baby's heart had stopped beating on saturday january 2nd. the last time we got to see our baby was on december 20th. at that appointment, we were told we had a more than 50% chance of our baby's then faint heartbeat continuing. our family and son were waiting for us at disneyland that day. so the numbness set in. we had yet told anyone our happy secret. we had planned on recording the heartbeat on these cute little heart recorders we had purchased and gifting them on christmas (since we were hosting) to both sides of our families. instead, we put smiles on our faces and walked around disneyland numb; using all of our strength to push forth and enjoy our family and son. we had imagined taking a picture with our ultrasound on the happiest place on earth, feeling the happiest. we returned home and had to get our house ready to host. we welcomed everyone for christmas, carrying heavy hearts and bright smiles on our faces. at christmas eve prayer, oliver led us, saying "dear God, please help my baby sister grow in mommy's tummy." everyone repeated the prayer not realizing his specific words and we stood shocked, with tears filling the brim of our eyes.

we eventually told our families, friends, and finally updated on social media. we have been so transparent about our journey- primarily in hopes of breaking the silent stigma attached to infertility and loss. it has been amazing, beyond amazing, to not only receive support, but also to be there for others who fight this battle silently. it has also been hard to receive constant advice (although 99% of it comes from a positive place), it also is often times, unsolicited and insensitive. but i also know that this comes from not knowing what to say, trying to help and remedy our situation, and the unknown of infertility. 99% of the time, i shrug it off because i know most people mean well. the 1% is when i am made feel guilty over wanting another child; when i am told that i should feel a certain way; when others' issues are used to compare and there is an apparent transference occurring. but again, i signed up for this by being this open about it.

which ended up being a breath of fresh air during this last cycle. there was just us. me and him. and oliver. and the intimacy that we created in a very non-intimate part of our lives. the labs, the ultrasounds, the check-ups, the long drives...it became just for us. and it brought us closer together.

we started testing at home 6 days after transfer- getting positives that darkened each day. it was amazing. at our first clear, digital positive, we both fell to our knees, prayed, and thanked God with tears streaming down our cheeks. it was the happiest day. we decorated for christmas that evening, feeling beyond blessed and grateful. for the first time, i felt free. i told geoff that night that i felt like i had had a bottle of wine. it felt so good. and then, our world was turned upside down.

i guarded my heart, i think. i knew the reality would hit me soon. and then it did. this last weekend, it hit me hard and sudden. i felt angry. i felt depressed. i felt heartbroken. i felt used. i felt judged. i felt like this is unjust and unfair. i felt bitter. i felt resentment. i felt mean and negative.

i still feel raw. but i so desperately want to move forward. i want to fully grieve and move on. i don't want to be mad and questioning.

i am asking God to simply show me the way. i want Him to show me what steps i should take next. i want Him to take away this strong desire to become parents again if it's not in His plan for us.

So much want. It makes me feel so needy and selfish. I am searching for my inner peace and guidance. I pray I find it soon.