Today out of nowhere I focused in on your legs in your high chair. I mean really looked at them. They looked so long it was comical! Your feet are resting on the little foot rest on the bottom rung. Almost too big for this chair. Almost ready to move on to something new. Ladies and gentleman, we’ve entered the in between.
One part baby and one part little girl. You still have moments when you cry uncontrollably and can’t communicate what’s wrong. You just need to be held by mommy until the world stops moving so fast. But you surprise me every day with how much you know and understand. You want a baby sister and chocolate ice cream for breakfast. You run away from me as fast as you can, but turn around every few seconds to smile and make sure I’m still there.
This phase of life is so sweet but also hard on my heart. It’s the first time that I can feel you pulling away, even if it is just baby steps. I love watching you grow strong and discover the world around you. You’re becoming “you” and figuring out – sometimes frustratingly – how you fit into this great big place.
One part of being a parent that I never really pondered before I had you was the letting go part. And it turns out it might be the hardest part. For years, I had my fingers grasped so tightly around the idea of you. I wanted and needed you here with me. And once you arrived you needed me too. For two years we’ve been side by side in the trenches. But day by day you need me a little bit less. “I do it self” is a regular phrase.
You’ll start preschool this fall, and just the thought of being separated from you brings tears to my eyes. But I’m facing the letting go part head on. As much as you need me to hold you, you also need me to know when to let go. I will always be here to give you all my love, but there are some things that I can’t give to you. The gift of making new friends. The gift of new experiences and perspectives. I have to step to the side, if just a tiny bit, to let you find those things for yourself. And it is going to be damn hard on me.
For now we’ll live in the in between and savor the baby and big girl moments alike.
No news isn’t always good news. I’ve been avoiding blogging for a few weeks since we found out on June 13 that our first FET wasn’t successful. I’m an early tester, so I knew after a few days that it most likely failed. Waiting the full two weeks for beta HCG test was pretty rough. The PIO and estrogen shots are not fun, but become much less tolerable when you’re almost certain you aren’t pregnant.
I was feeling very confident about this cycle, maybe because I felt so removed from the struggles we faced years ago trying on our own and then having 5 failed IUI cycles. My last cycle was a success, so it seemed like IVF was the ticket for us and that surely this would work. It’s now funny (the saddest kind of funny) that I was so worried about having too many frozen embryos and stressing about what to do with them. Now I’m just hoping that one of the remaining three will result in another child.
The upside to the disappointment was that we confirmed our failed cycle on the same day as my daughter’s second birthday party. We were surrounded by family and so much love, which made the pain more bearable. Celebrating our happy and healthy little girl was the best medicine.
Since we have three more frozen embryos, we’re went right into the next cycle. On the day that I received the negative HCG test, I was instructed to stop my progesterone and estrogen shots. Five days later my period started and I was instructed to begin birth control. I had my baseline ultrasound and blood work two days ago and began the estrogen shots again. Full speed ahead!
The plan is to do another single transfer this time and if it works, we’ll have two more frozen embryos to try for a third child down the road. If this transfer doesn’t work, our RE said we may want to consider transferring both of the remaining embryos.
Anyone have any advice or experience with multiple single transfers not working but having success with two? I’m starting to wade through the research to see if transferring two embryos really improves the chance of pregnancy, or simply increases the chance of multiples. I’m terrified of the added risks that come with twin pregnancies and will only be convinced to transfer two if I feel it is our best shot at having another child/children.
By writing this a month after we got the news that our cycle failed, I’m riding a new wave of optimism for our next cycle, but it has been a difficult time mourning the loss of one of our embryos and all the promise that it held for our family.