Tonight as I was driving home from work, late of course, I got to witness something that always fills me with such awe and wonder: a full rainbow. It was such a welcome sight on a mostly gloomy day. Initially I was sad because I didn’t have my camera with me, then I remembered…I’ve got a camera phone! I was then able to memorialize the event. By the time I reached home, found the digicam and attempted to take a picture of the full rainbow, it faded away. But for 10 minutes tonight, I got to see a piece of Nature’s magic.
The cool thing about the last shot is that the end of the rainbow is right over where we live. Are we the treasure at the end of the rainbow?
I was having such a hard time after our disappointing fertilization report on Sunday. I fought so hard this cycle and had so much drama, that I really wanted to have more embies to transfer for this, our last attempt. Though the literature shows that one embryo transfers do as well as multiple embryo transfers in my age group, I stubbornly believed that you had to have many embies in order to be successful. I had lost my hope.
But the night before my transfer, I did something important. I shared my feelings of hopelessness with my friends, both real and online. I asked them to hope for me since I wasn’t so able to do it myself. So many people offered their prayers and hopes for my little embie. I’m not one to ask for help, but I am so glad that I did this time.
One friend from the 40+ TTC boards asked me what I was going to call my little embie. I didn’t want to call it anything since last time I named the embie it didn’t take. I didn’t want to get sucked in again. But that was such ridiculous thinking. Implantation does not depend on whether or not you name your embryo. This was again my way of distancing myself from the disappointment that I anticipated. But here’s the thing. The minute I started to think about the name, I began to find a little kernel of my hope. I decided on the name Milagro, Spanish for “miracle.” (Though I normally prefer French to Spanish, the French word for “miracle” is “miracle.” So I went with Spanish.)
Then that evening, I shared my difficulties and disappointment in my S-Anon group. After the meeting, one of the ladies told me to focus on one thought: You will be a mother. Whether it is with this embie transfer, donor eggs or adoption, you will end up being a mother to your child. Somehow this was exactly what I needed. Rather than just hope for Milagro, I spoke the certainty that I will be a mother to my child, somehow, some way. This gave me such a positive way to approach my transfer day.
We transferred little Milagro on Tuesday. S/he was an 8-celled grade 2 B excellent embryo, I’m told. Mason and I spent our time in the transfer room discussing potential boy names. I had previously been opposed to having a boy at all costs, but now I realize that I would welcome a little penis into our lives as much as any little vagina. Mason kept vetoing my name choices. What did he like best? Anakin, so that he could call him Darth! I told him that he needed help.
I had acupuncture before and after my transfer, doing all I could to increase my chances of implantation. I’ve also been taking in tons of soy isoflavones and bromelain. Tuesday and Wednesday were spent on bed rest. Mason and I fought about Wednesday on the day of retrieval. Dr. Check wants two days of bed rest. Most studies say that only one (or none) are necessary. I had patients and didn’t want to miss them. He implored me to follow the rules for this our last chance. My colleague JP ended up saving the day. “Move your Wednesday patients to Friday,” he suggested simply. And it was done. So for two days I stayed in bed bored, bored, bored. But I did what was recommended for little Milagro.
Test day is June 6th.
After transfer, while lying on the acupuncturist’s table, needles poking out from various points, I received the call from the headhunter. Merck made me a formal offer for the medical director position. The salary and perks were better than I ever imagined. I would have to have a screw loose to turn this job down. And I don’t have any loose screws…
I’m no longer one to believe in omens, but there is some kind of good karma in finding hope, transferring a perfect little embie, getting the job of your dreams, and seeing a full rainbow all in the same week. Don’t you agree?