And the Journey Continues....

Have you ever just had a gut feeling about something and then were crushed to find out you were horribly wrong? If so, then you can imagine how I felt when THE call came in at 11:15 this morning.  You see, my blood test was actually today and not next Monday. I was so confident that this 4th round of IVF had worked that I didn't tell anyone that the prenancy test was today (except my husband).  I wanted to be able to surprise everyone at Thanksgiving with the wonderful news.  Unfortunately that won't be the case - at least not this Thanksgiving.

Usually (at least with my other 3 IVF attempts) THAT call comes in the afternoon.  I have heard from my friends who tested positive that their calls came prior to lunch, so when the phone rang at 11:15, I was excited.  But the moment I heard the nurse's voice, I knew it wasn't the outcome we had hoped and prayed for.  "Kelly," the nurse said softly, "I am so sorry, but the test was negative." 

I didn't think I listened to anything else the nurse told me, nor do I recall ending the call.  Instead I ran inside and went straight to bed and sobbed for several hours.  Despite the endless consolation offered by my husband, nothing helped.  I just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed some more.  I think I soaked my pillow. 

After about an hour, Michael called the family and told them of the news.  They were all equally as stunned as I was that the test was negative - and as heartbroken.  Michael and I so very fortunate to have such strong families to help us through such difficult times.  For that I am so thankful. 

I'm digging deep today for strength.  I am resilient and VERY stubborn.  Mr. Countis, my all-time favorite teacher, told me that he didn't think I could play a Category I piano arrangement at UIL competition.  After all, I played French Horn - not the piano.  I guess he knew that telling me I couldn't do something would only make me try harder.  A month later, I returned home from that competition with the top award.  Yes, stubborness is a good quality to have if you are infertile.  In fact, it's a requirement.  As I've said before, infertility is not for the faint-hearted.

My devotional reading yesterday said "Thank Me for everything; trust in Me at all times."  This morning's said "Thank Me throughout this day for My Presence and My Peace."   It's almost like the devotionals were foreshadowing of what was coming.  It's very difficult to be thankful when the outcome isn't what we had hoped.  Of course we ask for God's will to be done in our lives, but I can't understand why His will isn't for us to be parents right now.  But I have to trust that He has a better plan in store for me.

I have an amazing doctor.  He called this evening to see how I was doing. We spent 25 minutes discussing what went wrong and our next steps and have a meeting with him tomorrow to come up with a plan.    Ultimately, according to him we "just got a bad batch of eggs this time", and that it's "extremely unusual for egg donors to not work" - and we have an "extremely high liklihood of it working next time."   As he reminded me, "You've already paid for the experience, we're here to help you achieve the outcome you desire."

If you know me, you know that I'm a planner. My co-workers joke that when I do get pregnant, I'll likely draw up a logic model to plan it all out.  Yes.  I probably will.  But for now, we'll meet with the doctor to talk about which donors would be the best for us based on what they know about the donors.  The doctor said that he'd waive his personal fees and will work with us on all the others.  This speaks volumes of Houston Fertility Institute, and particularly of Dr. Griffith.

It's now been 11 hours since THAT call came in.  I've quit sobbing - for now.  I have come to terms with the negative outcome that today brought. This is just a bump in the road along the way on this journey.  It's not the first, but I hopefully it'll be the last.  I'm NOT giving up hope.  I'm holding on so tightly that I'll probably get rope burn.