Life, Part I

Here's my IVF story:

A year ago this month, I nervously awaited a phone call.

I had just spent the previous 2 months preparing my body with drug injections. The hope of having another life in our family was too burdensome, so I did the injections robotically.

When the day came for us to go to the clinic to harvest the burgeoning eggs, the hope was no less heavy. I was glad for Dan's presence. He has a way of knowing when to be silent and when to make light of the situation. But, that's why he's mine.

They harvested 11 eggs. We joked that they were the 11 faithful disciples.

We prayed for those 11 eggs.

It's hard to know how to pray for 11 eggs. We didn't want 11 children. So we left it in the hands of Him who made those marvelous pieces of life in the first place.

A few days later we received the first call: Seven of the eggs were doing well. Seven. More prayer.

A day or so later we were told that 4 were viable. We were told to come in for the next procedure: the transfer.

The whole week felt like a lot of numbers and phone calls and prayer. It was an intensely surreal week.

By the time we got to the office, three of the eggs were okay for transfer. Hmmm... We didn't feel that we would be ready for triplets. The staff assured us that they only transplanted enough eggs that they felt would give us one healthy embryo. More prayer.

About a week later, blood work revealed the result. I received this phone call:
"Mrs. Dykstra?"
"Yes."
"We received the results from your blood work. We needed your numbers to double."
"My numbers doubled?"
"No... Your numbers tripled. It appears you are pregnant."
"My numbers tripled? Am I pregnant with more than one?"
"We're not sure. We need you to come it for an ultrasound."

I called my mother and we wept with the good news.

The ultrasound revealed two sacs. It appeared that we might be having twins. Yikes.

My husband told me later (MUCH later) that he prayed that only one baby would be entering our life; he didn't feel that twins would be good for us.

The next week's ultrasound revealed one embryo. One little sac. One little embryo that started from a group of eleven, and then seven, four, three, two... One.

We had to name this little one "Life". We had to name her Eve. My, how she fought.

We fought for her. She fought for us.

Life.

This is the box of drugs that came in the mail. It's a little intimidating.

Dan was a trooper and helped me with my shots. I called it "Baby Juice".

To anyone unawares, this is simply a picture of me, Morgan and an Easter Bunny. However, what I remember about this picture was that I couldn't button my cords and could barely zipper them because the IVF drugs had caused such swelling in my abdomen. I was glad to wear a long coat to hide my secret.