update.

A quick note to say that i'm not pregnant. Realistically, we know what our chances are with IVF, and this was only our first transfer. But I got my hopes up, I couldn't help it, and now i'm feeling pretty devastated and lost. Our new hope is that the doctor will have another plan for us when we see him next week.

I'm going to take a little break from blogging. A time to gather my thoughts and prepare for whatever is next. Thank you for your amazing support and for hanging in there with me, it's meant so much.

***

My days have been slow and quiet. I sip tea, read magazines and listen to music. I put my feet up, take my hormones, folic acid and prenatal vitamins. I research, email and blog.

I've been thinking about this blog and how much it's changed. I think about how much my life has changed. I think about Liam. My son has been gone for nearly 7 months now. 7 months. I think about the little boy he would be today. "He would have been one handsome little guy". Those were my father's first words after he kissed Liam's forehead and feet. I think about all the hopes and dreams we had for him and for our family. We wanted to take Liam to China and Uruguay, to show him his roots and introduce him to his family overseas. We had such plans. Such confidence.

I think about life and I wonder what's next. J and I are heading into Friday's appointment with the hope for a chance. A second chance. Even through loss and pain and struggle, there is hope isn't there. A light at the end of the deep, dark tunnel. It's not always easy to see it, but i've opened up my heart again and it's there. The hope that is coming.


*** Thank you so much for checking in on me, for your messages, private emails and the hopes you've sent our way. I've been thinking about you too, old blog friends who have stuck by me and new blog friends whom i've been lucky to find along my way. I'm sincerely thankful for you guys.

one.

Last week ended on a hopeful note and we made it to a transfer. Of nine eggs that were collected, six were abnormal. Three eggs went on to fertilize but two of them were developing abnormally and had to be destroyed. That left us with one. One chance for this cycle. The embryologist told us that our egg was developing "correctly" and so it was transferred into my body on Friday morning.

The transfer itself was quick but overwhelming. As the doctor implanted and we watched the procedure on the flat screen TV above our heads, J and I looked at each other with tears in our eyes. Our thoughts were with Liam. He will always be our son. We will always live and breathe his absence. I held my necklace with one hand and J's hand with the other, and through our tears we smiled. We smiled for this chance.

Now we wait. Time will tell.

I'm at home for two weeks, slowing down, resting and yes, i'm even preparing my body for the possibility of another child. If this turns into a pregnancy then we'll have to prepare for a long and hard road ahead. My high risk doctor is waiting for my call with a positive and then i'm in her hands. But for now that's looking too far ahead. For now I need to catch my breath, breathe and try to relax into whatever will happen next.

Thank you for your touching comments, for your thoughts and hopes and wishes! I really can't tell you how much it's meant to be able to come here and share and connect with such amazing people like you.

sunday morning.

I'm always the first one to wake up. I put on a pot of coffee, cuddle with Ziggy and fiddle around the house while J sleeps. This morning I curled up on the sofa with a pile of blankets and a magazine. Ziggy joined me and fell back asleep in my lap.

It's been a long two weeks. It felt good to be still and just be in those first few hours of the day. My IVF treatments are finishing on Tuesday. The heavy dose of hormones divided up into 5 injections a day have completely drained me. IVF is intense. For me, IVF after losing Liam has been overwhelming and very emotional. So much pain from his death has risen back to the surface. I feel like the past, present and future have all gathered into one time. Right now. J reminds me to take it one step at a time. Don't look too far ahead. Keep the spark of hope alive. Keep Liam close and safe. It's a balancing act.

Our collection is the next step and that will be on either Wednesday or Thursday. Then we wait by the phone for someone to tell us that my eggs have fertilized and that it's time for the transfer. Oh how I hope one fertilizes this time... steps Tash.


*** These are some photos from our day in the country last week.

6 months.

It's been 6 months since Liam died, the same amount of time that he was alive.

I'm especially reflective around significant dates. I go through the series of events that have led me to this moment in my life and it always leaves me stunned in disbelief. How Liam came to be after the doctors gave us a 2% chance at conceiving naturally. How he died after I ruptured PPROM (pre-term premature rupture of the membrane), something that happens in less than 3% of pregnancies. Those are some odds. How my son and I spent 26 days in a hospital bed holding on as tightly as we could to each other while the doctors monitored survival rates, chances of risks and amniotic fluid levels. How one day my baby was safe in my belly and the next I was helplessly birthing him into the world only to die. It's been so much to process, so much to absorb and accept. 6 months after my son's death and I still go about my days wondering what happened? What on earth happened?

Next week I start my second cycle of IVF. My new IVF protocol is more aggressive since the first cycle failed miserably, and yes, the doctor gave us our chances for success. But I know better now. I know that it will either work or it won't. I know that while I put my faith in doctors and technology, some things are just out of our control. There are no guarantees in science, just as there are no guarantees in life.

So we take everything we know, and everything we will never know, we hold each others hand and we take the next step.