****

Our 3rd IVF was scheduled to start at the end of the month. We had a new fertility specialist on board and a new protocol. We were given a 20% chance at conceiving through IVF and a 2% chance at conceiving naturally.

I cancelled the IVF treatment last week.

Last year, after we followed all the "rules", we learned there's no such thing as a "safe time" to share our news. So here goes.

I'm pregnant. Spontaneously. Again.

"You see, anything is possible", my doctor said.

Yes, anything is.

Whatever the numbers and statistics, whatever my age and egg count and egg quality and J's sperm count and our fertility rate and all the factors that affect our chances at conceiving, we are pregnant. What luck.

And now we hope our luck continues.

I have my first ultrasound next week and then at 12 weeks after a neural ultrasound, i'll have a cervical cerclage placed and i'll be on strict bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy. My new high risk doctor is one of the best in the city, and I put myself and this little life completely in her hands. Our goal is to get us to 28 weeks, but if we can get further along, then even better.

It won't be an easy journey, but well worth it if it means we get to bring a baby home in the end.

<<<<<<<<<<

My Liam. My heart. This time last year we announced his pregnancy without a worry in the world, and today we quietly, cautiously announce another. I don't know how we beat the 2% odds a second time. I don't know if we will bring a baby home this time.

All I know is that today, i'm pregnant. I'm hopeful. And God it feels good.

>>>>> This photo makes me feel hopeful. We took it last month and I thought it was fitting.

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.

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.

sunday.

At the end of an afternoon that included lunch at our favorite Indian restaurant, take away samosas for later, holding hands, random street art and hot cocoa, we plopped down on the sofa with our cat Ziggy. Me on my iPad, J on his laptop and Ziggy happily tucked between us. Me surfing the blogs, J on Fstoppers and Ziggy purrs filling every corner of our little living room. This is more or less what our Sundays looks like. Us. Living quietly. Missing terribly.

The night ended with a lit fire, wine, those samosas and the season finale of Dexter.

Then I touched my son's urn and went to sleep.


** I found these angels in a little shop last month, they're Christmas presents for Liam's great grandparents, grand parents and aunt and uncle.


*** This is Ziggy. We adopted him last month. 

vermont.

This weekend we hiked, hopped, breathed and held hands.

I hope you're enjoying the season where you are.