Dear Baby,
I know I start off every letter like this, but I’ve been thinking about you so much lately. I feel so, so close to you.
The thing is, I know in my heart you’re waiting for me at the clinic in Encino. You, and maybe one of your siblings if we’re really, really lucky. Luck hasn’t been on our side through any of this, so I have to believe that the tide is changing, and it’ll be good news from here on out.
Once I realized my strength, my entire outlook changed. I don’t see failure as our only option any longer. And I’m not scared of it any more.
This could be our time. August has always been good to your daddy and me: we were engaged on this day, August 26, six years ago. We adopted your kittycat sister Charley in August. We’ve moved into two different homes in August (one just a couple weeks ago). So if big, important events happen for us in this waning summer month, why shouldn’t we get pregnant with you?
I wasn’t planning on writing to you about any this, because the “what if” alarm was sounding in my head. What if this doesn’t work? What if the transfer fails? What if we still don’t find you? I didn’t want to get your hopes up… which sounds silly as I write this, but I know that you’re out there looking for me, too. Your soul; your spirit is just waiting for a host.
This is farther than we’ve ever come. I am literally one day away from having you transferred to my womb, and that is to be celebrated.
I need to start from the beginning.
On August 6, I started taking medication to prepare my body for a pregnancy. On August 16th, I went in for a checkup, and because nothing is ever easy with us, my lining – the little bed where you’ll snuggle into and start to grow and gather nourishment from me – that lining wasn’t thick enough to allow for any of that. So we almost had to call everything off and try again with different medicine.
But something told me this was OUR month. So we waited five more days, I kept taking my medicine, and I went back in for a check up.
And guess what? Even though I had braced myself for a delay, and my doctor and I discussed alternate medication before she even started the ultrasound, and I was okay with waiting, we were both surprised to see a perfectly thick lining waiting there for you.
So we moved forward. The next day, Aug 22nd, your dad and I went to the clinic and signed a bunch of papers, paid all of our fees, and dropped off your dad’s contribution. After we left, they pulled our cohort from storage and began the process of thawing and fertilization.
And just like that, your host was created. In fact, you and a couple of your siblings were created. Every single ovum survived their thaw, even though the egg bank’s success rate is only 90%. Then, every single ovum fertilized, even though the average success rate is only 80%. We went from having 8 frozen ova to having 8 developing embryos in a matter of hours.
This is the first time in our entire journey that we’ve beaten the odds in our favor. And that, my baby, is a miracle.
However, while I wholeheartedly believe in miracles, I also understand science. I understand that not every egg in a woman’s body is capable of turning into a baby. If this were true, your daddy and I would have found you long ago. Only the best of the best are even released during ovulation, and only super strong, Navy SEAL eggs turn into embryos. After those become embryos, only super elite ninja warrior SEALs develop into blastocysts and, eventually, babies.
I understand that this entire process is part science, part miracle, and completely fascinating. I understand that having eight embryos guarantees nothing. When your dad and I tried this ourselves, we had a total of 29 eggs; 12 became embryos, and absolutely zero survived.
Nothing. Is. Guaranteed.
But we’ve beaten the odds once this month, and I know we can do it again.
They grade the quality of embryos on two main factors: how many cells they are comprised of and how fragmented they look. On day 3, healthy embryos should contain 6-10 cells. Obviously, the more the merrier, but everyone develops at their own pace, even in vitro. They are also ranked Good, Fair, and Poor, with plus or minus rankings. Best critter ever would be a 10cell, Good quality embryo. And those guys are super rare. Like finding a unicorn.
And again, I understand that not all embryos are Navy SEALs or ninja warriors. That’s purely science. So when my doctor told me yesterday that we have one 8cell, Good quality warrior, three 7-9cell, Fair quality Navy SEALs, and four 6-8cell, Poor quality struggling infantrymen… I wasn’t – I’m NOT – discouraged.
I know that one of those Fair or even the Good embryo is you. You are alive, baby. Right now. You exist.
Tomorrow, we transfer one of those little guys inside of me, and with a little luck and one HUGE miracle, that little warrior will grow into you. Our perfect little baby.
If not tomorrow, we’ll try again. And again and again and again, until science and the divine come together and I can hold you in my arms. We should have four chances, possibly more. It’s not uncommon for embryo grading to change between day 3 and 5.
Whatever happens, I’m ready for it. I’ve waited so long for this moment, and we’ve come so very, very far.
I know I’ll be seeing you soon.
Love,
Mom
My Stork Got Lost 