Two years ago at 7am I had my blood drawn to find out if our 2nd IVF cycle worked or not. It was, ironically, to the minute, one year prior to that that I had miscarried the baby we conceived naturally (link). After the blood draw, I sat in my car and sobbed. I was convinced the cycle had failed because I was bleeding just as I had been one year prior. That cycle was it. It was our last shot at having a baby.
When my doctor called with the results (5 hours and 22 agonizing minutes later), I accused him of pulling an April Fool’s joke. I couldn’t stop shaking and sobbing. I told him to call Tony with the medication instructions because I couldn’t write it down… I was shaking too hard. Turns out, Tony couldn’t hold it together either, so I had to call the doctor back later, twice, when I had sort of calmed down. I couldn’t believe that I was pregnant.
This morning at 7am, I held the results of that pregnancy and nursed his warm, sleepy self in the darkness of his room before work. And I cried.
We are so very, very blessed.