Hope and Sadness and Hope

I mentioned this in a post around Mother's Day, but Nathan and I don't have children. That is hard (oh-so-much is packed into those three words), but we know the Lord loves us (oh-so-much is packed into that statement too). 

I remember the first time he asked me how many kids I wanted (our third face-to-face interaction - yikes!) and I said, "Four." He said, "Me too" *lingering stare*. Uh, awkward. Good thing he didn't freak me out too badly. We would have loved to have had at least four. My family has three kids and his has five, so it seemed like a good meeting point.  And, we are IN LOVE with families we know that have eight plus children (Here's lookin' at you, Henrys and Felkers!), so we wouldn't complain if God gave us more.

Two days after the lingering stare

A few years of marriage and faithful Pill popping went by. I remember saying to Nathan before bed one night, "Wouldn't it be so annoying if we were paying for this birth control and stressing about it sometimes and taking this pill every night if we weren't able to have kids?" Gulp. Annoying doesn't begin to cover it.

Finally, in the fall of 2008 we were ready to start a family, but then I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. It's actually a miracle story, and I am so grateful to God that it happened when it did. Anyway, that put things on pause for about 8 months while I got my health back.

In the spring of 2009, after my blood sugar levels were in a safe range, we were cleared by doctors to start trying to conceive. In January of 2010, we heard news that some close friends of ours were pregnant. It devastated me. I wasn't sure why, because we had only been trying for a little while, but I had a sinking feeling that I would never be pregnant. I still don't know if it was from the Lord (to prepare me for a long infertility journey) or from Satan (to discourage me).

At the year mark of trying to conceive, we were preparing for a move to England. Before we left we saw fertility specialists and took tons of tests, all of which came back normal. One doctor even said, "Send me a Christmas card with a baby on it!" When we moved to the UK and got plugged into the National Health Service, we were told that we had to go through all of the same tests again, "just to be sure." Socialized medicine is great because it's free, but it's awful because it's slow. We did go through all of the same tests again, but instead of them all being done in six weeks - like we had done in the States - it took over a year. The results were all the same: normal. 

We checked into adoption from here, but we discovered fairly quickly that we are not allowed to foster or adopt British-born babies because we are here on student visas. We also discovered that we would not be able to afford an international adoption or an American domestic adoption as international residents. The paperwork, the flying back and forth the the US, and the bureaucracy would have been a legal and logistical nightmare. Plus, our savings was quickly depleted by the weakness of the dollar against the British pound, and just like *that* we were heaping up debt.

In the fall of 2011 we finally moved forward one more step than where we were when we left America. We tried several rounds of Clomid, a fertility drug, which were unsuccessful. After Christmas I gave up charting (taking my basal temperature every morning), which I had been doing for over a year. I just needed a break from the daily reminder that I was infertile, or maybe not-yet-fertile. The not knowing what was wrong was and is really, really frustrating. 

In February of this year we were finally recommended to a fertility clinic in a nearby city, but we were told that getting the initial appointment could take anywhere from three months to three years. However, if we did get called and had the time, we wanted to try IVF because, again, the socialized system would pay for it. It was the only door that was cracking after lots of shoves on lots of doors that opened to parenthood.

Well guess what? We were not referred to the said clinic in February. It turns out that the doctor sat on it until I called in June to see what was up. That was not a good day. Anyway, the good thing is that the secretary felt sorry for us and put us on the top of the pile. We got into the clinic three weeks later, and before we knew it, I was on drugs. Lots of them.

This is about half of the drugs for our IVF cycle, all free of charge thanks to the National Health Service.

This is one daily dose toward the end of the cycle, minus one of the needles. Thankfully I was somewhat used to giving myself injections in my stomach (my first 10 months with diabetes I did it four times a day), but it has never felt natural or normal. Never.

Finally, after months of drugs and weekly doctors' appointments in Newcastle, we were ready for egg retrieval, which Allison and I jokingly called "The Reaping." Again, because of my diabetes, I was first in line that morning. My pump is sticking out of my hospital gown. I was so nervous, as I had never been in the hospital for anything before. Thanks to the Lord, my husband, and really lovely hospital staff, it wasn't so bad. The doctors retrieved five eggs.

Nathan was working on his PhD while I slept off the drugs (see the pile of stuff on the chair?). The first thing one does after waking up from a medical procedure in the UK is get some tea and toast. It tasted sooo good.

We went home that day and prayed and prayed and prayed. We got the call the next day that three of the eggs were mature, and only one fertilized. We were finally parents! We prayed and prayed and prayed some more that the cells would divide and that the baby would grow at a healthy rate, and we went back a few days later for what is called the embryo transfer. Again, thanks to the Lord, my husband, and really lovely hospital staff, the procedure was smooth. We got to see our little baby on a screen, nine cells big. Wow! I have only one regret about this whole thing, and it's that I did not get a picture of those nine cells.

Here's our first picture as a family of three!

After the transfer, we prayed and prayed and prayed even more that the little one would get snuggled in tight and that we might receive a positive pregnancy test two weeks later. Those two weeks of waiting were full of excitement and fear and hope and anxiety and - and - and lots of that kind of emotional roller-coaster. I had to go back up to the fertility clinic for the blood test on the morning of my first day of school. I had lots of new kids to meet and a very full day of work, which helped (a tiny bit) to take my mind off things.

I was told to call the clinic for my results between 4 and 5 p.m. I had a break at 4, but I had to be back to school by 4:30 to meet my tutor group until 5. That meant I had a 30-minute window to receive life-changing news, pull myself together, and get back to work. I wanted to be with Nathan for this, of course, so we decided to meet halfway between my school and his office on Prebends Bridge. It's pretty much one of the most beautiful places in Durham.

This page actually has loads of lovely pictures of Durham.

I called the clinic about seven times right at 4, and the number was busy. Nathan was a few minutes late. Finally I got through. The pregnancy test was negative. The nurse who told me was very kind, and I managed not to cry on the phone. Instead I cried watching Nathan cross the bridge coming toward me. Pupils from my school were rowing underneath the bridge. He hugged me. I told him the news. We walked a few minutes in silence to a bench behind some tress on the bank of the river, out of the sight of rowers. We cried together. And ten minutes later I went back to school.

Our friends and family near and far were wonderfully kind. Cullen wrote us a letter that I will keep in my Bible forever and always. Pamela bought me these gorgeous lillies. Amy came over to bake muffins. Robin invited me to the movies. Marije shed a few tears with me at church. Sam and Emily invited us over for dinner and to watch Despicable Me. We received lots of hugs and lovely texts.

We are still sad but trusting in Jesus. As I continue to process the loss of our first and perhaps only child, I am reminded of Peter's words in the Bible, "Lord, where else can we go?" Truly, there is nowhere else! God has been so good to Nathan and me. We must constantly give our plans over to Him and trust in His best for us, whether that includes kids or not. 

I don't really know what our next step will be. I don't know if/when we'll say, "That's enough," and grieve this whole dream and settle into being content and complete as a family of two. I honestly don't know if we'll have children in this life, but I know that there's one waiting for us in Heaven. I hope the kid has Nathan's nose.

Thanks for making it through this whole post. It was rather therapeutic to write. Did you know that October is National Pregnancy Loss month? Me neither until this year... I guess this is my way of "celebrating".