We transferred this past Monday during the eclipse. As the moon covered the sun – that exact moment of totality – our doctor inserted two small and perfect blastocyst into my uterus.
It was that simple.
I was positive, spent says imagining these children, and bringing them into existence.
And they’re there, today, nestled into my uterine wall and burrowing and burrowing and burrowing.
We’ve worked so hard for this. We struggled and went through hell and felt so alone and dug and dug and dug at the earth hoping that something – maybe something – could potentially grow here.
And once it does grow – we will carry the fear of it stop growing on our backs until the day they turn earthside and, even then, we will carry a fear.
Going through more than a year of medical procedures and then this – this intense and invasive procedure for the both of us – with very little support – we understand all of our risks involved. More so than most medical professionals.
We sign document after document reminding how easily things can go wrong.
So, please, never remind us to be cautious.
We live this.
This is our life.
Instead remind us that sometimes the earth needs to be plowed before something can be planted. Remind us that things need water and sun to grow, so go take a walk and hydrate. Remind us that sometimes things stop growing but there is always more and more chances.
Remind us that there is always a new day and that there is a space to honor what is.
We are so hopeful.
And our hope should never be seen as a weakness. Our hope should never be diminished, even a little, but we also walk the line of fear. We walk the line of sorrow and loss.
So, walk on the side of hope. Hold our hand and bask in the excitement.
We transferred two embryos on Monday. During the fucking eclipse. They’re the perfect mix of my wife and I. They’re eager and they’re ready and they’re fucking growing and let’s honor that. Let’s honor them.
We are going to live in a space of positive thoughts. We are going to surround ourselves with stories of these potential children. We are going to believe and think them into existence. And, so what if they don’t come? I’ve lost enough people to understand that we mourn and we move forward.
But, tell me, what’s so wrong with being excited because – what if, what if they do come? What if they are desperate to live?
*we go this Friday, the 1st, for our first beta (blood pregnancy test)
*We got great news. We have two embryos that went to freeze instead of one. My wife created some quality eggs!
* I spent the first three days post transfer on bed rest watching awesome childhood movies. Best self care decision ever.
* we are taking a small vacation this weekend to help pass the time. It’s been the absolute best, life changing vacation we’ve ever been on. Also, I somehow fell even deeper in love with my wife.
* I’ve lost count of exactly how many progesterone in Oil intramuscular injections I’ve had but it’s probably over twelve and they suck really, really bad. Thank God for Living Rosa videos to distract me!