The first year trying was like so many other stories here—negative test after negative test. We received the frustrating “unexplained” diagnosis, and underwent 4 IUIs. After the fourth was a bust, we knew IUI wasn’t going to work.
We started the IVF process in July 2016 which resulted in 3 PGS normal embryos. We were so hopeful with our first FET, but sadly, test after test only showed one pink line. We transferred again January 2017. We finally saw two pink lines, and had strong, doubling betas. We were overjoyed; I was finally pregnant after two years.
The night before my 6 week ultrasound, I woke up to severe cramping, and was gushing blood and clots. We were blown away to see a heartbeat the next morning, but also a massive subchorionic hemorrhage. I spent the next 4 weeks on bedrest with weekly ultrasounds. At 14 weeks we found out our daughter’s growth had become severely restricted. We underwent extensive testing at MFM, and at 17+1, we found out her heart had stopped beating. I was induced and delivered her a few days later on May 2, 2017.
Words can never explain the pain of being induced to deliver a still, but perfectly beautiful, baby. We spent a lot of time that summer healing: crying, therapy, drinking wine, learning to enjoy time the two of us again. October 2017 we geared up for another transfer, only to have it canceled—twice—because of fluid in my lining. My uterus was scarred from retained placenta after delivery that required a D&C.
I now also had the cruel diagnosis of secondary infertility. We had serious discussions about using a gestational carrier, and had gracious offers from a few incredible women in our lives. Our RE wanted to give it one more go with a natural FET, and to our shock, we were able to transfer. I’m thrilled to say I am 23 weeks with our rainbow daughter. But, the anxiety from loss never really goes away. The grief never goes away. It all just evolves.