No ragrets (post by jessi)

During the dreaded two week wait, which is the time period between the embryo transfer to Maggie and the blood work to confirm whether or not she is pregnant, I drafted a blog post about how our strategy for the second transfer was completely different than the first.  Preparing for the second transfer had a completely different energy.  Instead of the hurried coordination of appointments, procedures, drug-taking, we quietly waited for Maggie’s ovulation stick to show a happy face.  Maggie had two sessions with an acupuncturist, ate some red meat to increase her chi (or at least we think that was the recommendation the acupuncturist gave her) and while Ben and I babysat her kids, I hid a fertility idol in her house because my co-workers, Megan and Ingrid, (read:  seasoned advisors in spiritual/holistic healing) told me to.  Ben was able to attend the second transfer and Maggie took a week off from her workout schedule.  Everything was different so naturally, we’d expect a completely different result.

About half-way through the two week wait, I knew it failed again.  I don’t know how I knew because I’m typically not a negative thinker but I just knew.  Sure enough, Maggie started her period a couple days before the blood draw date and we had been defeated again.  I was mad.  Stark raving mad!   I’m not sure if this is the usual response but considering that I was anticipating a failed transfer coming on, I had already breezed through the first two stages of grief and gotten stuck in high gear on stage 3, ANGER.  Poor Mo caught the brunt of it.  (I’m sorry Mo, muah!) Also, I really don’t think she gets paid enough for having to deliver such terrible news (Make note Dr D.).  I’m sure most women are shocked, stunned or even speechless, not me though.  I came unhinged.  “How is this possible?!”  “Why didn’t it work!?”  “No, I don’t want to talk to Dr D unless he’s got a damned-good explanation!”  And then, after some reflection and a gin-soaked happy hour with Benny, we realized there are no answers.  No one is ever going to tell us the transfer didn’t work because of X and next time we will do Y and it will work.  It’s never going to be that simple and I eventually came to the conclusion that regardless of all the changes we made for the second transfer that gave us new hope, it doesn’t matter.  It’s either going to work, or it isn’t.  Plain and simple. 

And then it came time to make the hardest decision to date – call it quits or soldier on.  Benny and I are happy with either scenario which made the decision even harder.  In both of our previous lives, having a child was completely out of the question.  Before we had even met, we each made the choice for a childless life and we’re both at peace, confident in our decisions and actively embracing the freedoms a childless life can offer.  If all would fail again, we would resume this lifestyle which comes with great perks like traveling, exotic vacations, sleeping through the night, having disposable income for home improvement projects, spur of the moment adventures and getting to live in the world that’s oblivious to the not-so-glamorous parts of parenting.  But, at the same time, we really, really want to have a family.  We want to replicate the awesome family life that our parent’s gave us.  We want to see the world through the eyes of a child again and embark on one of life’s greatest challenges together.  We want it all. 

So it all came down to “what if?”  What if it worked on transfer 3 or transfer 4?  Our lives would be changed forever and if we don’t give it another go (because we still have the means to do so right now) we’ll often wonder “what if?”  And wondering about "what if" is too close to regret.  We're not the kind of people who live with regrets.  Not even a single letter.