What a roller coaster! I'll start from where I left off in my last blog...
It's Saturday night, and we are more convinced than ever that yet again this cycle is going to be a flop at best - disaster at worst. Sarah feels that she is continuing to deflate, and her tummy pain is continuing to be a problem on and off during the day. Like every night, we pray that God will help our embryo to continue to grow and implant.
So Sunday morning rolls around. We go to church and our pastor happens to be talking about the Israelites freedom from bondage and slavery in Egypt, and in particular the point where Moses and the rest are hemmed in by the red sea and Pharaoh's army. He talks about those "only God" moments where the pillar of cloud and pillar of fire protect the Israelites, and then the miraculous happens and the red sea parts for them to cross to the other side. At the end he invites people who are struggling with feeling hemmed in and confused and struggling with life issues to come to the front during the final couple of songs. Sarah went forward, and I knew that we had to - I just typically didn't particularly want to. I'd heard her sniffing right throughout the service but keeping it discrete. Now there was no option of being discrete. So in tears we both sat at the front with various others who had their own issues. We (I) sang through the songs, and we cried through the songs too... The songs were really fitting - The desert song ("This is my prayer in the desert...") and You came to my rescue. There were lines like "I am emptied, ready to be filled again", and the like which really got me going... And at the end of the service (with no where near enough tissues to have gotten that far!) our pastor came and knelt in front of us and just gave us both a big hug. He knows our pain. He knows that tomorrow (Monday) is the day we find out what's really going on. I had to hold on to my sobs of mental and emotional anguish cause the whole congregation was sitting behind us - many of them probably watching us (I suppose it doesn't look that good when an elder gets up the front after an altar call of sorts!) He prayed with us and was of great comfort. He asked us where we were at with everything. For me it's not about not trusting God, or shaking my fist at him and asking why, I know he has things planned down to the day and the hour that our son or daughter is born, it's just that I'm incredibly sad that it's not here and now. He had his wife pass away suddenly about four years ago and so he knows all about grief and the process of dealing with it. He led some seminars a few years ago about his experiences and the lessons he learned. I asked him if he had any planned in the near future - and it seems he is considering doing them again - because there is always new griefs being experienced every day.
After that one of the support team leaders came up to us and said that he felt God leading him to tell us that we would have a prayers answered soon. I kind of took that with a grain of salt and almost dismissed it as someone just trying to be genuinely helpful, but nothing could change the way I feel at the moment. I won't be counting my chickens till the hatch so to speak.
So the rest of Sunday was a very quiet and subdued day. We stayed in and just enjoyed being together. I am more certain than not that this cycle is going to be a failure. I'm mentally preparing myself for the looming prospect of the death of another of our embryos...
On Monday morning Sarah had her blood test anyway. Throughout the morning it is always there in my mind - like a splinter... I went for lunch and did my usual wander around one of the scenic routes through town while listening to Jars of Clay - Much Afraid album. with particular attention to songs like Much Afraid, Frail, Tea and Sympathy and Fade to Grey. During my walk I struggle to keep my composure, text some close friends who know what we're going through and ask them to pray for us, they say they already are, and I begin to think - "hey what if?", but quickly tell myself that I can't afford to think like that - I've done that before and regretted it big time! But it's a pleasant thought. If even for a moment - which is all I allow myself.
So I get back to work hoping for a message to call Sarah or something! But alas no. Then out of the blue one of the shop girls tell me that Sarah is here, and I spot her peeking around the front door of work. Needless to say - my heart skipped about three beats! I dropped everything, and went to meet her. She's holding a single pale yellow rose, and has a card obviously for me. And she's smiling kind of coyly... "Is that a smile on your face??!!", "Yes!". So I open the card and it's got a mummy and a daddy rabbit on the front looking dotingly on as their baby rabbit sleeps". On the inside it says "HI Daddy, Love from Emby & Mummy. We love you! xxx". We hugged... and cried... and shared I love you's!
I have often thought about how it would be to be told that we were pregnant, and I can honestly say that in the moment, everything just happens, there's no amount of planning that you can do to have it all come out the way you want it to...
So we are two weeks into our first pregnancy - at the moment classed as a chemical pregnancy because it can only be chemically detected at present, and we are hoping and praying that it continues to grow and develop healthily.
We went and saw our pastor that evening to tell them the great news, and he and his wife were overjoyed with us.
To all this I can say that "only God" could have got us this far - especially considering the negative feeling we were getting from Sarah's symptoms. So we have a little bit of miracle in our own lives - and everything we have ever hoped and dreamed of has started to come true.
We are by no means out of the woods yet. There is still plenty of opportunity for things to go wrong in the next 9 months, but we are quietly optimistic, and feel like we can afford to be just a little bit jubilant.
As Searching for Serenity just said in her last post - I will always be an infertile - this struggle is something we will no doubt have to go through again to have any subsequent children, but that is fine. Infertility is not something you just get over by having one positive HCG test - there is a long road ahead. I pray that all of you who read this and have suffered like we have will come to this point in your journey and have everything change for you in an instant, like it has done for us. The scars of the last three and a half years of journeying will be with us for a long time, but no matter how this "chemical pregnancy" turns out, we know God is working out his plan for us.
Only God could have got us from where we were to where we are. Only God. Thank you - You know how much it means, you've seen every tear drop, heard every prayer, and by your grace given us more than we deserve. Thank you God.