A Baker's Dozen

You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have the facts of life.

It’s been a while and when people ask, “How are you?” It’s hard to put into words, except I keep recalling the theme song to The Facts of Life. We have been relentlessly pursuing fertility grants.  And although it certainly doesn’t compare to many education grants I’ve helped with, it takes a lot of wherewithal.  Lots of financial information and gathering and then there is the telling your story.  It seems so weird to have to 1) convince people of why you want a child, 2) explain that you can afford to have a child, and 3) explain why they should help you finance that endeavor.  I mean, most parents don’t ever have to be held accountable in those ways before having a baby.  Sheesh!  Add to that, for a few of the grants, we also had to have letters of recommendation from two friends (thank you so, so much by the way). 

The first grant we applied for, Pay it Forward, unfortunately announced their recipients this week – and we were not on the list.  Granted, they had 82 couples apply and only awarded to two.  I was bummed and yes, it would have been financially nice, but also because it was just a reminder of the process we are going through.   And it’s starting to feel long.  This summer will mark the 2-year mark and we aren’t getting any younger.  In fact, in just a few weeks I’ll be 38.  Yikes.  Bittersweet.  Each birthday, I am so relieved, so grateful to be here and yet, in the face of infertility, reminded of the impact of age on all of this. 

We also just applied to two other grants; one has a rolling submission and twice a year award (which they don’t publish the date?) and another is due April 30 with a July award.  The first is through an organization called Fertile Action, started by a breast cancer survivor and specifically for cancer survivors.  The second, Baby Quest, is for regular ol’ folks.  I feel like these ‘regular ol’ fertility foundations’ probably think that there are a lot of resources for cancer survivors in regards to fertility and in reality, given the high number of young cancer survivors – there are very few.  Only one.   Yes, there are resources for folks prior to cancer treatment to help preserve your fertility, but none after the fact.  So, we find ourselves lumped with everyone experiencing infertility and I just feel like we are yelling, ‘But hey – we’re different! No one is there to help us’ to an empty room.

Bittersweet.  That word has been coming to mind lately as we struggle, move forward, struggle, move forward.  It seems that when we reach a dark moment, something reminds us to keep plugging away – and that has happened quite a bit lately.  People have stepped up in amazing ways – emotionally giving us support and even financially.  You all are amazing!

The day we found out we didn’t get the grant, we got word that some plans that had been in the works were finally finalized.  A very special couple has chosen to donate the remaining eggs they had from a previous donor cycle.  Don’t ask me details, because we aren’t divulging any information about who – just know that we (and probably you, too now) think this is an amazing act of generosity.  Gratitude seems like a gross understatement.  The day we didn’t get the grant, we found out that all the legal documents were signed and cleared and that Brett and I were now the proud custodians of a baker’s dozen of frozen eggs that will hopefully one day become our little babe.  Pretty amazing.  It seems now, even without getting the grant, we are closer towards bring this baby into our life.

So now what?  Well, we begin the process of thawing the eggs, fertilizing them, and hoping that all goes well in that process and the eggs result in healthy growing embryos.  Well, not us personally, but trained professionals.  We will then refreeze those and wait for the best time to transfer them, keep our fingers crossed, and hope that all goes smoothly from there.  Bittersweet.  The optimist in me believes that all will work out. The eggs will thaw perfectly, fertilization will happen and we will have many embryos to work with after all is said and done.   If all of that works out perfectly, the statistics give us a 71% chance that we will get pregnant and have a baby.  The pessimist in me is worried that we will go through all of this and that fate will be cruel and we will find ourselves back at square one, empty handed and trying to figure out how to begin again.  It’s hard to balance protecting yourself from being too excited and being realistic.  We have a phone appointment early this next week to figure out the schedule, the cost, and the plan with Bankowski. 

And even though I am tremendously excited and feel like we just might pull this crazy thing off, it also reminds me that it is looking more and more likely – well, let’s be honest, pretty definitely, that Brett and I won’t be having our own baby: me and him.  I thought I had really come to terms with this when we found out and to be fair, 99% of the time I am.  But I think there was a tiny, tiny part of me that had hoped we would get a true miracle in that department.  And as we move closer to realizing this other amazing miracle, it’s likely I really will have to let that dream go.  I know it will be okay, better than okay when the time comes and that I will not even realize or care that this baby isn’t ‘technically’ a part of me once it’s here.  But it’s been a tiny struggle as of late.  What did I say…bittersweet.

So wish us the greatest of luck and keep us in your thoughts and prayers as we move into this next phase.  We likely will not disclose timing on the transfer and all of that.  I say this now, but who knows.  I may feel like I need all the support I can get when the time comes.