This morning is a big one for us. We will finally get to see what's happening in my uterus. We are seven weeks pregnant and it's time for our first sonogram. Our pregnancy was made possible via IVF. I preface my story with this because at least for me, there's been so much trepidation with the process. I wasn't sure I would want to tell others how we got pregnant. I knew people would ask and I feared being judged or placed in a category that uses a word I did not like infertile, too old, failure and in vitro. These and other words have made me feel less than a woman in the past. I've come to realize that I am the only one who can give those words power over me. The truth of the matter is that pregnancy is a miracle no matter you look at it and whatever path you choose.
I don't feel any different in my body. There is nothing telling me I am pregnant except our 9 a.m. appointment. I went through my normal morning practice; breakfast, meditation and writing in my gratitude journal. I found that sticking to my routines has helped me be more present to this entire experience. I'm excited and nervous. I've come to realize these are very interchangeable feelings.
We had two embryos implanted. We chose to have two embryos because it would increase the chances of keeping one. Although, we were a bit overwhelmed by the slightest possibility of twins. This morning we would find out what the outcome of the IVF procedure was.
My husband was a bit giggly and we both had big smiles on our face. We felt like children anticipating the biggest surprise of our lives. I wasn't dreading this appointment. For the first time, I found myself really looking forward to going to the clinic.
When we got there, we took a brief seat in the lobby. Our name was called immediately. I wasn't given much time to change my mood or have the anticipation set in.
We went into the exam room, I undressed from the waist down and propped my feet into the stirrups. No matter how comfortable the exam room might appear to be, this is an awfully vulnerable position to be in, regardless of the circumstances. I felt a little raw and thin-skinned in this setting.
The doctor entered the room and greeted us warmly. I really like our doctor, he always seems very present, patient and compassionate. Sort of what I would imagine a grandpa to be.
He placed a condom on the probe that's connected to the monitor and went inside. The insertion of the probe made me mildly uncomfortable, both physically and mentally.
He was searching for many long moments.
"There's one!" He said.
He looked around a little further.
Many more, much longer moments passed.
"Yep, I just see one."
Just one? My mind started to jump around. I felt the disappointment set in. I was embarrassed by how I was feeling. Why couldn't I just be happy with one? It's not that I wasn't. I just wondered if I did something that caused the other embryo not to take. Did I eat something I should not have? Did I move around the wrong way? Will my body now reject the only hope we have? It was a very awkward span of time. I was intensely gazing into the monitor trying to look happy, but my thoughts were floating away into worry like a balloon I allowed to get away from me. I couldn't grab a hold of the string fast enough.
The doctor pointed to a spot on the screen. "And there's his heart." he said.
His heart? Oh my gosh! I could see a teeny little light flickering away. It was like the first scene in the movie It's a Wonderful Life when the angels are talking to God up in the galaxy. Every time an angel spoke the stars would glimmer and shine. It's a very sweet scene. It felt like my little angel was speaking to me.
The doctor added sound. I could hear our baby's heartbeat. It was the most melodic sound and sight I have ever experienced. This is inside of me. This little miracle has made his way here to me and he is just a harmonious, golden light. The biggest sign of hope I have ever received. Nothing could ever take it away from me. I was completely present to the experience. Delving more profoundly into this precious encounter with our little soul.
My husband was in awe. His jaw dropped low. All he could say was "Wow, wow, wow," over and over again. We looked at each other and the tears just flowed. What a pristine moment of bliss and reassurance to share, understanding that we had so much more to look forward to.
We've entered a new phase of belief, trust, peace, and joy. More continues to be revealed. All is unfolding perfectly in right time. We are truly grateful.