If you had asked me many moons ago if I ever thought I’d have triplets, I’d laugh and probably ask you to share some of whatever you were drinking. Ha! I’m betting it was pretty tasty.
Fast forward to now, and look at me!
Never in a million years did I think I’d be where I am today, much less writing about it. The only two pregnancies I’ve had (that counted at least), resulted in second trimester losses; my first being in 1998, which is where this journey all began. If it weren’t for a drunk driver, I’d have followed in my Mother’s footsteps and become a teen Mom. In a way I’m thankful for that day, yet for the most part it’s a sad memory – from what I can recall of it.
As a direct result of that fateful day, I’ve spent the last decade (and then some) attempting to procreate in what has been a very exhaustive and emotionally draining journey. While my path isn’t known by all, I’m hoping my voice will be one of the many that will change that. The topic shouldn’t be taboo – yet it is.
But I digress.
IVF is expensive. A cost neither my husband nor myself could even fathom in the beginning. I can’t imagine how some can afford to do it multiple times, when we could barely swing the first. When we did finally get to that point (you can see my journey/timeline here), we all but exhausted our financial cushion. Along with that went the majority of what peace was left, within our marriage. After countless sleepless nights, almost every tear shed that my body could produce, and quite a few needle pokes, we had our first round of IVF. Let’s not forget along the way, the seemingly endless surgeries – which were apparently a must – prior to taking this leap of faith.
According to my medical team, I was a textbook candidate for success with IVF. Our only factor was my tubes. While I have “acute PCOS,” no one believed it was a contributing factor.
Success on the first round!
Lastly, I was pregnant. Again. This time, I didn’t think that there would be any issues. Considering how many times we attempted naturally, I felt like I won the battle. Like so many, I took the pregnancy for granted. In a matter of moments, I went from being excited about the new find for my soon-to-be-son at a local posh consignment store, to being hooked up to IV’s & monitors left and right and fighting with doctors to save my baby; all while confined to a hospital bed due to pPROM (preterm Premature Rupture of Membranes).
My body failed me yet again.
That was supposed to be my happy ending, but it wasn’t. I ended up going into labor and losing my son at 5 months pregnant. It was a devastating blow.
All of 2012 was spent in and out of offices, stirrups, and I swear I put more miles on my vehicle in a matter of a couple of months, than most people do in one year! After my “WTF” appointment (as so many of us un-lovingly call it), it was determined that my cervix was going to be a problem going forward.
Transabdominal cerclage or “TAC” surgery to the rescue!! The Cadillac of all cerclages (closure of the cervix) was to be my knight-in-shining-armor. According to my MFM, it would grant me a 95% chance of bringing home a single baby, provided that my cervix was the underlying cause of my last miscarriage. I was still at risk for pPROM again, but at this point, 95% seemed like music to my ears, so I wasn’t even thinking about the other negatives at this point.
Everything had been bad for so long, I was ready for the good.
After the surgery, we were cleared to resume fertility treatments. We did attempt a frozen transfer that failed. Not only was it uncomfortable, but it was a disaster. My body had been under so much in the past few months (hell, years…), that in looking back, I just don’t think the time was right.
Back to drawing board! In September of that same year, we started the process all over again. Fresh cycle it was to be. This truly was our last shot. With so many expenses on the table and a failing business that desperately needed my attention, we just couldn’t afford much more of this – emotionally, physically, or financially.
Success! With the 9 retrieved, 5 were beautiful. We implanted 3 and froze the remaining two. A few short weeks later and voila! Pregnant. Ultrasound confirmed there were 3. Yes, I said 3.
In a nutshell, after a very long and strenuous 33 weeks, I delivered 3 beautiful, healthy, and much anticipated baby boys who are now just shy of a year old. Man, time flies!
While my journey is just beginning into parenthood, my battles with Infertility are far from over. Everyday, I will look at those miracle boys and be reminded of both the gift and the curse of this dreaded disease. It will forever be imbedded in my soul and the scars are a constant reminder of what it took to get here.
Follow Bree’s journey at Thought Provoking Moments. She’s a new-ish Mom to almost 1 year old triplet boys, after a decade plus battle with infertility. She’s a wife, ex-soldier, mompreneur, compulsive organizer, dark chocolate addict, and tea lover! She’s a shoe sinning señorita, and an avid supporter of fellow strugglers. You might say she’s odd or outside the norm, but her norm is her life. She’s suffered several losses along the way, lived hard and experienced first-hand much heartache and strife. Her blog has morphed from a “lessons-learned” type blog to a full on “mommy blog.” Bree is forever learning and can also be found on Pinterest
This post is part of Infertility Tales 2014, How Do You Do It?‘s series to raise awareness about infertility and its impact on families. Please take a moment to read through some of the personal stories of loss, pain, fertility treatments, and success.