It's funny how superstition can creep in during IVF treatment to the most unsupertitious people.
I woke up this morning. The sun is streaming across the trees, shadowed by the blue sky. After days and days of gloomy rain. It's a sign, it's a sign- I think to myself.
I'm still feeling so hopefully. Ridiculously hopeful. Don't know why. Maybe because I'm on different medication (can that affect your mood?)? Maybe because the misscarriage at least opened the possibility in my head of a "yes, your pregnant" answer at the end?
We got Four little embryos this time. As of Monday they were all growing pretty well- though one was looking brilliant, two were looking good, and one was a little slow. But the "scientist" seemed to be positive about all fours chances. I pray they all make it. I love them all.
I still remember my first ever transfer. We only had two eggs that fertilised. The nurse had told me- we will call you early in the morning if neither of them make it.
I woke up at 8am. I think i screamed. It was one of the happiest moments of the whole journey. God had given us a little baby to place in my belly! And even though that little one didn't stay (I named her Elizabeth)- I still look back at that moment with great fondness. I was just so happy.
And since transfers are such non-events in terms of intervention- I've packed my day with work I have to do :( and catching up with friends to pray :)
But there is a little part of me which would have prefered to sleep and rest and reveal in the "baby in my belly" thing.
In Lamintation there is a beautiful verse about hoping in God, for yet i will praise him. I have hope for a baby- but it isn't certain hope. It's a please, please, please, I beg you God, have mercy kind of hope. But I have a certain hope that despite what happens I will praise him and know he is good.
Please Father- help me whatever the circumstances. But please. Amen
love Lady Grey