After two failed IVF treatments, our doctor told us there was nothing else he could do for us. It was probably best that we take our files and go– find another practice, another doctor, another hope to hold on to.
There was just one last bit of business to take care of before we parted ways. Six months prior, Beef and I banked two leftover embryos in the freezer, and I hate wasting leftovers.
On February 22nd, 2011, we showed up at the clinic unsure if our two little buggers had even survived the thaw. Not only did they– but one was already dividing, multiplying, growing…We could even see in the grainy microscope picture that it had busted out of its shell.
The procedure was the worst of all three I’d endured. I literally saw stars from the pain. But I got through it, ate my animal crackers afterwards, and went home to rest. Two weeks later, we found out we were pregnant.
My baby is the strongest person I’ve ever met. I don’t know anyone else who was cryogenically frozen for six months, defrosted, shot out of a cannon, born almost six weeks early… and so unphased by any of it.
I guess maybe she wanted us as much as we wanted her.