There was a several month wait, and I truly didn't feel all that hopeful. It was truthfully very dark times. If you told me there was literally a dark cloud hanging over me or you got a chill when I walked by I would believe you. If you get disappointed enough you tend to prepare for the worst, and hoping for the best becomes a lot harder. I admittedly did take it very hard when right after we found out it didn't work on our first try that my brother and sister in law were pregnant with twins. Not news I was prepared for at that moment. I wanted to just be happy for them and not jealous, but that is easier said than done when you are at rock bottom. I wasn't happy about anything. People that have faced infertility understand that reaction completely. People who haven't been where I've been may judge and not understand. I know that I was holding it together the best I can under the circumstances.
So it arrives. Our last ditch effort. We get pics of our little embryos below. Aren't they cute? Five of them. I'm disappointed again there are not more left to freeze, but all are implanted. We did four last time and nothing. So maybe five is our lucky number. And yes, no matter how many implant they will reduce down to twins for the safety of the surrogate. I happen to agree with that and have no ethical qualms about it, though I know there are many that do. Dr. Patel will select on her own the least robust embryos to reduce towards the end of the first trimester and inform you when it is done and send scans.
The two week wait. Then the night arrives. Dr. Patel tells us that on February 13th we will get the results. With the time difference that means I'll be up all night until I get the email, since this time I know what actual day the HCG test is on. February 13th arrives. This will either be the best or worst Valentine's Day ever.
Refresh. Refresh. Refresh.
Drink of water. Pace back and forth.
Refresh. Refresh. Refresh.
Oh my God! There it is. An email from Dr. Patel. I open it. It says "Congratulations!" Our surrogate is pregnant.
I don't believe it. My heart is racing. I've answered suicide and crisis and emergency calls for the combined total of two decades. I am not someone who is speechless. I was speechless.
I walk into our bedroom where my husband is and he can already tell from my face that it is good news. I finally managed to stutter out "It...it...it...says...it says....CONGRATULATIONS!!!"
He grabs me and holds me so tightly it hurts a little bit. He only lets me go when I tell him I need to sit down. I feel a little lightheaded. It feels every bit as good as I hoped it would feel. No...it feels even better than that. However good you think it will feel to finally have the hope light up in your soul again after so many years, it will feel every bit as good as you dream it will and then some.
Our dream is alive again.
We call my in-laws. They cry out "Jai Mata Di!" We call my mother. She cries unintelligibly. I call and wake up my best friend who musters as much enthusiasm as you can expect being woken up in the dead of night. It is without a doubt one of the happiest moments of my life.