After we had the miscarriage of little "Peach" at 10 weeks, we sadly had to end the contract with our surrogate. Our agency moved quickly to help us move forward and find a new carrier. We were now the agency's most frequent customers.
We matched with a woman in Florida and felt very comfortable with her and her husband on our first zoom call. They have three children of their own and she has also been a surrogate for two babies who are siblings. She was a pro, and that is why she was available. Much like the corporate world, experienced surrogates get promoted, so to speak. Given how many times we've been through this now, I wanted to work with a woman who knew what to expect on a journey so that we felt like we were in this together. I didn't want to have the responsibility of managing her expectations while I was working through my own emotions.
The transfer was scheduled for September 10th, and we all felt really good and excited about it. Ryan and I made another trip to CT on transfer day. For the past three transfers, we had lunch at a nearby restaurant with our surrogate and her support person, and then went to the clinic for the transfer. It's always the same restaurant. We joke that the staff must say "Here is that couple again, with yet another new woman." This time was different. The transfer time was moved to the morning, so we met our surrogate for the first time in person in the procedure room. Then we took her to lunch afterwards. Later that day, I told her that normally we take a woman on a lunch date before we try to get her pregnant. This time we were working backwards. Luckily, once the initial shock wore off, she found it funny.
She brought her sister with her so that her husband could hold down the fort at home for their kids. Her sister was incredibly sweet, and emotional. She was crying during the transfer and our surrogate said "She warned me that she would be emotional. She had her 6 year old twins via IVF. Also, her son just beat a three year battle with leukemia last week." The room was so intense, but beautiful. I couldn't help but get up and hug her sister in the middle of the procedure.
Our doctor asked what kind of music our surrogate likes, and she said she's a 90's kid. He asked Alexa to play 90's hits and the first two songs were "Hit Me Baby One More Time" and "Always Be My Baby." We all laughed at the irony and took these as great signs. I had prayed to Kiera beforehand for a sign. Then the real one came.
The embryologist walked in holding our embryo in a test tube and had Ryan and I verify our information. She had on a necklace with a large charm that said "333." At first I thought it was a symbol or an astrology sign, but I had the chills and couldn't stop staring at it. I actually forgot my birthday when she asked me because I was so distracted by her necklace. It is a very long story, but 333 has been an incredibly powerful and pretty unbelievable sign in my life since I was a child. The room was very dim. She was standing a few feet away under a light, holding what we hoped would become our future baby. I asked with a shaky voice, "What does your necklace say?" She didn't hesitate, and answered "333. It is my Angel number." I too was wearing a necklace that I had custom made 15 years ago, with a tiny charm that read 333. The doctor said, "There is a lot happening in this room right now." Then he released our embryo into our surrogate, and we all held our breath.
We said goodbye to our surrogate and her sister after a wonderful lunch, and left the restaurant praying that she'll have our baby. I left Connecticut feeling so positive and hopeful after Kiera's signs. Nine days later, I received a call at work that her bloodwork was positive and she was pregnant. I felt like there was a one hundred pound weight lifted off my shoulders and I was overwhelmed with how emotional I became. I called Ryan to share the wonderful news, and then my mom, who was about to leave that day for a cruise to Nova Scotia. When my parents travel, they really go off the grid. It's interesting; even though it is 2024, they never seem to have working Wi-Fi where they are. At least I was sending them off with great news.
That was a Thursday and Ryan and I were so happy and excited all weekend. Four days later, on Monday, our surrogate went for another blood test at the lab near her home in Florida to ensure her pregnancy levels were rising. Her first levels were great so we were hoping for the good news to continue. Late in the day, I received a call from our clinic that the levels were negative. I was crushed. But they assured me that they were 99% positive that this was a lab error. If she was having a chemical pregnancy or an early miscarriage, her numbers would surely decline over time, not plummet to below zero. They asked the lab in Florida to repeat the test on Tuesday because our doctor thought it was possible that their machine wasn't calibrated.
I received a call on Tuesday that the test was negative, again. Now our doctor believed that the lab, which is very reputable, must have mixed up the blood and put her name on someone else's vile. Although a terrible mistake, they have seen bloodwork mixed up before. It's usually just caught early before inaccurate results are provided. The plan was to send her back the next morning and get more blood drawn to start from scratch. Our clinic was hopeful for much better results once we could ensure it was her actual blood. I however was so worked up, frustrated, disheartened and distracted that I shut my computer and walked out of work without saying anything to anyone.
Ryan and I have been going through this overwhelming process for years, and have received two incredible miracles from it. We love parenthood so much, and want to continue to grow our family. We have been willing to expose ourselves to the risk of these heartaches and disappointments, but it doesn't mean they're easy to take on. I walked around the city sobbing, and it felt like Deja Vu. That is exactly what I did after our last miscarriage. There was still hope here, but in my heart I felt hopeless. I went into St. Patrick's Cathedral, lit a few candles, and cried in front of all the tourists. Failed transfers and miscarriages are unfortunately common. However, we've put so much time, energy, emotions and money into the surrogacy process, that the thought of another cycle, and another lunch date in Connecticut was daunting.
I got home about four hours earlier than usual. Rory had just gotten home from school and he was ecstatic to see me. Bailey didn't even look up. Lethargic is an understatement. I asked my nanny how long Bailey had been like that. She said she didn't want to upset me because she knew what we were going through, but Bailey was in rough shape. Her cough was leaving her completely breathless and she wouldn't eat or drink anything all day. She had been fighting something for a few days by this point, and had a high fever over the weekend. I had been treating and caring for what I thought was a bad typical toddler cold, but her condition deteriorated quickly since I had left for work that morning. I told my Nanny that instead of leaving early, I needed her to stay with Rory because I had to get Bay to the doctor right away.
She was diagnosed with a double ear infection and RSV (Respiratory Syncytial Virus). Her oxygen was very low but they saw some improvement after treating her with steroids. They told me to continue with the nebulizer and medications throughout the night and to bring her back first thing the next morning.
Once we were back at the doctor, she took a turn for the worse, and fast. Her oxygen was critically low and her heart rate was all over the place. The RSV was hitting hard and her lungs were having trouble expanding. Our pediatrician said she needed to get to the hospital immediately. I broke down crying, but went into survival mode. I ran her home with the stroller, grabbed her favorite stuffed animals and a few snacks in hopes she'd regain her appetite. I filled her water bottle with apple juice because the doctor said to try and force her to drink any fluids. I drove her to Hackensack Children's Hospital and Ryan took an Uber from work and met us there. Our doctor had called the hospital when we were on our way, so they were expecting us. Ryan's parents jumped in their car, drove two hours, and sat in the waiting room. Just knowing they were in the building brought me some comfort.
The doctors monitored Bailey for a few hours in the pediatric ER and decided she needed to be admitted and stay. We were a bit relieved because we knew she needed proper care. She was also incredibly dehydrated so she needed an IV. As the nurse was coming in to put the IV in her tiny hand, my phone rang. It was the clinic so I had to answer. Our nurse on the phone sounded choked up. She said "I can't believe I'm making this call. We just got the results and the Florida lab did mix up the bloodwork. But they mixed up the first test from last week. She was never actually pregnant. I'm so sorry." It felt like I was being sucker punched in the stomach. I told her that I had no words, and that I couldn't talk. We were in the hospital with Bailey and my focus was on my little girl.
I watched the IV go into her chunky little fist as she screamed and we held her down. My mind immediately went to Kiera's sweet little IV hand wrapped around my finger 6.5 years ago. The children's hospital brought back so many unwelcomed memories, but I had to hold it together and be strong for Bay.
I sent Ryan home so that he could go to Rory's first back to school night, which I had been so excited for. I spent the night by Bailey's side. It was so scary and sad, but her and I enjoyed all the quiet cuddles together.
I know the timing of the mixed up lab results was God's work. If I hadn't gotten that call at work telling me something seemed wrong with the blood test, I wouldn't have gone home midday. If I didn't go home early, I may not have realized how sick Bay was. I probably would have thought she was tired before bedtime and wouldn't have gotten her the help she needed. RSV is a dangerous virus that can turn ugly very quickly. Thankfully, she rebounded quickly as well.
I later learned that the other aspect of this lab mixup was that there was a woman in Florida who was pregnant but was given our surrogate’s negative results. She probably stopped her fertility meds and treatment. My prayers were with her, whoever she may be, through this mess too.
My parents got home from their trip the day Bailey was discharged from the hospital. I called my mom and had to break the news that there was not another baby on the way like we had thought, and that Bailey was very sick. I took her on the emotional rollercoaster that Ryan and I rode throughout the week. She knew something was wrong the whole time she was away. A mother's instinct cannot be denied.
I attended a family bridal shower that weekend and everyone warmly hugged me and said "What a week you've had." Ryan's Aunt said that I somehow must have more lessons to learn in this life, because God keeps throwing more challenges at us. I quickly knew what this lesson was. I learned that instead of grieving what I could have had or what I lost, I need to deeply appreciate what I have here. I had Bailey in my arms, and she was going to be ok. Nothing else mattered.
I took the signs in that procedure room as Kiera saying "I've got this. I'm protecting this baby." But now I know she was saying "I've got this. I'm protecting my baby sister, Bailey." We will continue to persevere, move forward, and try again. But as we do, I'm going to love and hug my children even harder, and remember the life lesson from God's thoughtfully orchestrated week. There will always be disappointments in life, but when recognized, the daily miracles that God provides continue to fill my heart.
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