Last weekend, we flew to Wisconsin to meet Keaton, the first child of our good friends, Kate and Collin. It was his baptism weekend, so we were able to be there and offer a helping hand for those festivities as well. Drew and I were both more than smitten with little Keaton. He is an absolute doll, and we both eagerly held him often over the few days that Kate and Collin put up with us us up.

Kate and Collin are already wonderful, caring, and doting parents to Keaton. It was so fun to watch them with him, and to see him respond to his Mommy and Daddy. Even at only eight weeks old, the little peanut certainly knows the difference and responds preciously when he hears their voices, sees their faces, or feels their touch. It brought me to near-tears several times to witness these two, who so desperately wanted a child, interacting with their perfectly sweet little one.

Here are a few pictures of this weekend (mostly from the baptism). I wanted to take more pictures around the house of all of us (including Amanda, who we also enjoyed seeing...hi, Amanda!) with the baby, but wouldn't you know it? My camera battery was dead almost immediately after I took my first picture. Luckily, before the baptism on Sunday, Kate and I figured out we basically have the exact same Canon point-and-shoot, so I was able to use her battery charger. (Phew!)

Thank you for letting us come meet our pseudo-nephew, you guys. We enjoyed every minute of it, and we can't wait until we get to see all of you again! We miss you!

-Em and Drew

...so, if you care, we saw one dominant follicle on the ultrasound on Tuesday. Hopefully, one decent egg and chance to conceive.

-Em

I'm antsy today. It is CD (cycle day) 11, and tomorrow we have our mid-cycle ultrasound to see if the maximum dose Clomid has helped me grow any dominant follicles. I am nervous for the ultrasound; I always get nervous before it. I always have the worst-case scenario in my mind, because the worst has happened to us too many times to realistically fake optimism...that just isn't our luck in life, as you've probably realized by now.

So, tomorrow, what if there are no dominant follicles and, therefore, no potential eggs? Our cycle will most likely be cancelled and we'll have to wait...again.

My worries don't stop there, though. Oh no. We know too much and are too many years into this process, with too many failures and heartbreaks, for that to be the simple end to our worries.

"Even if I do have one or two dominant follicles, what if the eggs don't release?" "What if, even if the eggs release (i.e., I ovulate), what if they are not fertilized?" "What if, even if the eggs are fertilized, the blastocyst does not attach to the uterine wall?" "What if, even if the 'early' embryo attaches to the uterine wall, the progesterone suppositories and Metformin and baby aspirin regimen aren't enough to sustain the pregnancy?"

I know...I know. Listing out all the potential points at which the whole cycle could go wrong isn't helping anyone. It isn't helping my own psyche, and it won't affect the process, one way or another. What is going to happen will happen, regardless of whether or not I'm fretting every step of the way.

As always, I'm just sad. I'm sad that this is our life--an incessant flood of worry, followed by brief-yet-guarded elation, followed by the inevitable crushing defeat when it's all taken away. It's so surreal to be in this position right now--where, even if everything goes right and we do get pregnant for the third time, our worry would only really begin in earnest with that positive pregnancy test. It isn't bad enough, apparently, that it takes so many different drugs and procedures and supplements to make my body become pregnant...now, after two miscarriages, we are dealing with all of the thoughts of "What if my body just isn't capable of carrying a baby to term?" "What if I keep getting pregnant, but never birth a living child?"

I wish I knew the answer to this question. If it isn't possible for me, I'd like to stop now, so that I'm not irresponsibly starting a life that will be inevitably ripped away from us. After losing our first child, I thought I'd never make it through the loss of another. But I did. I made it through. But, that does not mean I want to continue to experience it again and again. I know it's hard for people to understand...those who haven't had to watch in horror as their unborn baby leaves their own body. When you want a family as much as we do, when you've tried for years and years because you've never once questioned whether or not you wanted to be parent--it is that instinctual for you--the thought of losing another baby makes you want to die. I am not being over-dramatic by saying that. Each time I learned one of my babies didn't make it, I wanted to petition to Someone above to please reverse the decision and take my life instead of that precious child's.

Oh, how I long for the life of a fertile person, if only for one cycle. It seems like such a small favor to ask for in the grand scheme of things. I long for a conception without invasive medical procedures. And I long for the unbridled joy, without dread for another loss, that should accompany a positive pregnancy test. Mostly, though, I long for the (I think) not-so-unreasonable expectation that a healthy baby will enter this world nine months after s/he is conceived.

What if that were an option for me? What if...

-Em