Embryo Adoption

Without meaning to, I was a little bit vague and a little bit confusing on my last post.  So to clarify: when I said we would be adopting Tucker as the tiniest of all babies….I was referring to the relatively new embryo adoption. 

And we are so stinkin’ excited we can’t even begin to contain ourselves.

Embryo adoption refers to the adoption of one of 400,000 frozen embryos worldwide, (many) of whom were created during the IVF process and were then frozen indefinitely once their genetic parents felt like their family was complete. 

Adoption of an embryo is a process very similar to that of domestic infant adoption, and yet uniquely tragic in that the actual embryo is viewed as property in the eyes of the law...not a baby.  At its core, legally speaking, embryo adoption is a legal agreement transferring ownership of the embryo from the genetic parents to the adoptive parents, and it carries with it none of the tax credits or incentives that traditional adoption allows.   

To us, this view of life is a tragedy. We believe that life begins at conception, we believe that these waiting lives are precious and worthy and our hearts are incredibly tenderized to them.  To us, these waiting embryos represent a population of innocent, precious lives that have no one to fight for them.  They have no advocates.

Each year, genetic families decide whether or not to keep storing their embryos, and from experience we know that the fee to freeze and store embryos is upwards of $500 a year.  Genetic parents who are done building their families and find themselves with ‘leftover’ embryos have three choices: (1) donate the embryos to science, (2) continue storing their embryos or (3) have their embryos destroyed. Destroying an embryo involves thawing that precious little life….and then letting it die right there on the table.

I can’t stomach it. 

This is where embryo adoption comes in.  There is no cost to the genetic family, and if they choose to donate their embryos to an embryo adoption agency, they suddenly find themselves in a situation very similar to a birth parent in a domestic adoption.  They get to choose the family who will adopt their embryos through a mutual selection process, and they get to specify what kind of adoption plan they want to write; open, closed, or anywhere in between. 

To adoptive parents, embryo adoption is unique in that the mama gets to carry her baby in her womb.   When the baby is born, the adoptive parents are the only names on the birth certificate.  Legally speaking, the genetic parents have no claim to any baby born after the embryos transfer hands.

So what does the process look like for us?

First, we complete a home study.  Our home study is the exact same study that would be completed for a domestic or international adoption, with the same costs.  After we have a completed home study, we will create a family profile to be shown to genetic families.  From there, it’s a mutual selection process.  Genetic families will be shown our profile, and if they choose us, their family/embryo profile will be sent to us.  In essence, we’ll choose each other.  Once a match has been made, the legal paperwork is completed regarding the adoption of the embryos, and we make arrangement to have them shipped to our fertility clinic OR we can travel to them.  It takes about two months to prep my body for a frozen embryo transfer, and a day for the FET to take place.  All in all, it’s a 5-13 month process to transfer day, and then….9 months to deliver a baby. 

Like I said, our heart are incredibly tender to embryo adoption.  In fact, the agency we are adopting through is the same agency we had planned to use should anything have happened to me/us and I hadn’t been able to go back for all of our own babies.   We had a plan in place for their safety through adoption, and now we find ourselves on the other side of the table. 

The obvious fear with embryo adoptions is that the embryos wouldn’t attach.  That the FET wouldn’t be successful, and we’d walk away at the end of the process with empty arms.  We aren’t naïve to that risk; we’ve been there before.  But God has so clearly and swiftly set our feet upon this path, and we are eager to walk each step with Him as He leads us to baby Tucker.  We are believing in expectation that God will be faithful each step of the way.   

I've long believed that one way God ministers to me in my own life is through music.  Truly.  In some of the biggest valleys of my life, God has spoken to and delivered hope and reassurance to my soul through song.  There are a handful of songs that bring me to tears in an instant; because they remind me of times that God clearly used them to speak to me.  The day after we found out we'd lost the twins, I was driving in my car as the song "Fix My Eyes" came on the radio.  I'm sure I must have heard it dozens of times before, but that day I really listened to the words, and this is what I heard: 
Hit rewind, click delete
Stand face to face with the younger me
All of the mistakes
All of the heartbreak
Here's what I'd do differently, I'd

Love like I'm not scared
Give when it's not fair
Live life for another
Take time for a brother
Fight for the weak ones
Speak out for freedom
Find faith in the battle
Stand tall but above it all
Fix my eyes on You
On You

I learned the lines and talked the talk
But the road less traveled is hard to walk
It takes a soldier
Who knows his orders
To walk the walk I'm supposed to walk

We're on it, Lord.  We're fixing our eyes on You.  This road is hard, and we're afraid of all the what ifs.....but Tucker?  So worth it.  

 

A New Beginning

Dear Tuck,

Hi baby, it’s your mommy.  You and I don’t know each other yet, but your face is already so alive in my heart, and my arms are already aching to squeeze you tight in a giant bear hug.   Someday I hope you’ll read these words and know that you have been loved in every moment.  I hope you’ll know that you were always wanted, and that you were prayed for by name with conviction and passion for years before your birth.  Buddy, your story is being written as I write this.

Your big brother Blake and big sister Lainey talk about you all the time.  Blake prays for you every single night, and we ask God to protect you wherever you are.    Blake says your name in his most precious 3-year-old toddler speak, and it comes out sounding more like “Tuckwer”.  It was daddy who came up with your name.  It was when I was pregnant with your sister, and we had taken a late family walk with your big brother in the stroller.  Daddy and I were dreaming and talking about future names for our babies….and daddy, with a glimmer in his eye and a grin on his face, blurted out the name Tucker.  It was completely out of the blue.  But when I heard it pass through his lips, it was almost like the name lingered there in the still breeze of that warm summer night.  Tucker.  I knew it right away.   You, my precious one, were meant to be part of our family. 

We didn’t know then what path would lead us to you.   God has given all three of you such unique stories;  such God-breathed, beautifully written masterpieces crafted by the Creator of the Universe.    I know that God has something great in store for our littlest Breitenstein; that the plan for your life will be as masterfully written as every delicious detail and plot-twist He’s written for our family through every season of life.  Tuck, know that we’ve been searching for you.  And for a little while, we thought we’d found you.  But before that path led us to you, our precious babies were born into Heaven’s gates.   We grieved that loss completely and intimately, but daddy and I also realized right away that our loss was really just a reminder that we hadn’t found you yet.  Those little loves are your siblings, and someday we’ll all reunite on golden street with incredible shouts of joy….but God’s plan for their lives was never on Earth.  We know that.  As much as we wanted and loved them….they weren’t you.  

And we’ve been waiting for you.

When God laid your name on our hearts, it was almost like he carved a Tucker-sized hole that was literally waiting for your life to fill it—to come and make our family whole.   When we lost our last pregnancy, we prayed.  We cried.  We asked God to open the door that would lead us to you.  And Tuck, he did.   God showed up in that moment and ever so tenderly righted our feet, dusted off our shoulders, and opened the door that we know will lead us to you.

And so now we walk.  Sweet love, we’re coming for you.   Today we were assigned our caseworker, who will walk us through the early steps of your adoption.   We are adopting you as the tiniest of all babies, choosing you and carrying you in the same way I carried your brother and sister.  My love, we are ecstatic to begin walking this road to you, and yet….we’re scared, too.  We’re scared that we might walk through this process and still not find you; that we’ll come home with empty arms.   It’s a terrifying thought because we want you so desperately.  

But Tucker, daddy and I have chosen courage.  Courage to go where led and to fight for you.   We know you’re worth it.  We know God has set our feet on this path and we will walk it for Him, and we will walk it to you.   

Sometimes faith means trusting that God’s view squashes our Polaroid.  Sometimes it means boldly walking where others might not choose to go, and always it means rejecting our humanity and choosing to yield control to the One who so intimately holds us in His hands.  Tuck, sometimes faith means jumping when you can’t clearly see the landing spot.   It's a little bit terrifying, but oh what a view on the way down…and what a reward when you find yourself standing with two feet planted squarely on the mountaintop.   I think that’s what it truly means to put feet to your faith.      

So Tuck?  We’re jumping.   

Just a few hours ago, I got hopelessly lost while trying to pick up a pair of pants for your brother from someone's front porch, and as I pulled u-turns in driveways and drove up and down the same street over and over, peering at addresses and clearly searching for something very specific....Blake piped up from the backseat "What are we doing, mommy??  Are we looking for Tucker?  Is he coming home today??"

Do you see?  It's you.  We all know it.    And we won't stop until we find you.    

A Man After God's Heart

I posted here a little bit about Blake's dedication, which happened last Sunday at my home church.  I shared in my original post that the dedication was our opportunity, as Blake's parents, to publicly proclaim our desire and intention to raise this little boy in accordance to God's laws.  Moreover, to raise this little one with full knowledge that He is a gift bestowed upon us by the grace of the Father, as He has entrusted us with His precious child. 

That's a tremendous responsibility, and I take it very seriously. 

That Sunday, standing in front of the congregation, we made a promise before God to raise this child up in the way he should go.  And I want to be very intentional about that.  I want to be intentional in the things I do and say, prayerfully intervening on my son's behalf and striving daily for my walk to mirror the walk I want to portray to my son. Because I know that he'll be watching, and it will only be through the grace of God that my life will be used to mold his. 

So, in light of all that, I've decided to start something new on this blog.  Someday I'm going to take all of the entries from this blog and turn them into a book for my precious son.  Because this is his story.  I want him to be able to read my words and know, in this moment and in this time, that his daddy and I are madly in love with him, and more importantly, that we are purposefully and intentionally raising him up to know his Savior.   It's the best gift we can give him, and we want to do it well.  Raising a son is a special privilege and honor, because someday Blake will grow up and use his life and his relationship with God to lead a family of his own.   

And so I've decided to start sharing a Bible verse a week, each one depicting a characteristic of a godly life.  These are for my son.  These are the life lessons I want to impart to him, because they aren't truly mine at all....they're His. 

 _________________________________________________________________________

You received without paying; give without pay.

Matthew 10:8

Blake, this is so important for you to remember.  It is by the grace of the Father alone than you have received the most precious of all gifts: eternal life.  This gift was given to you, and all humanity, for free.  There's nothing you can do to earn it, and in our humanity we are simply unworthy of the blessing. And yet, none of that matters.  Your Heavenly Father loves you so much that He chose to pay the price for your sins.  He died so that He could know you, and so that you could know Him.  That's pretty incredible, and I hope you take the time to marinate on the magnitude of that love.  You'll never know anything else like it.  

I chose this verse in Matthew for you because I want you to always remember to use your life as an extension of the grace you have received.  Live it out loud.  Not for earthly rewards, not for accolades or admiration, but out of love for the Father.  Give because you have also received.  Do everything you do not for the glory of you, but for the glory of God.  And always remember, this earth is not your home.  Your reward will forever be in Heaven....your eternal home.  

I love you, and I'm proud of you.

The Call

I’m sitting here listening to Praise Baby while my (almost) six month old stands at his play table, mesmerized by the music and momentarily hitting the pause button on what has become a mode of constant motion.  

And I’m taking this unexpected downtime to detox in the form of blogging.  Because lately, I’ve been finding myself with a whole lot of thoughts.

I’m not sure what started it.  I’m not sure what series of events played out first, because looking back, everything seems so connected.  I can’t really describe it.  I know I can’t, because I’ve tried and haven’t been able to find the words.  And that’s rare for me.  Because I’m nothing if not a words girl.

I guess all I can really say is this: my heart is changing.  It’s opening.  I feel convicted in a way that I’ve never felt convicted before. 

And it’s all about The Call.

It’s irrevocable. 

As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received.  Ephesians 4:1

Amen, right? 

I feel like we talk about it a lot.  'We' meaning Christians.  There’s a whole lot of lip service being dedicated to talking up The Call.

But you know what?  Reading that verse in Ephesians makes my heart clench.  I do the jitterbug with my eyebrows and cringe.  Because, let’s be honest…how often do I take a step back and evaluate my life?  Do a quick check-in with my inner self?

Hi Mandy, how’s it going?  You doing all you can each and every day to live a life filled with the grace of the Father?  Are you showing His love to this dark world?  What specifically have you done today?  This week?  This year? ….Have you even cracked open your Bible today? 

Uh.  Do I have to answer that?

It wouldn’t be pretty.

And I’m certainly not proud of the answer. 

I’m feeling convicted.  I feel like I’ve been sitting in a boat, anchored in the storm while I let the waters churn and turn all around me.  I’ve got a life vest snugly fastened around my chest and a raincoat hood over my ears.  I’m comfortable.  But I see the waters, and my heart understands that I’ll never get to my destination if I don’t move. 

I feel like I'm slowly giving up my seat in the middle row and starting to scoot towards the outside.  I want to jump into the deep end knowing that I can’t swim.   

I want to get uncomfortable so that I can learn to tread water.

I want to trust. I want to ditch the life vest and live with a reckless abandon for the things of this world, because I don’t need them.  I want to put feet to my faith because that’s what we are called to do.  No more lip service.

I want to share this blog post.  I read it last week by accident.  I’ve never read this person’s blog before, but I stumbled upon it quite randomly.  But this post hit me head on.  I love her heart.  I love her story and her passion.  

Truth be told, I’m still processing.  I was so moved that I shared it with Adam, and after he had read it, I told him that I felt like God was peeling back another layer of my life onion.  I know, you’re probably reading that with the same scrunched up face that Adam had on last night.  Life onion??

My life onion is a work in progress.  Each layer that gets peeled stings, it can get a little uncomfortable, and more often than not leaves me feeling a little weepy.  Because every layer that’s peeled away leaves me just that much more raw.  More vulnerable.  But, in the end, I know that the best part of me is beneath everything on the surface.  And I know God is planning to make something amazing out of the finished product.  Those cracked and peeling layers are no good for the final masterpiece.  They’d ruin it.  I have to let them go, even when it leaves me bleary eyed. 

Get it?  Life onion. 

As I processed with Adam last night, we talked about why it’s so hard to live a life worthy of The Call.  And what it exactly means to live that life.  We came to the basic conclusion that we are called to love the lost, to care for those who cannot care for themselves, to look on the broken with the rose-colored glasses of the Father, and to live today with eternity in our sights. 

We are called to fight the “good fight of faith” (I Timothy 6:12).

We are called “to glory and virtue” (II Peter 1:3)

We are called to the “pure and genuine religion” of caring for the orphans and widows (James 1:27)

We are called to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God (Micah 6:8)  

That last verse is a personal favorite. 

Act justly.

Love mercy.

Walk humbly with your God.

I want that. But it’s hard.  Adam and I agreed that, at least for us, following that Call is just uncomfortable.  It can put you in awkward situations.  It can burst personal space bubbles and put you on the spot.  Like really on the spot.  Try as we might to live our lives transparently and fully—leaning in and listening—we looked at each other last night and acknowledged what we were both thinking: we’re still very comfortable.  

And I think that means we’re not there yet. 

God calls us to do big things.  Loving a lost world should never be, and will never be, comfortable.  That’s just the nature of the beast.  Literally.

And so we held hands and prayed.  We renewed our commitment to living the life that we have been called to, and I know God is moving.  It’s scary, it’s exciting, and it’s uncomfortable....

...so I’m pretty sure we’re on the right track.

Once our eyes are opened, we can't pretend we don't know what to do. God who weighs our hearts and keeps our souls, knows that we know and holds us responsible to act..

Proverbs 24:12

One more thing....

Today, Adam and I realized something that was pretty amazing.

Our due date, 8/24/2011, is exactly five years from the day that Adam asked me to marry him (8/24/2006).  Can I get an amen?

I don't know how I managed to miss that for a good solid week, but when it hit me today I couldn't help but laugh out loud as I thanked God for his incredible faithfulness.  Seriously.  How cool is that?  All my silly little plans, all my prayers that started with "you know God, this would be a GREAT month for a baby, because nine months from now is...."  and now this.  I couldn't have picked a more perfect day to welcome a baby into the world, and of course, God knew that all along.  He has (again) revealed His sovereignty and faithfulness in my life.  What a mighty God we serve!!!

"May Your unfailing love be my comfort, according to Your promise to your servant."

Psalms 119:6

Catching Up

This post is going to be my attempt at catching up on all the excitement of the past few weeks.  And prepare yourselves...because it's a long one!!  

I'm starting (instead of ending) with a prayer request..because this post is long, and if you read nothing else I want you to read this!!

Prayer Request

Adam and I knew from the beginning of this process that we would not wait until after the first trimester to share the news of our pregnancy.  How could we?  We’ve asked you to pray with us and to walk this journey alongside us.  We have been so touched at how deeply so many of you have felt this right alongside us.  Not just the low moments, but also the incredible highs.  My heart was so full of love on Thursday, even before we found out, as I read your texts, emails and comments sharing your own excitement and anticipation of the results we had yet to receive.  You have felt this with us, and we are touched.
 

As of today, I’ve five weeks along.  I know that qualifies me as just a teeny-tiny bit pregnant.   I also know that the first trimester can be a dangerous time for growing babies.  And so, our greatest prayer request is that you just cover (smother!) our babies with prayers.  That you join us in praying God’s protection over them as they grow and mature inside of me, and that they be delivered safely into our waiting arms in August.  

Adam and I have claimed this verse for these babies, and have been praying it over them every night:

“He tends to His flock like a shepherd, He gathers the little lambs in His arms, He carries them close to His heart.” Isaiah 40:11

Will you join us in praying that God will gather these little lambs in His arms and carry them close to His heart?  That His mercy and grace will cover their lives from head to toe, and that He will guarantee their continued health and safety over the next 8 months?

Fertilization Report

On Tuesday, December 7^th we got our final fertilization report.   

Apparently the first time around there had a bit of a miscommunication, because out of the 15 that fertilized, the 13 babies we thought had made it to culture was actually only 12.  The others had never divided.

Those 12 were then placed in culture for five days.  On the day of our transfer (culture day 5), we had two blastocysts that were healthy and strong and ready for a shot in the baby-maker!  Those are the two that were transferred, and we now know, (at least one) attached to the uterine wall. 

At that time, the embryologist told us that we had several that had not divided since day 2.  She explained that they had “arrested”—meaning, they were no longer growing.  She also told us that we had a few others that had begun to degenerate; again, they were no longer dividing.  We also had some that looked great—that were on the verge of becoming blasts and were healthy and happy in their culture environment. 

After talking about it with our doctor, we decided to hold the “on the verge” embryos in culture for an extra two days to see if they would divide any further.  Adam and I made it clear that any division—and we didn’t care if we were talking one cell a week—indicated a living baby and we were determined to give it a shot at life.  The embryologist told us it was “improbable” that these babies would ever attach and be born.  We told her our God is the miracle-maker, and as long as these babies are dividing, they are alive and precious to us.  She agreed to do as we had asked, and freeze any baby that was dividing...regardless of how fast.

Two days after the transfer, we got the call with the final fertilization report.  Originally, our doctor had told us to expect that about 1/3 of the fertilized embryos would make it to be transferred and/or frozen.  That is just the natural atrophy rate that they undergo.  For us, out of our original 12 in culture, we transferred two and froze four….for a total of 6. 

When I got that news, I immediately felt hot little tears running down my face.  I was thrilled with the healthy embryos (all four that were frozen had made it to blasts) but was also mourning the loss of our other precious babies.  I was already in love with them.   

I called Adam, who called OHSU, and we asked for more information about those that we’d lost.  I wanted to know everything about their lives, and everything about how they had died.  We learned that three had degenerated to the point where no cell division was happening, and the embryo itself was losing its cellular integrity. The other three had all arrested—they were held in culture until day 7 (at our request), and those three hadn’t divided since day 2.   That gave us the closure we needed.  We believe that life begins at conception, and because we believe that, we also believe that God has already welcomed these precious babies back into His arms….and someday, when we get to heaven, we’ll meet them.  Between now and then, I rest in the knowledge that they are in the presence of their Father.  And I've asked Him to give them a giant hug from us. 

So now here we are.  We’ve got babies (hopefully two) in the oven, and four in the frozen nursery.  We pray for all six of those babies on a daily basis, and we ask that you join us. 

December 16, 2010

As you already know, December 16^th was a day that forever changed our lives.

At 7:30AM, we had an appointment at OHSU to have blood drawn.  It was a quick appointment—just a needle stick—and then we were headed back to Salem with the understanding that we would hear the news (pregnant or not pregnant) after 2PM. 

Adam and I both went to work.  Since we wouldn’t hear until late in the afternoon, there was no reason to take the whole day off.  Instead, we both took a half-day, and after a very anxious morning, I picked up Adam from work and we went and had lunch.  By the time we had finished eating, it was a little after 1, and before heading home we decided to take a drive and tour the tornado damage in and around Aumsville.  We had just gotten into Shaw (about five minutes from our house) when my phone started to ring.  It was only 1:46.  My heart was pounding out of chest. 

It was OHSU.

I frantically told Adam to pull the car over, and as soon as it was in park, I thrust my phone into his hands and told him he had to answer.  From the moment he picked up the phone, I knew it was good news. 

Is this Adam?

Yes

Adam, this is Christie.  I have your test results.  Are you ready…?

(deep breath, eyes locked with mine) We’re ready

Mandy’s pregnant!!!

(tears, tears, and more tears)

She gave us some other information—my beta level was 144 and my progesterone level was 20 (both good)—and made another appointment for a second blood test to check my levels the following Monday. 

But I wasn’t really paying attention to any of that, because I had just found out I was pregnant.   

Adam hung up the phone, we prayed prayers of thanksgiving—tears falling, hearts soaring, love abounding—and held each other for a long moment.  What precious time.  After more than a year of waiting, hoping and praying…our Almighty God, in His goodness and love, absolutely delivered.  He walked us through the valley and put our feet on top of the mountain.  He is worthy of ALL our praise!!

After that, we needed to tell our family.  I had told my parents the week before that I was taking a half-day so that I could surprise Adam with the news while he was at work.  However, in reality, this was a set-up so Adam and I could surprise my parents with the news.  Since this process hasn’t exactly been secretive, it was really the only way we’d have the opportunity to announce our pregnancy. 

The first phone call I made was to my mom.  She was out shopping.  I told her that I didn’t want to get the call from OHSU all alone, and asked if she would meet me at my parent’s house to wait it out with me.  Of course she agreed. 

Then, we drove to my dad’s office.  Adam called him and told him I was having car trouble at school—something about the alternator—and asked if he could borrow my dad’s truck to go help me out (we carpool to work).  Of course my dad agreed, and said he’d meet Adam in the parking lot to hand off the keys.  When he came out of the building, I was standing in the bushes and Adam was on the opposite side.  He saw Adam immediately.  As he handed Adam the keys, he started asking about what was wrong with the car and offering his jumper cables…..

The whole time he was talking, Adam was grinning at him with this stupid grin on his face. 

I think my dad was starting to wonder what was up, and he looked over his shoulder to see what Adam kept looking at.  That’s when he saw me.  He knew immediately.  He enveloped me in his arms as we told him he was going to be a grandpa.  What a special, precious moment.

Then we drove to my parent’s house to meet my mom.  We decided that I would go in first, and after a few minutes, Adam would follow.   So I went inside, found my mom at the kitchen table, and started chatting with her about the day.  She was so anxious and excited to hear the news. 

We had just started discussing whether or not we should do some shopping while we waited when Adam walked in the door.  My mom knew immediately.  She screamed, cried, and held us both in gigantic hugs. 

After we had celebrated a while, my mom informed me with a smile that she had already known.  She said she had been driving to the dog groomer earlier in the day when tears just started rolling down her face.  She knew then.  God has told her, placed in on her heart, that I was pregnant. 

It was such a gift to be able to celebrate with my precious parents.

After that, it was a whirlwind of phone calls.  I had been desperately trying to get hold of my brother at work, and Adam had been busy calling all of his family and filling them in.  Everyone was excited.  We felt so blessed and so loved. 

Recent Updates

On Monday, we were back up at OHSU at 7:30 to have everything confirmed with a second blood test.  They wanted to see my hormone levels rising appropriately, and just like last time, told us we’d get the news after 2PM.  

We were thrilled to find out that my hormone levels had risen from 144 on Thursday to 754 on Monday.  They were only looking to see a 60% increase from Thursday to Monday, and clearly, we exceeded that. 

Now we are anxiously anticipating 10AM on January 3^rd, when we will hear the heartbeat and see how many babies are currently in the oven.  We’re praying for two—that’s how many we put in, and that’s how many we want out!

In Your Arms

So here I am, working out in my garage, running along on my treadmill to the worship station on Pandora that I created a few weeks ago....and on comes this song.  And I had to stop and listen.



I'm claiming this song, these lyrics, as my personal love song for my Savior.  For this journey.

I'm letting my fears go, giving You control
For You are the one that holds me closer in my soul's darkest night
Everything I see is so temporary
So help me to run the race before me
With eternity in sight

Now I close every door
And put my face back on the floor
And I'm in Your arms, where I belong
There's no other place for me than right where You are
Some things just don't change
When I call Your name
You never hesitate to wrap me in endless grace
When I'm in Your arms

Here we go IN VITRO: Week 3

Today, I was offended.

I ran across a very insensitive comment by someone who clearly wanted me to know that they did not believe that in vitro is an acceptable way to start a family for a Christian woman who believes in the sanctity of life. 

My first inclination?  To give this person a piece of my mind.  To get angry, because I was angry.  Words started swirling in my head, oh the things I was going to say!  But even as my eyes began to gleam with the intensity of it all, God squashed the whole thing before it ever left my brain.  It was like He was saying, “Chill, Mandy.  Would you look through my eyes?  I love this person!  You are accountable to me, not anyone else.”

Ah, shoot.  He was right, and I deflated.

So I thought about it.  And the bottom line is I get it. 

Not everyone agrees with the in vitro process. There are a lot of potential concerns.  To answer them, we have worked with our team of doctors to implement constraints aimed at honoring each of our embryos as babies.   If we lose an embryo, we will mourn the loss of our baby. 

Even so, I get that this isn’t the path for everyone. 

But this is our path.  And what a tremendous opportunity we have been given to witness!!  Already, God has given us amazing opportunities for discussion with the doctors and nurses we are working with, and my prayer is that He will continue to do so.  God works in mysterious ways, and praise the Lord that He does.  If this is the road He has laid out in order to bring our babies into the world, then amen and hallelujah.

That being said, I want to offer up an invitation:  If you have questions for me about this process, I love a good discussion. 

Our Story: From the Beginning

Even though I don’t have the ending yet, I think I’m ready to write about the beginning.   

Because we’ve already come so far.  

God has transformed our lives in the past year, and I look back in absolute awe of His tender mercy and love. 

Last October, I went off birth control.  Looking back, I can see how the decision was a lot more about me than it was about Adam.  I was ready.  My internal clock was ticking.  I wanted a baby.  And Adam?  He was scared.  He was trying to figure out how we would financially care for a new baby.  He was being logical, while I was thinking only with my heart.  We weren’t united.

Those first few months were (I now know) filled with trying in vain.  My period never came on time. I’d have one or two days of bleeding, followed by a few weeks of nothing, followed by more intermittent bleeding.  There was no rhyme of reason to any of it.    I’d be on a “period” of some kind for two or three weeks a month; sometimes less, sometimes more.  I knew it wasn’t right. 

I made an appointment with my primary care physician, who sat me down and, with a smile, told me that babies were worth waiting for.  That we should just give it some time—coming off birth control can have weird effects on a menstrual cycle, and we should just wait it out. 

And for about five months, we did. 

During that time, I became obsessed.  I scoured the internet for information on getting pregnant, on irregular menstrual cycles, and on anything else I could point to as a “symptom” I needed to fix.  I charted.  I tracked my cervical mucus changes (I know, ew) and I did anything and everything else that I thought might help me figure out my body. 

I was an emotional wreck.  I was angry.  It seemed like everyone I knew had what I wanted--everyone was getting pregnant and sharing the good news.  And I was selfish.  I’m embarrassed to admit that I locked myself in our bathroom on more than one occasion to sit on the floor and cry myself a pity party over the announcement of a friend’s pregnancy.  I couldn’t see past the end of my own nose—everything was about me. 

That wasn’t a pretty place to be.  I was making myself depressed.  I’d go to work everyday and look at these precious little people and I’d think, “Why not me, Lord?  Why can’t I have that?”  I was hurting, and instead of running to God, I was blaming Him.  I was letting my infertility define me, rather than letting my God define me.  

Finally, in April, we decided that we needed to see a specialist.  My PCP (who is a family practitioner who specializes in family medicine and baby birthing) is a very kind woman, but I just didn’t feel like she was taking me seriously.  She wanted me to wait it out.  She’d smile at me and pat my knee.  She’d remind me how young I was.  I felt like I was in this whole thing alone, and I knew in my heart that it was time to move on from her care. 

So, never having had a OB/GYN before, I did the only thing I could think of: I called every OB/GYN in the phone book and left desperate message after increasingly desperate message begging them to see me.  I was crushed when no one could.

In desperation, I finally just googled “infertility specialist in Portland”.  I knew that my options in Salem were slim to none.  The first link that popped up for was the OHSU Fertility Specialists.  After poking around on their website for a while, I was quickly convinced that I needed an appointment with these people.  Little did I know that getting one would be no small miracle in itself.

The day I called, a wonderful woman at the front desk (who I now know quite well) answered in the affirmative to my question of whether or not they were accepting patients.  After I stopped hyperventilating, I explained—in probably way too much detail—our need for fertility help and begged for an appointment.   She told me that we were probably looking at needing to schedule at least a couple months out.  My heart sank, but I told her that I’d just be willing to take any appointment she could find. 

Imagine my shock when I heard a slight hesitation, then her voice telling me that an appointment had just opened up for Monday (this was the Friday before) at 8AM.  She asked if I wanted it.  Did I want it?  Oh sweet Jesus, give me the appointment!! 

I called Adam absolutely frantic with excitement.  We were finally going to see someone who could help us.

At this point, I don’t think I was really taking this seriously.  Yeah, we were having trouble getting pregnant, but I didn’t seriously think anything was wrong with me.  I thought it would be an easy fix; maybe some fertility medications and then we’d be good to go. 

At our first appointment at OHSU, our doctor (who graduated Cum Laude from YALE…how’s that for a confidence builder?) asked us all sorts of questions to learn about our lifestyle.  When we answered that we’d only had one sexual partner (each other), didn’t smoke or drink, and had never done illegal drugs, his jaw pretty much hit the floor.  At least we could cross “undiagnosed STDs” off the list as potential problems in our baby quest. 

That appointment consisted of blood draws to test for all sorts of things—thyroid function, androgen production, presence of FSH, etc. etc.  It also consisted of my very first-ever vaginal ultrasound.  I’ll spare you those details—let’s just say the probe looks like a microphone and they stick it up where the sun don’t shine.  Oh boy!

What that initial ultrasound revealed shattered my belief that everything was fine.  My little ovaries looked like this:

Normal ovaries should look like this:

The black spots on the ultrasound images are follicles.  My ovaries were polycystic.  Meaning, lots of follicles (what holds the egg…think of it as a launch pad) but none being stimulated to maturity each month. Basically, if you think of each ovary like a baseball field, there should only be one player up to bat at a time.  In my ovaries, I had the whole team standing at home plate trying to hit a home run simultaneously….and nobody was connecting with the ball. 

My doctor’s initial thought was that I had PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome), but he hesitated because I didn’t have any of the clinical signs of the disease.  I’m not obese, I don’t produce excess androgens (male hormones) and I don’t have excessive facial hair (oh thank you sweet Jesus).  So what he ended up concluding was that, while my ovaries are most definitely polycystic, I do not have PCOS.  What does that mean?  We don’t know exactly.  The treatment for polycystic ovaries is the same as the treatment for PCOS, so while my doctor knew exactly what direction we needed to go, my official diagnosis was polycystic ovaries and unexplained infertility. 

Unexplained infertility.  I find that fascinating, because by the very nature of that diagnosis God is being glorified.  Science can’t explain why my ovaries are polycystic, and why I am unable to fertilize an egg naturally.  Science can’t explain it, because life is miraculous. God’s plan for the creation of life is absolutely beyond comprehension; it blows my mind.  Let me share with you some information I learned during this stage in the journey:

Each month, you have a 2-3 day window during which you are actually fertile.  This is the period after the egg has been released from the follicle and pushed out of the ovary.  The egg is only viable outside the ovary for a period of 24 hours before it dies.  So, the 2-3 day window really refers to the time frame during which you can have intercourse and have a reasonable chance of live sperm meeting a live egg.   Finding your “window” is, in itself, an extremely complicated math problem that proves almost impossible unless you are ridiculously regular.  There are minute changes in hormone levels that can be detected through ovulation tests and daily temperature charting, but by the time you pick up these changes, it’s usually too late.  You’ve already ovulated. 

Even for those who chart everything correctly and pinpoint the right days of the month during which you are fertile, you’re far from a sure thing.  Under ideal circumstances, where the sperm and the egg meet and the timing is perfect, you only have a 20% chance of becoming pregnant.  That’s in perfect conditions. 

That doesn’t even begin to touch on the number of “chemical pregnancies” that occur--and are lost--before you ever know you were pregnant.   

Are you beginning to wonder how “accidental” pregnancies can possibly happen?  It’s miraculous and can only be attributed to our Mighty God. 

The female reproductive system is an amazing baby-making machine.  And science just can’t explain it.  Even in the IVF process, the doctors can only go so far as to create an embryo and put it into the uterus.  They cannot force it to attach.  They don’t know how. They don’t understand how that process works.  The miracle of life can be unraveled only by God himself. 

After our initial consultation, our doctor put us on Clomid—a fertility drug—to force my ovaries to stimulate an egg.  I started on 50mg.  That first month, we were disappointed to find out that the Clomid did not work.  Our monthly ultrasounds revealed my largest follicle at only 8mm on cycle day 21.  Normal cycles ovulate on or near day 14 and the optimum follicle size for ovulation is 22mm.  As you can see, I wasn’t even close.

We were so discouraged, but it was at this point that God began pulling at my heart—mending the broken pieces and stitching it together to mirror His.  God was revealing to me His plan for this journey, and I began to long for time spent with Him.  I felt His presence in a way I’ve never felt it before, in a way that can only be found through complete surrender and dependence.  I felt like God was asking me to walk this journey for Him, to use our story as a mouthpiece for His glory, and to rest in the knowledge that He would be there each step of the journey.  I started this blog that very day. 

It was also during this time that I sat with my husband in the parking lot at his work for two hours, talking and praying with him as he made the decision to rededicate his life to the Lord.  A few weeks later, I watched as he was baptized. 

Coincidence?  No.  God’s remarkable grace.

The next month, we were put on 100mg of Clomid, and for two months, it worked.  My ovaries were stimulated enough to produce an egg, and although I don’t produce the hormone that triggers ovulation, I was able to take a shot subcutaneously (injected under the skin on my stomach) to force the egg to release.  Despite our success in ovulation, we were not successful in achieving pregnancy. 

I think this almost takes us up to today.  As you know, last month the Clomid decided not to work.  That’s the “unexplained” portion of our infertility rearing its ugly head.  At our last appointment for that month, my doctor gave us the bleak news that he didn’t expect Clomid to work.  Our chances for achieving a pregnancy this way had taken a nosedive. 

And that led us to IVF.  I’ll be honest; we were terrified.  I knew next to nothing about the process, and I had visions of discarded embryos and sextuplets dancing in my head.  But again, God’s grace reached us even in that place of fear.  His grace led us to the home of a precious family that had experienced IVF before, who had built their family through this miraculous therapy, and who were willing to come alongside us and minister to us as brothers and sisters in Christ.  It can only be described as God moment.  And a powerful one at that.

In talking with this couple, and reading their blog, we realized that the doctor who had performed their IVF procedures years before was the same doctor who would be doing ours.  They were one and the same.  And they brought up the point that maybe, just maybe, this journey isn’t about us.   

And that’s powerful. 

It’s powerful to step outside your own little world and look at the big picture.  Maybe Adam and I have a role to play in someone else’s story.  It’s certainly not a coincidence that our doctor has encountered two couples who love the Lord and are committed to honoring Him through the IVF process.  It’s certainly not a coincidence. 

My prayer is that God uses us in a mighty way, to bring about a saving knowledge of who He is and of His unfailing love.  My prayer is to be used as a mouthpiece; that I may reflect His love in all that I say and do. 

And, of course, I pray for a baby Breitenstein :)

Today, all the fear and anxiety of the early days has been replaced with joy. And that’s a God thing.  The strength I’ve found to face this giant does not come from me. “It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect.” 2 Samuel 22:33

Today, Adam and I are, to the very core of our being, united on this journey. We’re united in our deepest desire to be parents.  To have little precious babies call us mommy and daddy.  We’re ready. 

I feel like God has taken us on a yearlong honeymoon—inviting us to know Him, to rest in Him, and to trust Him. He has ministered to my heart and given me an intimate and tender knowledge of who He is.  I am forever grateful.  I am forever changed. 

And I wouldn’t trade a single moment.  I can’t wait to see what’s ahead, to meet my babies, and to share each step of the journey with you.