Fall 2020
I end the phone call with the doctor confident in our decision to move forward with treatment, completely ignorant to what the treatment entailed. It wasn’t until I heard from the nurse a few days later where we had a plan in place – ovulation induction using Letrozole, a pill that stimulates follicle production and development to release an egg for ovulation.
The treatment was very low maintenance – I took a pill for five days at the beginning of my menstrual cycle, I had an ultrasound to confirm if the follicles were growing, and once they reached a certain size I took a “trigger” shot which released the egg. Other than a few pills, one shot, and a few appointments, our only instructions were to go home and have some fun. This isn’t so bad after all, I thought. After ovulation was confirmed we entered into our first two week wait – which at the time was an exciting two weeks filled with anticipation and wonder.
Our excitement was short lived as the two weeks came to an end with the start of my period. Though disappointed, we reminded ourselves that this treatment gave us the same odds at pregnancy as if I were ovulating on my own. It was like rolling dice – the more times we rolled, the better our chances – so with that mindset, we moved into round two. High hopes and expectations quickly shattered as my period arrived a few weeks later. However, like a game of chance, we rolled right into round three hoping for a better outcome. After all, the medication was working and my body was responding beautifully, as the nurse stated.
It was the Saturday after Christmas and we were staying the night at my in-laws. Scott and his brothers were playing cards in the kitchen and I was laying in bed with my mind racing a mile a minute. In just a few days we would officially find out the outcome of our third cycle. I did not need my period to start or the doctor’s confirmation, because I already knew this cycle did not work. When I told Scott earlier in the day that I had a feeling this round failed, we agreed we would give it a fourth try – but as I lie in bed with my thoughts racing, I begin to think otherwise. I sent Scott a text message to come in the bedroom and within seconds the door propped open, he peeks inside and asks is everything ok?
Before he can fully enter the room I begin talking faster than my mind was racing. Why would we move forward with a fourth round of this? If it didn’t work in the first three, why would it work in the fourth? What if the doctors are right and IVF is our best option? What if we have a child with DMD? I’m tired of leading with my heart when I’m constantly letting us down. I want to do what the doctor says. Let’s do IVF. He makes his way closer and eases in the bed. It’s okay if this round does not work, he calmly says, it’s okay if we need to do IVF, and I trust and support whatever you want to do. Remember what you told the doctor? Everything will be okay, and I want you to believe it. He’s right, and his reassurance is exactly what I needed. The salt-to-earth, the calm to my storm. At last, I finally relax and within a few deep breaths – I fall asleep.
January 2021
It’s been a week since our third round of treatment failed and we were eager for the next steps. To our surprise, our doctor encouraged us to reach out to the military hospital who has a state of the art IVF program that will work with our insurance. It may require extra traveling, but this is an excellent program and a feasible option for you two, he explained.
I made the phone call, explained the situation, and they were quick to respond with an estimate. We were instructed to fill out initial paperwork, send over any previous test results, and sign up for orientation. After we spend a few days gathering results from the previous clinic and filling out the tedious paperwork, we pressed submit and were told to sit back and wait to hear from a nurse within two weeks.
At last, we feel a weight lifted off our shoulders. We have a plan in place, this time it’s the plan that’s going to get us pregnant. I’m able to put fertility treatments on the back burner of my busy mind for the first time in several months. Perhaps it was what I needed to pay attention to the shift happening around me.
–
It’s the second week in January and we are on our way home from a road trip visiting my brother and sister-in-law. It’s Sunday morning and we’re making the two hour drive home, dressed in purple with Scott blaring his pump-up playlist as the Ravens play the Titans in their first playoff game of the season in just a few hours. I’m looking out the window observing the number eight at nearly every glance. First, it’s a license plate with 88 and then it’s exit 8, and finally it’s a telephone number on the back of a truck with nearly all 8s.
I think back to a memory from several weeks prior when Scott and I were in the two-week wait of round two of treatment. We were sitting across from each other at the dinner table finishing the last few bites of our carry-out sushi. Let’s play a game, I say, I’m going to see what our due date will be if this round works, and if the date is on our fortune cookie, we’re pregnant. I pull up a due-date-calculator through Google and enter my cycle information which says our estimated due date is August 22nd. I open the fortune cookie and read aloud, better an egg today than a hen tomorrow. I look at Scott and chuckle, an egg today is definitely referring to my egg, so yes, of course we’re pregnant. We laugh it off, I turn the fortune over, and I gasp as I see the first two numbers: 8 22.
I snap out of the memory abruptly as Scott’s excitement for the game grows as his playlist gets more intense and the song gets louder. I pull out my phone and Google ‘what does it mean when a number keeps following you?’ I glance down at my phone, my eyes locking onto two simple words I’ve never spoken together before: angel numbers.
I turn the volume down and start reading aloud “some people believe that angel numbers have spiritual significance and are messages from the universe” – I then say – the number 8 is following me. I think it might be my angel number. He immediately puts two hands on the wheel, starts to shake his arms back in forth gripping the wheel tighter and yells in excitement: that’s right babyyyy! Number 8 is Lamar Jackson and we’re going to the superbowlllllllllll!!!! I laugh, but sure enough, hours later we win the game against the Titans and are indeed one step closer to the big game.
That following weekend we are hanging out with Scott’s brother and his fiance. We’re sitting around their table playing a simple version of Blind Man’s Bluff where we each put a card on our foreheads and go around the table trying to guess the card we’re holding up. The first round begins and I guess 8 of Diamonds, and to my surprise, I’m correct! That was lucky, and my luck continues the next round when I guess 8 of Hearts. My brother in law, M, yells she’s cheating! She can see her reflection! while my sister-in-law questions how the hell that happened twice in a row. Scott looks at me with a smirk, it’s her angel number, he says, it’s following her! The night carried on and while nobody gave a second thought to the coincidence in the card game, it was all I could think about for not just the evening, but the following days. I began to wonder, what if it isn’t the universe showing me a sign, but instead Coralee?
I had an acupuncture appointment where I began the session telling R about all of the coincidences in my angel number. In a vulnerable moment I share with her that I have been using my sessions as a chance to meditate and to connect to my angel Coralee. I share with her that I’m starting to experience doubts with pursuing IVF. It feels like a dark cloud above my head whenever I think about starting this process, almost as if it’s not a part of our plan. But I can’t keep following my heart, because what if it leads us down the wrong path? After an emotional introduction, I go back into the room and await her to administer the needles. I’m going to ask Coralee for a sign. I need to feel that we are doing the right thing.
The week comes and goes, like they all do, and one day driving home from work it dawns on me that it’s been three weeks since I heard from the new clinic. I recall being told I’d hear back within two weeks, and even though I’m having doubts, I’d rather it end on my terms. I send a follow-up email to the coordinator, and my jaw drops at the response.
Sorry for the delay….
We had a sprinkler that discharged in our operating room which caused extensive water damage to our clinic. With that being said, we have placed a hold on scheduling, until we know when we can safely resume. The repairs could take a minimum of three months.
I forward the email to Scott, and he replies, well you asked for a sign and there it is! While the news for the clinic was devastating for some, we were fortunate we were only in the orientation phase. I sigh in relief. For now, it’s off the table and life carries on. The Ravens lost their final game of the season to the Buffalo Bills and now that football is over, winter begins.
–
I practice meditating at home and begin to read books regarding fertility and spirituality, like The Energetic Fertility Method by Nancy M. Mae and Spirit Babies by Walter Makichen. There’s a mind-over-matter internal shift happening within. Perhaps it’s the peace I am feeling for the first time in our journey as a result of the meditations. I start to look at life through a new lens filled with gratitude and appreciation. I no longer feel bitter about our infertility journey and it’s a blissful feeling.
Business continues to improve as Covid precautions change and more people are returning to the office. The woman we hired to help run the front of the house, U, has been my anchor for the last several months. She’s working at the Cafe part-time while completing her RYT-500, the intense training and certification to become a Yoga Master. Her presence radiates peace and calm, even through the challenging moments like a lunch rush. One day, though, her demeanor was off. I gave her space and grace throughout the day, knowing just how many off-days I experienced in the past several months. The end of the day approached and I was anxiously closing the Cafe as I knew I had to rush out for my acupuncture appointment. U finishes wrapping trays of cookie dough for tomorrow’s bakery display and makes a loud frustrating grunt.
Are you ok, U? I ask with concern.
No. I’m not ok! Lindsay, I need to tell you something.
I close my eyes and hold my breath as I fear that she’s about to tell me she’s leaving the job. I don’t share this with many people, but I have no choice. Have you ever heard of a clairaudient medium?
My eyes open in complete surprise. This was not what I was expecting. It’s a medium, but instead of seeing things, I hear them. Have you ever heard of angel numbers?
I swear at this moment my heart skips a beat, hell, maybe even stops. I nod my head no, as if I’m too embarrassed to admit that angel numbers have consumed me for the last several weeks.
They’re messages sent from loved ones in the form of numbers. Well, all damn day every time you’re next to me someone is screaming these three numbers to me.
The anticipation builds as I prepare for her to say 888, but instead she says three other numbers, for privacy purposes I will say ‘123’. She tells me to Google the meaning of angel number ‘123’ and focus on the message. She then yells out PHEW! Now leave me alone angels!
I race to my computer as fast as my heart beats. The clock is ticking and I am one red light away from being late to this appointment. I quickly type in the search bar what is the meaning of angel number 123 and print the first result I find. I tuck it in my purse and try not to speed to my appointment.
I’m in R’s waiting room bursting with excitement to share what just happened, especially after sharing all of the coincidences at my last appointment. When she enters, I dive right into the story, barely taking a breath between each sentence. I reach into my purse, unfold the paper, and begin to read the message behind these three numbers, which overall preached the virtue in patience. I look up, finally taking a breath, and say isn’t this crazy?
To which she replies,
Those are my house numbers. Maybe it’s time you do see a medium.
