Progress on my 2nd IVF at age 44.

Last Friday, July 16th, I had my egg retrieval. We were not expecting good news. All thru this IVF, there have been only 4 follicles clearly on display, with a couple that may or may not have been follicles.

The week leading up the teh 16th, we uuumed and aaarged over whether to convert the cycle to IUI. My RE thinks that because I've successfully had a baby, that this method could work. But in my heart, I have lost confidence in IUI. We've had 5 - 3 medicated and 2 natural, and none of these have worked. So I took the bull by the horns, got my husband on board, and went with IVF.

As I was in recovery from ER, my husband was waiting there for me, with the news that we retrieved 11 eggs. Shocked and surprised, in the best way possible.

Then, on Saturday morning, we got the call from RE's office that 10 were mature, and 9 fertilized. The RE wants to take these to 5-day blastocysts rather than a 3-day transfer like last time. He thinks the embryos looks good, and feels sure that we'll have a decent number to transfer at day 5. Again, shocked and surprised.

It's now Monday and I'm waiting to hear from RE office, as to how the embryos are growing. I'm feeling like I may possibly have mild OHSS systems, so I let the nurse know, after spending most of the morning researching online.

Also on Saturday, it was m husbands birthday. He turned 48. My birthday was the previous week, and I turned 44. The age is only relevant in terms of my fertility struggles, other than that I don't give a fig. It was our first birthday since our little boy died, and we were feeling desperately sad that he wasn't here with us. I wish I had a stronger faith in God, so that I could believe I will see him again. It's all I wish for. This is a work in progress, this God thing, and I need to give it time and hope that I come around to believing that Dominic's life is not over, and that I will hold my adorable little boy in my arms again.

Missing my funny, silly boy.

Not a day goes by that I don't miss my wonderful little boy Dominic. Grieving and missing him and getting through the day is still minute by minute. I went to Costco this morning, and felt like I was bombarded with reminders of all the things he liked. Yogurt drinks, fruit chews, little boys summer clothes and swim suits, so many reminders of what he was and now is not. Living without him is just getting through the day as best I can, using distractions and trying to keep busy, until I can get some relief from the pain whilst asleep.

I miss you and love you more than words can say, darling boy. Never was a child more loved. My greatest hope now is that you're safe in heaven, in the care of your wonderful Nana, and that we will see each other again. Your Dad firmly believes this, and I hope it's true.

Dealing with family after losing a young child.

This is the first 4th of July since little D died. I'm feeling so sad, so lost and so angry that he's not here. How can my adorable 7 year old boy be missing another holiday? It's not fair.

I got a text from my older sister a couple of days ago. The text ends with a question "tell me what I can do to help." I haven't been able to respond for a couple of reasons. Since little D died, I've felt like the grief and support from her and the rest of my family has been very half hearted, very much on their terms.

For instance, in the first weeks and months after his death, I didn't want to leave the house. I told my sister this, and asked her to visit me (she works about 10 minutes from my house). She came one time, but the second time, she had me pick her up so we could go for lunch. This was a big mistake, trying to be out in public before I was ready was extremely difficult for me, and it put me in bed for the next few days. So, I wasn't about to do that again. I've told my sister that this doesn't work for me; I need to talk about little D, and when I do I cry, so being out in public and trying to eat, that's just not going to happen. When she's asked me to meet for lunch, I've been very firm about not going again. But never has she offered to stop by again - the 10 minutes each way to my house seems to be too much trouble for her.

Two months ago, in May, I accepted a dinner invite at her house, and again, it turned out to be not a good move for me. I was teary, her son had his new girlfriend there who I barely know, it was just not a good evening. I left early, and have no intention of repeating this.

I realize this sounds very ungrateful....really, I do. I was never this person before I lost my son. I was a good girl, a team player, a content Mum. But since his death I am a bottomless pit of need, need that never gets met. No matter what is offered I always want more, more talk of my son, asking how they can help, offers to help with our fundraiser, whatever it is, I'm not getting enough to make me feel better. But at the same time, I don't think I'm being offered even the basics. Weeks go by before I get a call or text from my sister.

Tomorrow my sister is going to England (where the rest of our family lives), for a vacation. I'm beyond livid (here's where the unreasonable piece comes into play again). She's going to stay with one of my younger sisters. On FB all week, there's been communication, planning dinners and drinkfests, and get-togethers, and I am seething with anger. Anger that life goes on for family who are supposed to be grieving. They should be standing with me, as furious as I am for what happened to my son, their nephew.

So I don't suppose I'll respond to the text. There's nothing that I could say to explain exactly how or why I feel like this. Except that my only child, my wonderful little 7 year boy who battled through heart surgeries, chemotherapy for 2 years, and many other horrific procedures, this boy lost his life and it's not fair.