The Wennings

22 Apr The Wennings

It’s 3:00am and I just put one of my boys back to bed after he woke up screaming, again. My husband just rocked our other 11-month old back to sleep an hour ago.

I say, “We are so lucky,” to my husband who is lying awake as I climb back into bed.

“I know,” my husband replies.

Now, most people wouldn’t be happy about being woken up by one screaming child at night, let alone two. However, if you knew our story, then you’d completely understand why we feel blessed to wake up one or more times a night for the past year.

So, let’s go back to the beginning of our story….

Steve and I are high school sweethearts who were married in 2010. I had always dreamed of starting a family with this man and couldn’t wait until we decided to grow our family. In the spring of 2012, we decided after almost 3 years of marriage that we were ready to start trying. I quickly threw out the birth control and waited patiently for time that I could take a test and see those two pink lines. But it never happened.

In August 2012, I went in to the doctor because I was experiencing extreme pain in my abdomen. It was a cyst and not a small one. I had to have surgery to remove it immediately. After this surgery, we had to wait a few months to continue trying to conceive. So, we waited. Once we got the clear, though, I went back to hoping and praying to see those two pink lines each and every month.

Then 2013, came and went.

In 2014, we decided to seek some help. We went to Ohio Reproductive Health in Columbus, Ohio. We didn’t want to go straight to IVF (in-vitro fertilization), so we started with intrauterine insemination (iui). Each month had its medications and shots along with multiple doctor appointments in Columbus. Each month was a failure.

However, I was still hoping and waiting for those two lines to appear. Those two years were very hard on me mentally. I had felt like a failure of a wife and a woman. The one thing that I was made to be able to do, I couldn’t do. The tears would come out of nowhere on some days. I no longer could control my emotions. Holidays were the worst time of year for my husband and I at this time. We would be around well-meaning family members that would always ask, “So when are you going to have kids?” They had no idea that we had been trying for two years without any results. I didn’t want to tell them either, because they all had kids and grandkids and I should be able to, also. I didn’t want to admit my failures. It is so hard to put into words all the emotions that one feels during this time — not only for me but for my husband as well.

2015 began and I changed my focus. Instead of wanting to just grow our family, I wanted to make myself better mentally and physically. I found a gym and started going every day. I worked hard to start seeing myself in a better light. I went back to school in 2014 to occupy my mind and to works towards another goal. These things were important to me, but in the back of my mind I was still hoping and praying for a positive result. After more failed attempts with IUI we decided to give my body and mind a break and stopped seeing our fertility specialist in May of 2015.

In the summer of 2015, I told my doctor about pain I was constantly having with my periods and in between my periods at the urging of my husband. I thought, “Dude, these pains are normal. Every girl has them. I just have to tough them out.” How wrong I was! I was sent to Cleveland Clinic to see a specialist in Endometriosis. I had to have surgery, again. This surgery was harsher on my body, but we did discover that I had Stage IV Endometriosis. This was likely the culprit that was keeping us from obtaining our dreams of a family. I thought I would bounce back after this surgery. I didn’t. It took many months for me to be able to get back to myself and go back to the gym and the doctors. After this surgery, I was told my best bet at having a family would be through IVF (in-vitro fertilization) and that more than likely I would never be able to have kids on my own. So we asked for suggestions on who to go to since we did not want to go back to Columbus. We were turned towards Kettering Reproductive Health and Dr. Bidwell.

In May 2016, we went to have a consultation with Dr. Bidwell to hear his opinion and what our options would be going forward. He confirmed that IVF would be the best route for us to take for chasing our dreams of a family. So, we began the process. I stopped all alcohol and caffeine intake (I was crazy about following every single rule, because I did not want something, I did to be the reason something went wrong). I began medication in June and in July, the shots began. During this time, I didn’t even go on any vacations of any sort, so I didn’t miss any of my injections or times for pills. It was a rough summer. I was taking anywhere from 1 shot a day to 4 or 5 shots a day to get the amounts of medications I needed. Each week I was going in for an appointment to monitor progress. Then the day finally came. We went in to retrieve the eggs the were growing and were told that they were able to take 8 out. Now, normally with IVF there are more like 14-15 eggs, so we were all ready at the low end of things starting out. We prayed and held out for hope. On day 4, they said they had a total of 3 eggs that were even usable. We would implant 2 and then freeze the other. On Day 6, we went in for the implant. Then, we had to wait 2 weeks to take THE test.

It was 2 weeks later (August 7, 2016), and I didn’t want to wait until the next day for our doctor’s appointment to find out if we were going to receive a positive or negative result. I needed to be prepared for it. So, I took a home pregnancy test. I will never forget the JOY that filled me when I saw the results. I ran into our bedroom and woke up Steve and I didn’t have to say anything, he just KNEW. We hugged and cried and dreamed of what our child would be like. We were so ecstatic that day that we knew this secret and nobody else did. The following day, it was confirmed by the doctor that we were finally pregnant after everything we had gone through! A few days later, I had to have another blood test to make sure the HCG (pregnancy hormone) levels were continuing to rise. They were rising, but slowly. My heart started to sink.

On August 25, 2016, we went in for an ultrasound to see if we were possibly miscarrying. Since they implanted 2 embryos, they wanted to check everything out. That day, we came home in tears. We were told the pregnancy was not viable. I was given the option to take a pill to help speed up the miscarriage or to allow it to happen on its own. I was still clinging to hope and that the doctors were wrong about this pregnancy — that God would not bring us this joy after such a storm only to take it away from us. We also found out that I wasn’t going to lose just one child but two. My heart was breaking and I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t know how to help my husband through this time either. We were both suffering so much from this and no one even knew. On Sunday, August 28, 2016, I miscarried our twins. I will never know who they were or who they would have been, but I do know that we loved them so much and had so many dreams for them that would not materialize. It is hard every August now and every April (my due date) because I think about them and who they would be at that time.

We took time to heal and figure out our next steps. I was so scared of going through all of that pain again and didn’t believe I was strong enough to endure it all. The holidays for 2016 were the worst to go through. My brother-in-law and sister-in-law had their daughter in August 2016 and it was the hardest thing for me to see their joy and everyone’s happiness. I know that sounds terrible but I can’t even put into words the emotions I had felt around that time. I was so incredibly happy for them and even more happy that they did not experience the same issues Steve and I had, but at the same time I was still so angry that i was chosen to carry the burden of infertility and miscarriage. At the holidays, we were again asked, “When are you two having kids?” and “She needs cousins!”, etc. Again, I put on a brave face and just replied, “Someday” or “Not yet, we still want to travel,” smiled and continued on to a different subject.

(tattoo I got to represent the two babies I lost)

In January 2017, we held onto hope as we went forward with the steps to implant our frozen embryo. However, on our way to the doctor’s appointment to do so, we received a devastating phone call. We were told that the embryo did not survive the “thawing” process and that we had lost it. We cried the entire way home and tried to comprehend why this was happening to us again. I didn’t understand why God was putting us through everything and was thinking about giving up ever trying again. The pain was too much. The procedures and medications and shots were too much. I decided that I needed a break. I needed to start to feel like myself again and not like a failure of a woman and a wife. So, we waited and I decided that I wanted to try again in May 2017.

I went through the same process as summer of 2016. I went back to the medications, the appointments, the shots and the fear of it not working. However, this time, I decided was not going to put the rest of my life on hold. I was still going to go on vacations and do things that I needed to do to be happy. We were to go in the beginning of June for the egg retrieval. We went, but were told we needed to cancel since there were not enough eggs that were large enough to retrieve. My nightmares were coming true – another failure. The doctor’s said it was because of a different medication they tried, so we could try again in August with our original plan from 2016. So, we waited — again.

Then August 2017 came. I went to the appointments, took the medications, and gave myself the shots (at this time I was no longer afraid of needles and they do not even hurt anymore). In mid-August when we were supposed to go in for the egg retrieval, we were told that we needed to push it back a week or so, to allow my eggs to grow a little more and then we would make the final decision to retrieve or to cancel this round. Luckily, when we went back, they said everything looked great and we scheduled the date for the retrieval. The retrieval was on August 28, 2017 (exactly 1 year from my first miscarriage). I prayed that this was a good sign and to allow everything to be ok. We received a call that they were able to retrieve 12 eggs and that 8 were able to be fertilized. Then on Day 5, we had 4 eggs that were still viable. We went in and were able to implant two and freeze two. The next two weeks were the longest ones of my life. I still had to give myself progesterone shots (which were the worst!) while we waited for the news. This time, I did not take a home pregnancy test. I didn’t want to know ahead of time.

Two weeks were up and I went in for my test. I had to wait ALL day for my results and finally right before the office was to close, I got the phone call that could change everything for Steve and me. It was POSITIVE! The numbers were high which was good, but I didn’t celebrate. I didn’t jump up and down — heck I didn’t even call Steve right away (he was on his annual hunting trip in Colorado at this time). I waited and waited. I waited for the shoe to drop and for everything to turn upside down again. I held my breath every time I went in for bloodwork to make sure my HCG was continuing to go up. It was and by a lot. Finally, on October 3, 2017 (a day after our 7-year anniversary), we were able to go in for an ultrasound to make sure everything was still looking good.

I held my breath. I cried. I didn’t want to go in at first, because I didn’t want the same results. I was TERRIFIED.

When we saw the screen with TWO embryos on it and heard TWO heartbeats, I cried even more. I couldn’t believe it; this was actually happening. Once we left the appointment, I gathered myself and then talked myself out of my happiness. I was only 6 weeks pregnant at this time. There was still plenty of time for a miscarriage to happen or any other number of things that could go wrong with this pregnancy. I couldn’t allow myself to get excited just to be let down once again. So, I proceeded ahead with caution. Every 2 weeks I had an ultrasound. With fertility specialists, they want to monitor everything closely until you are into your second trimester (13 weeks pregnant). So, we kept our secret to ourselves until that magic 12-week mark and we were “graduated” from our specialist’s care. We still guarded our hearts at every appointment, and every time I heard those two precious heartbeats, I breathed a sigh of relief.

(12 weeks ultrasound)

(25 weeks pregnant)

Now, the pregnancy by no means was easy; however, I do feel blessed that I never experienced morning sickness of any kind and that my cravings were of chocolate milk and halo oranges. I had placenta previa from the beginning so I remained closely monitored throughout my pregnancy for that and for having multiples. I was told to take it easy and at 32 weeks pregnant I began to feel contractions. I was brought into Miami Valley Hospital to be monitored but was sent home after they gave me magnesium to help with the contractions and to stop me from going into labor. My doctors wanted me to hold onto those sweet boys as long as I possibly could. So, at this time I was told that I was to stay home (not on bed rest necessarily) and not work or do anything strenuous. I had 2 appointments every week to check on my boys. At my 36 weeks check-up, I was told the boys looked good and that I could schedule a c-section for anytime (37 weeks is full term for twins).

I replied, “So, tomorrow?”

I received a strange look and asked to be certain that I meant tomorrow. I said, “Yes, I’m so uncomfortable and I’m ready. If you say the babies will be ok, then let’s do it tomorrow, please.” And the arrangements were made.

At 7:55am the next day, my sweet Levi was born. I held my breath until I heard him cry. He was the smaller of the two and the one I was most concerned about. So, when he cried, my heart burst with happiness. They had to rush him out since he had some stuff in his lungs and was having a little trouble breathing. Then at 7:57am, my ornery little Cameron came into this world screaming. Again, I was beyond joyous! He was brought back for monitoring and I sent my husband with my boys. I was doing just fine and they needed their father with them since they were new to the world after all.

Once I was brought back to my room, I was informed that they were going to have to transfer Levi to Dayton Children’s because of his breathing. I never got to hold him that day. I was able to see him in his “incubator” right before they brought him to the ambulance for transfer. The next few days were agnoy. Luckily, Cameron was doing great and he stayed with me at the hospital until we were released 3 days later. It wasn’t until day 4 that I was able to hold Levi.

However, my husband, in-laws, parents and grandparents all visited Levi when I couldn’t, so he knew he was loved from day one. The day I finally got to meet him was beautiful. It was so nice having both my boys together and Dayton Children’s was amazing. They had an extra crib for Cameron and answered all our questions and were very loving towards our sons. It was hard because I knew I had to take care of myself too, so we made it to Dayton every other day. Each day we left, I cried and felt like a horrible mother for choosing my comfort over my sons. I thought I brought them into the world too early and if I had just waited, then Levi could have been home with us from the beginning. However, my doctor reaffirmed my decision and said it was actually the best one.

On May 10, 2018, we were able to bring Levi home. It was the greatest and scariest day. We know had two newborns to take care of, but no matter the struggles that would come, we knew we were both lucky and blessed to be on this journey. If it wasn’t for the journey we went through, I wouldn’t know of the complete strength my husband has or my own strength. It has made our marriage better and brought us closer than we ever believed possible. So, although, it was not the expected way we thought we would have children, we are glad to have gone through it in the end. If we had not, then we would not have our two adorable, loving, and ornery little boys.

Please remember, that everyone’s journey is different. We are lucky. Everyone who goes through infertility or miscarriages do not always have an end point like we did. Some will lose marriages, some will lose their faith, and some will lose themselves. So, do not take it lightly and don’t make comments about people having children, because you do not know everyone’s story. We were not taught about struggles with fertility in school. I didn’t even know about endometriosis or infertility until I actually was diagnosed and went through it. No one talks about these issues. No one talks about miscarriages. In our society, we are told not to announce we are pregnant until after the first trimester just in case it ends in a miscarriage. Why should we wait to celebrate a life that has been created, and why should we suffer the loss of that life alone? Why are we made to feel ashamed for “losing a baby” when in fact it was nothing the mother ever did.

Do not take what you have for granted either. Love your children, but also know that you are blessed beyond measure to have them — no matter how trying they may be at times. Do not say to those without children, “Oh, you can take mine — it’ll make you think twice before having kids.” Those childless friends may want to have children more than anything and would love to have those “problems” that you currently are facing. There are more of us than you know.

We are the 1 in 4 who experience a miscarriage and the 1 in 8 who experience infertility.

We are fighters. We are survivors.