Our Story

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In brief, after six months of trying to conceive naturally we decided to seek an opinion from a fertility specialist. In Summer of 2022 we received our diagnosis of both female and male primary infertility. After making the decision to pursue IVF with our care team, our daughter, Sunday was born in September 2023. We still have three more embabies on ice. Although we are unsure what our family's future holds, we will continue to share our experiences with you all.

Please enjoy these snippets of me/us along the journey. Our blog posts detailing our experiences, thoughts and feelings throughout our time trying to conceive through Sunday's birth story can be viewed below. Please read what interests you, or what you need to feel supported. We hope you will enjoy our openness in sharing our journey with you all, and that someone may find comfort through our shared experiences.

Disclaimer:

Please note the following posts do contain details of procedures, personal feelings/views, pregnancy details, and may be trigger for some readers. We cried when writing but don't want you to cry too.

None of the following information is to be considered medical advice.

The Beginning and Diagnosis

Read through our time spent trying to conceive naturally. We share the heartbreak of negative tests and gaslighting that many on this journey know so well. As I sit here on the morning of Day 1 post-transfer (DPT) I have been encouraged by many to blog, to share, to write about our journey. People want to know about the difficulties that we have faced, our journey, how do people who can’t create life make a baby? I wonder to myself do they want to know out of love, because they are facing the devastation themselves, or because they fear it in the future? In any case, I have made the decision to write, to blog I suppose, the steps of our journey. Is it a blog? I don’t know what exactly defines that term, but here is phase one of our fertility journey, the beginning, the good days where we naively thought we could plan when we had our child, how many children we could have, or how far apart they would be born. Making Baby Coates has become the moniker for our lives over the last year as we navigate the dark, murky and treacherous waters that flow through the trenches of infertility. A few posts and small excerpts of our journey have been posted to social media. I guess the point of this blog is to offer a deeper insight into the darkness of infertility, share feelings, be vulnerable, and if that can make a difference to even one person struggling it is worth opening our hearts and lives to the world. If even one person feels supported, feels they should get checked out, or feels like they have a safe place to ask questions then the goal of sharing our story has been achieved. I guess the first place to start is the journey that brought us to the diagnosis. The many months of trying to conceive (TTC) unassisted, the many months of repeat disappointment. It’s a feeling that only those struggling can understand, a feeling of pure and utter loneliness. Sitting there, every day, with repeat negative test after another until your period comes knocking at the door with sore breasts, nausea and an achey back. A feeling of gaslighting yourself that it can’t be your period because you claimed this as your month and that these must be symptoms of pregnancy because you can FEEL it, you just know this is going to be it. Cue the melt down in the following days as you start to bleed and realize your body has let you down again. Sure, your partner is there, and my partner showed up to the max, ever encouraging, always positive, down in the trenches with me, picking me up off the floor in tears time and time again, but the loneliness doesn’t leave no matter how close the person you love most in the entire world is to you, the closest possible proximity to you, cuddling you in bed, wiping your tears, inside you feel empty and alone. No matter how much encouragement and positivity my sweet, sweet husband provided, the emptiness inside doesn’t leave and the void cannot be filled with any love other than that of your baby growing inside of you, smiling up at you one day, calling you mama, a dream that feels it slips farther away with each passing month of failure. It’s a funny feeling, watching your planned future slip away from you, one that is difficult to describe, like you see your dream life flashing before your eyes, visions of your partner holding your child, wondering who your child will look like, or what their personality will be, imagining how it would feel to have them move inside you, thinking about how proud you will be of every milestone they hit, all of it imaginary for now, but each month you renew your chance at achieving this. We decided we would start trying when I graduated my Registered Nursing program, but in the winter of 2021 we both had a moment where we just decided we were ready and decided to start trying earlier than planned. It was a surreal moment, I recall it exactly, we were in the car reading a book about how to best prepare for a baby, one I still love and recommend to all my prenatal patients called Best For Baby, driving to Bracebridge to go rock climbing at a new gym with some of our best friends. We both just looked at each other and simultaneously said “Are we really doing this?!” and then it was off to the races… the planning, purchasing ovulation tests, meal planning and revolving our lives around my ovulation window, ovulation testing, cycle tracking and timed sex. In our case, we have been blessed with an amazing support system and healthcare providers that were willing to advocate for us when we knew something was wrong, despite not fitting into the big box diagnosis criteria of failed TTC for one year before seeking specialized care. I knew it, deep in my gut, in my heart, and in my mind that something was not right. We had been doing everything right, and I mean EVERYTHING possible. The first few months you slowly modify your lifestyle…. No alcohol, decreasing stress, and cycle tracking, and after each failed attempt you add something more extreme in until you’re not eating anything that brings you joy, not drinking any coffee in the morning, an extremist on your activity regimen, spending hundreds on prenatal vitamins that are “better” than the over the counters from the pharmacy, still with no results. After seven consecutive months of failed pregnancy attempts, we asked our family doctor to make a referral to a fertility clinic in Toronto, with a short wait time. Our family doctor suggested that we do routine screening bloodwork that fertility patients would typically have ordered. Day 3 and Day 21 of the menstrual cycle a patient does blood work that screenings for LH, FSH, progesterone and AMH. All fertility related hormones in your body. The day I received the requisitions was my day 21 so I went straight to the lab and did the first set. When day 3 rolled around I went to the lab again, anxiously awaiting the results on the Lifelabs online portal. Cue the first official feeling when your gut drops out of your butt and your feet start to burn, heart racing, brain fogging, body sweating, panic when you see an abnormal number written in bold, red letters on the screen. Low AMH, and not marginally, but the 15% percentile. An immediate referral to the fertility specialist, something that means we suddenly have an extremely limited amount of time to become pregnant and that we have to hit the ground running with a fertility investigation. For those outside of the fertility world, AMH = Anti-Mullerian Hormone, an indicator of a woman’s ovarian reserves, how many eggs are left to achieve a pregnancy. A woman is born with the number of eggs she will have for her lifetime, typically somewhere in the billions, and every month hundreds or thousands of eggs are at the ready, a few develop into a follicle, and typically, one becomes viable and releases during ovulation, which is fertilized by the sperm and eventually becomes your baby. As I sit, in panic, the week before I write my NCLEX nursing exam (admittedly, very bad timing to begin investigations into this issue) I call the fertility clinic and schedule our first appointment together to begin investigations.

The first few visits, when we decided to seek care and receiving our diagnosis. The Diagnosis After finding out that I had a low AMH we were immediately accepted into the fertility clinic with our requested specialist, recommended by a friend. They began their investigations on day 1 of my next cycle, which was only a few short weeks after we got the results but felt like an eternity with a dark cloud looming over us. Do we try this cycle, do we forget it? Never knowing the right answer is an indescribable frustration. Again, as part of the purpose of creating this blog was to educate others; day 1 is considered the first day of your menstrual bleed, and typically marks the beginning of your 28ish day cycle. Typically, ovulation occurs mid-cycle, around day 14, but this can vary for most women, which is why most patients TTC recommended LH ovulation tests starting the day after your period is finished and a few days past your peak. We began testing with the fertility clinic day 1 of my end of July cycle, considered the investigatory cycle which consists of baseline investigations for both partners and cycle monitoring for females. Baseline investigations for women include pelvic exam, PAP test, many swabs to test for communicable diseases, and baseline bloodwork that tests all hormones, complete blood cell panels, sugar levels (diabetes screening) and electrolytes. For male partners, this includes a physical exam to check for abnormalities, baseline labs as above, a one time ultrasound to ensure there are no abnormalities internally, and a semen analysis. After baseline appointments have been completed the female partner undergoes very close cycle monitoring, which consists of an internal and external ultrasound with hormonal labs and a repeat AMH on day 3, followed by hormonal panel and repeat internal ultrasound every other day until ovulation occurs, progesterone screening a week after ovulation, and completed by a pregnancy test two weeks after ovulation. After the investigatory cycle we had a consult wit our specialist who delivered the news to us. August 26, 2022 a day we will never forget, the day our world changed forever. “You will not be able to have children unassisted and we are very pressed for time to conceive”, words from our doctor that rang in our ears, tuning out most of the other information discussed during the appointment, which was early in the morning over the phone, conducted at home before we started our day at 7:00 a.m. Ever the optimists, we planned a weekend away for Nathan in New York to wakeboard, and I planned to attend a normal work day, assuming we would be just fine to carry on with our lives like our world would not be shattered. One thing that infertility really teaches you is to never expect positive outcomes, but to stay positive, and always be prepared for the negative outcome to arise. During this appointment we discussed all the findings of the investigatory cycle. A low AMH means a low ovarian reserve, as well as a diagnosis of poor quality eggs and dysfunctional ovulation, where my body does not grow the eggs to a fertile size before releasing them from the ovary, meaning that even if the sperm could reach them, the implantation will always fail. Secondary, Nathan also faces male infertility with a low sperm count, and poor motility. The summary of things, he says, is that we will need to proceed with In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) to conceive out child as we are not capable of creating our child without scientific intervention, and that we will need to act quickly due to the diminished ovarian reserve. My egg count reveals that my ovaries and eggs are about the value of a woman aged 41, not 29. We expected this, we prepared for this, we are okay, we want to do IVF because we don’t want to waste any more time when we are racing against the clock… we decide together with our specialist that we will try two medicated cycles while we get things in order for our IVF cycle to start and were advised to call reception to organize monitoring appointments, additional semen analysis and a consult with the IVF coordinator. Cue the second moment of panic and devastation, we thought our world had shattered after the news that we would need IVF, as the receptionist answers she states that we would not be covered under OHIP for our IVF cycle but would have to pay out of pocket, and there was a “summer sale” happening until August 31st, which she suggests we complete payment by. As I write my brain honestly struggles to recount the events that followed, all I can remember is dropping to the floor in tears, screaming, and most of the morning remains a blur. We don’t have the money, we will never have a child, being a mother, the thing I have always longed for, was being ripped away from me and there was not a thing I could do about it in that moment. To top it off, Nathan was late for his New York departure and I was late to work. After what felt like forever during the melt down, I needed to focus on breathing, get up and try to redirect my brain to logical thinking. I hated everyone and everything, I hated that I had put off having a family to go to nursing school, I hated that I had incurred debt to go to school making me ineligible to pull more debt from the bank, I hated that my body was failing me… and most of all, I hated that my body was failing my partner, taking away his ability to be the amazing dad we all know he will be one day, taking away the joy of telling him about a positive pregnancy test, taking away the moment he gets to see his child born and hold them for the first time, taking away the future vision of our family. My sweet, sweet partner, says to be that maybe it’s a sign we are meant to live out another dream of mine, working with young HIV positive children in SubSaharan Africa, and says that maybe this is a sign our lives should go in a different direction allowing me to be “a mother to many”. Cue another meltdown, this time of not just sadness and loss but of gratefulness and happiness; how did I find this person as my partner in this life? Nathan departs for New York, my kind Mother In Law drives me to work as I am still in a bit of a foggy state. The news that you cannot conceive a child, that you cannot create life, that you will possibly never become a parent is a repetitive loss that is so difficult to describe. Recurrent grief for a being that never existed in this life, but somehow it so strongly existed in our heart and minds. An angel in our lives sent the money to fund our IVF treatment. Cue, a third meltdown of the day. A friend, calls me to a public place, her son’s soccer game to casually tell me that the money will be sent and everything will be covered. Shock, disbelief and infinite gratefulness can’t even begin to describe the feelings that came over me. How do I say yes? How do I say no? How can I ever repay you, when we know we cannot actually repay you? All questions that I was told not to ask, but to just accept, be grateful and honour this person forever in our child’s life. What a blessed life we live, what wonderful people we have surrounding us, a never ending support system, and a beautiful, beautiful friend who only wants the best for us. I get into the car, cry my eyes out, call Nathan, we accept the astronomical amount of money offered to us out of complete kindness, and we call the clinic to officially book our IVF consultation. As we get everything organized to begin our IVF cycle, we begin two medication assisted cycles, planning to start our IVF stimulants at the end of October if there is no success with our assisted cycles, with the warning from our doctor that we have a low chance of success with medication assisted cycles, so not to get our hopes up. Next phase, come with me through the ups and downs of the medication assisted cycles that we went through while preparing for our IVF cycle.

Medicated Cycles

After receiving our diagnosis, we decided to delay our IVF by three months to allow lifestyle alterations and complimentary treatments some time for action (more on this in the IVF series course). During these three months we opted to attempt conception through oral medications that boost chances of pregnancy. Details about these very trying months can be found in this blog post. Treatment Cycles The two treatment cycles that we did in late summer, early fall were the most difficult cycles of the journey, mostly because they were filled with such false hope, despite our specialist consistently stating that he did not feel we had high success rates for conception with a medication assisted cycle. It was early in the journey, we were still in a constant state of optimism, and keen on the fact that we could make it happen after the initial shock of finding out that we will need to pursue IVF. It’s a constant feedback loop where you are trying to stay positive but then your positivity leads to a greater let down in the end when the negative news comes. The medication prescribed to me is called clomiphene (Clomid brand name) and is used on days 3-7 or days 5-9 of the cycle to promote multiple follicular development and follicular maturation. The terms follicle and egg are used relatively interchangeably in the world of fertility, so you may see different providers use different terms on your journey. Nathan’s diagnosis is that he has low sperm count and low motility. He was given a supplement to boost the count and motility. Motility refers to the ability of the sperm to move in a normal fashion. To start our first cycle, we began pursuing acupuncture to support our fertility. The acupuncturist that specialized in fertility with our clinic worked only mid-day on Mondays, an hour drive from home, right in the middle of a work day. So, for 8 weeks we decided to see her at her home clinic in Burlington, a 1.5 hour drive from home every Saturday for a one hour appointment each. This became our routine for Saturdays, leading up to our IVF cycle. The acupuncturist recommended many Chinese herbs and supplements that we both opted to take after a bit of research. These medicated cycles were the worst of our days, we were not prepared for all that they would bring. The side effects and emotional dysregulation that they brought with them to my body and brain were difficult to tolerate and difficult to cope with. I felt like a stranger in my own body and mind, and we held onto false hope that we would get pregnant “naturally” (assisted ovulation, but not a medicalized conception) and the disappointments felt heavier each time they failed. We would wait our little eggs grow each month until ovulation and the technicians and doctor would tell us things were growing, that multiple eggs were dropping and we would hope for twins on those months… double the excitement, double the let down. While taking this medication I struggled to regulate my emotions and recall feeling like I was watching things happen from above, like an out of body experience, where I could acknowledge that I was being unreasonable or overreacting but unable to turn it off no matter how often I would tell myself this in my head. These treatment cycles brought about our first injectable medications as well, to trigger ovulation, once the egg had reached the desired size of maturity, which is typically a goal of 20mm, differing a bit depending on doctor and patient variables. The first time I did this was the night before my friend Cheryl’s wedding, as I was a bridesmaid we all spent the night together at her house and my shot was due at 9pm. As both the bride and other bridesmaid were RNs as well, I felt I had a good support system but really wanted to do this myself. It probably seems like it is not a big deal to most, especially being an RN, but the psych that comes with doing your own injection the first time is pretty real. I am thankful I had these girls with me to support me in this moment, it felt like a big moment on the journey, although now that we have come so far and done so many injections, it feels silly that I had those feelings in the past. Negative test after negative test, these times were difficult. The false reassurance you give yourself when you get your first negative of the cycle, oh it’s too early, it will be better next time, or oh it’s the end of the day, the test will be positive in the morning. Excuses to occupy your panicking brain from the worst news, that you know is impending. Many couples elect to do treatment cycles with a process called IUI (Intrauterine Insemination), however this procedure is invasive and can be painful for many, as we reviewed with our doctor that our changes on conception with IUI were also low, we opted to do an orally medicated cycle that was slightly less invasive. These cycles were straining on our relationship, my colleagues, and our families and friends as we know they all rode the wave with us.

IVF Retrieval

This post details our experience leading up to and including my egg retrieval day, detailing our preparation decisions and how the procedure went. The Retrieval Our egg retrieval process and procedure is really what most people think of when they think of IVF; big money, many daily injections, surgery and embryo creation. Depending on the patient’s diagnosis, the doctor will use various medications designed to stimulate the ovaries to produce many, good quality eggs. Some women produce only 1-2 viable eggs even with these medications, and some get over-stimulated and produce 30-50. Although 30 might seem like a goal for women after struggling for so long, ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome (OHSS) is a very dangerous side effect of these medications that can land women in the hospital and delay transfer. Our doctor started me on two drugs at the beginning of our retrieval cycle, called Rekovelle and Menopur at lower doses, which were eventually titrated to their maximum doses as I was not responding great to the stimulation. Daily injections brought new feelings for us as Nathan became a master of injections, and I had to accept a new body. A body with extra weight (a foreign feeling for me), bruises all over, and many physical side effects from the hormones and stimulants such as nausea, head aches, hot flashes, and breast tenderness, to name a few possibilities… pseudopregnancy symptoms on the difficult journey of infertility. Both injections were painful, menopur was the worst, so it was difficult to inject myself every time so I was very thankful for Nathan who was a very eager participant to help out where he could. Everyday, when medications were due he would prepare the medication station and get the injections drawn up and ready to go. If you haven’t found yourself a Nathan, I high suggest it. When we started this cycle, my body had 14 eggs between the left and right ovary with the potential to mature. After titrating up the two above medications, we eventually were administering two large injections daily subcutaneously (below skin into the fatty tissue before the muscle) in the abdomen. I say large as different parts of the body are only able to absorb so much liquid in one injection, and typically the maximum recommended dose for a subcutaneous injection is 1mL and I was injecting 1mL, and 1.5mL on the opposite side, switching sides and rotating injection site slightly daily in the evenings. Once the eggs approach a viable size, a third medication that prevents them from dropping with natural ovulation is added for a morning injection, for me, called Orgalutran. Finally, a fourth, carefully timed injection called Pregnyl is to be administered in line with our retrieval surgery time, for me it was exactly 36 hours prior to retrieval procedure. Day 14 of the cycle came and went on a Thursday, and we still only had 2 little eggs that became viable (recalling that 20mm is the goal size for an egg to be fertilized), with the rest of the eggs lagging behind and not growing as we had hoped. Devastating news after we had spent thousands of dollars on medications and procedures thus far. We felt defeated and frustrated as the typical statistic is that only 25% of the eggs retrieved become a viable embryo, so when you do the math for 2 eggs retrieved you would need some powerful forces at work to get any viable embryos. We decided with the doctor to wait over the weekend and plan the retrieval for early Monday morning, giving my body a few extra days on the medications to see what we can come up with. The retrieval surgery is a “simple” procedure that takes place within the operating room at the clinic. The doctor uses a speculum and guides a needle through the wall of the vagina and into the ovaries to retrieve the follicles, which hopefully, all contain a viable, mature egg within them. We showed up to our retrieval procedure with anxiety and low expectations for the number of eggs retrieved as we knew we could potentially end up with no embryos even after all of this. The first surprise of that day was that I had expected a full sedation for the procedure, which I though I had clarified with one of the nursing staff, only to find out that the procedure is done under “conscious sedation”, meaning you are awake but given sedatives and pain medications. Not a great thing to find out that you will be awake for a procedure that you expect to be asleep for as you are about to go into the operating room. Full transparency, the procedure went great, I felt no pain at all, and was in and out of consciousness during the entire thing. Nathan and the nursing staff talked me through everything and kept me calm leading up to the procedure until I went into the operating room and left Nathan behind. Every time I walk or roll into one of the procedure rooms at the clinic and leave my sweet, patient and pining husband behind in the waiting room I develop an overwhelming sense of anxiety, knowing how badly I want him by my side and how badly he wants to be there causes tears every single time, even if just for a simple routine procedure. Sometimes when we are in the trenches of the infertility struggle, wallowing in our own feelings, pain and sadness, we lose sight of the fact that our partners are struggling too. Struggling to keep their heads above water, keep both of us afloat, keep up with the medication schedule, struggling to accept that they may never be a parent, struggling to support our mental wellness while they are sad, lonely and in pain as well. Missing out on small things may seem trivial but when your mantra becomes “we’re in this together” or “we will get through this” and you are separated for the biggest struggles of the journey, there are a lot of emotions… still, even as I write I feel them just as deeply as the moment they happened. After the procedure, the nurses wheeled me out to Nathan, who was waiting in recovery, and we sat together while the sedation wore off and the IV finished running fluids. After things had settled, our doctor came out to advise us the results of the retrieval, cue the second big surprise of the day. EIGHT little eggs had been retrieved! Both of us started to cry immediately as a sense of relief and happiness came over us, we knew that based on the statistics, this meant we had potential of two embryos. After the eggs are retrieved, they are sent to the embryology lab to be fertilized, cultured into blastocytes and then graded. At this point we wait to find out from the embryology lab for the Day 1 update about our little eggs. Each clinic has a slightly different process for embryo culture, as they are sensitive to light and grow best in the dark, our clinic does not provide a day 3 update, but wait until the final culture stage on Day 5. Day 1 update from the lab is that 7/8 eggs retrieved were matured, and 5/8 were fertilized successfully. The wait until the day 5 report were some of the longest, most dragged out days of my life. I remember getting the email after leaving my acupuncture appointment, sitting in the parking lot, on day 5. I called Nathan to read it together, on speakerphone as I opened the email, he was outside working on his car; the update from the embryologist said that we had THREE perfectly graded embryos frozen and ready to be transferred back into their home in their mama. Cue more tears, the theme of this blog post apparently… infertility is definitely not a linear journey and there are so many tears for both happy and sad reasons. Embryo grading is somewhat subjective although the embryologists have criteria that is used there can be a slight variance between the grades assigned by different people. Embryos are graded with a number that reflects their size, and then two letter grades that indicate the quality of the inner cell mass that becomes the baby, and the trophectoderm that becomes the placenta. A being the best and D being the lowest grade. The numbers typically range from 1-5 or 6, with 5/6 being a fully hatched embryo, meaning that it is a full blastocyte that has started to move beyond its zona (shell that encloses the embryo). A big decision that we did have to make was about preimplantation genetic testing (PGT), which screens the embryos for anomalies prior to transfer. You can rule out cell abnormalities that can lead to unsuccessful implantation or genetic disorders. The cost is quite high, and we had to make the decision before we knew the number of embryos we would end up with. Together, we made the decision not to do the PGT because we knew that optimistically we would only end up with an estimated two embryos basing our decision on 20% of the retrieved eggs making it to the blastocyte stage on day 5, at the time we had to decide we did not know that we would end up with three little embabies, so opted not to do the PGT because we knew that we would want to attempt to transfer our embryos with so few to choose from, and didn’t want to rule any of them out when our turn out was potentially low. Instead, we decided we would opt for the non-invasive prenatal testing (NIPT) at 10 weeks of pregnancy if we had a successful transfer. Post-retrieval surgery I did struggle with some pain management. I ended up needing three days off post-retrieval as I did not take it easy enough the first day and had a bit of a pain regression on day second day post-surgery. Overall, some surprises but not as bad as we thought, and we were soooooo happy to find out that we ended the whole retrieval process with three little embabies on ice. What a treasure.

Transfer
&
The Two Week Wait

This post details my first transfer cycle, unfortunately it was not a success and we had to try again the following month. The Transfer Cycle(s) The big moment in every person’s IVF journey, the moment that all the work has lead up to, the tip of the mountain you have been climbing, your tiny baby on the screen during the transfer. Unfortunately for us, the first transfer cycle was not a mountain top moment, but a steady stream of disappointments where my body did not respond to the medications and our transfer was cancelled, better to be let down than to waste one of our precious embryos. To start the transfer cycle you wait for day 1 of your cycle to start (first day of bleeding) and then start estrogen to promote thickening of the uterine lining on day 3. Typically, the protocol is that patients go on oral estrogen with various dosage changes/increases until day 14 and then start progesterone for transfer prep on day 19/20. For us, our day 14 visit went a little something like… you are nowhere near the goal for uterine lining thickness (minimum of 8.0mm) and need to start on another form of estrogen. This pattern continued every few days until I was eventually on three forms of estrogen, oral, vaginal and transdermal skin patches. Around day 24, we finally were teetering at 7.9mm and had to cross the threshold over 8.0mm uterine lining thickness, the nurse prepped us to start progesterone inections for transfer, and we had one final ultrasound a few days later to ensure we had achieved the required 8.0mm. To our disappointment, somehow, we had regressed back to 7.0mm. Our doctor called us in the waiting room as our appointment was a Saturday and he was at home, to advise that the lining thickness had moved in the wrong direction. I cried in front of many a nurse and everyone in the waiting room, Nathan tried to hold it all together and stay strong for both of us, hiding his disappointment that we would not be “meeting” one of our babies this month. I asked the doctor for a second ultrasound check as he brought up the possibility of technician error/differences in measuring techniques, which turned out a result of 7.2mm… still not good enough. That phrase “not good enough” plays over and over in your head, as you blame yourself for something out of your control, trying to find the flaw or error in planning, diet, exercise or medications that you caused. The statement of “not being good enough” pretty much sums up the journey of infertility for the partner that has the diagnosis. Even though my partner had a diagnosis as well, it didn’t change the fact that we had used his sperm, created three embryos and now everything was riding on me and my body. I remember sitting in the nursing office in tears, trying to get my questions out. How can this happen? What did I do wrong? We had plans to visit my mom and step father after this appointment for our Christmas dinner early, as we were departing for New Brunswick just before Christmas. My mother, lovingly, optimistically, bought champagne to celebrate that we had reached our goal and planned to transfer… she hadn’t yet learned that in infertility there is rarely reason for celebration and, more often, a reason for sadness. After nearly all 28 days of my cycle passing, an endometrial biopsy, many, many tears and continual let downs we decided to call the cycle, enjoy Christmas and reconvene in The New Year. Of course, with everything related to infertility, that plan didn’t work out. After deciding with our doctor to stop meds we thought that I would likely be another week or so to let the hormones work their way out of my system and would have cycle day 1 about a week after stopping the estrogen. We were very wrong, and cycle day 1 came the next day while we were en route to New Brunswick to visit my grandparents for Christmas. Cue last minute scrambling two days before Christmas of trying to find an acupuncturist in the Saint John area and change all my diet plans for the holidays…back to restrictions, pelvic flow yoga, long daily walks, and medications. Luckily, we had filled all of the medications before departing “just in case”… if anything infertility teaches one to always prepare for the unexpected. While prepping for transfer, trying to thicken the lining, and somewhat enjoying my vacation I maintained a daily routine of pelvic stretching, 5km walks and eating healthy, generally avoiding all sugar and caffeine. I did find an acupuncturist that had experience with infertility in Fredericton, about an hour drive from my grandparent’s home in Saint John. She was amazing, so easy to talk with, and we discovered that her best friend (from New Brunswick) had just this same month decided to short term move to Ontario to seek fertility care at the same clinic we were attending. A great bonding moment, and I would have loved to see her again. We had to rearrange our vacation a little, as we had a scheduled stop in Ottawa on our way back home from NB but all is well. We shifted our departure date up by a few days, drove all the way home, went to our day 14 ultrasound appointment and then headed to Ottawa the following weekend. At our day 14 ultrasound we were thrilled to hear that we had achieved endometrial thickness goal, passed it actually, with an 8.4mm lining!! Finally, good news! We got the call from the doctor, and sat in with the nurse to go through all of the consents, paperwork and medication schedules related to transferring the embryo. Total information overload, I was very thankful to have Nathan there to absorb some of the details. The main thing I kept focusing on is that as we did a privately funded cycle, we were able to choose the number of embryos that we wanted to transfer… so many questions, such a big decision when we only have three sweet babes frozen and ready. With many more big decisions ahead we took all of our paperwork, signed our consents, and left with an overwhelming medication schedule ready to prep for THE DAY we had been waiting for for so long!!

The biggest and most stressful day of our IVF journey. Read this post to experience our anxieties, excitement and discover when we got our big, fat positive! Transfer Day and The Wait The biggest day in our journey to making our sweet little baby. THE day of all days. The biggest let down or greatest celebration follows. January 10, 2023… a day forever ingrained in our minds and hearts. A day to remember as the first day I was “pregnant” and the day I reunited with my baby. A day of emotions, nerves and happiness. We showed up with smiles, in our matching IVF parent support T-shirt and pineapple socks ready to meet our baby. As we head down to the surgical procedure room where the retrieval was performed months ago we held onto a similar feeling of hope and excitement for the outcome. Step 1: Review all of the medications with the nursing staff. This was the most overwhelming part of the IVF process so far, SO many medications and such a tight schedule. (If you are in it, see the resources tab on our website for a downloadable medication schedule that will allow you to input your medications/times and colour code everything). Three forms of estrogen to continue until week 7 of pregnancy, three forms of progesterone to continue until week 12 of pregnancy, oral steroids to prevent rejection, ASA to promote blood flow, vitamins, teas, supplements and a full time job to attend to post-transfer. The worst of the medication regimen was the progesterone in oil injections, that were required daily. In our original treatment plan, I was not required to do injections, however after seeing my progesterone levels on the day of transfer we were recalled back to the clinic after being discharged post-transfer to pick up the injectable medication as my progesterone levels appeared borderline low, and our doctor didn’t want to take any chances. Step 2: Change and get prepped for the transfer procedure. The most disappointing part of this day is that Nathan was not permitted to enter the surgical room and was required to wait in the recovery area, the same area he anxiously awaited my return from the very same room during our retrieval in November. This was a big let down for us because we were so excited at the prospect he could be present. It felt right that he should be able to be there for the moment his child was “conceived” as we had missed out on so much of the warmth in the journey so far. The wait to have the doctor come in was long and cold. I had to hold my bladder to it’s maximum level for transfer and remember it feeling like the longest wait of my life. Cold is the best word I can think of to describe the feeling. Cold in my body because I sat there in a gown freezing with my legs in stirrups while people walked in and out of the room; cold in my heart because I distanced myself from my emotions and tried to constantly stay logical; cold in concept as most people are able to conceive their child in an intimate, warm and safe moment with their partner, rather than vulnerable, staring at a bright white ceiling during a surgical procedure. First, check the identity x3 of myself and embryo, then the nurse verifies today’s medications, then the ultrasound tech confirms lining thickness, then the doctor finally arrives where the enter cycle of previous steps restarts until our little embryo is brought out in it’s petri dish. Step 3: Transfer, honestly painless aside from the bladder overload and the all-consuming anxiety that my embryo would fall out when I stook up. Not logical, especially as a Registered Nurse, however, no one’s brain is objectively logical on the biggest, most stressful day of their life to date. Step 4: Bye bye now see you in 7 days, good luck. And that’s that, on our way, technically pregnant and excited for what the next week will hold. Transfer day was followed by the longest days of our lives. Resting, couch potato life for me for a few days and back to work after a few days rest. Luckily, Nathan was off for the season during our transfer cycles, so I had lots of support and catering in the first few weeks. We got anxious and starting pregnancy testing only 3 days after transfer because we had the tests and our excitement/nervousness got the best of us quickly. After testing twice daily for a few days we began to feel discouraged as we all play the comparison game to others we blog with, know, talk to or research online the earliest possible home test results. Despite all advice pointing to not testing at home and the likelihood of a home test turning positive so early we continued to torture ourselves and test daily. The moment will live in our minds forever. The moment we found out our little baby had successfully taken root and nestled in. We knew that a positive this early on in no way means we will have a successful pregnancy or continue to test positive, but we held onto the happiness of the moment. After work Day 6 we decided to test at home once more before our blood test early in the morning the next day, we did one last test after work and finally saw the big fat positive!!! I mean it wasn’t big, or fat it was scant, thin and hard to read but it was there!!! We had decided we would use two as this was the biggest day so far and we didn’t test that morning. So we had a digital test, a German digital test that our best friends in Germany had mailed us with a kit of home tests, and a one/two line test. First, dipped the digital test which takes about 5 minutes to process and in the mean time, dipped the line test. While waiting for the digital test I thought I saw the faintest of faint lines appear on the dip stick and starting screaming for Nathan to come into the bathroom. We both squinted and held it under a flashlight for 5 minutes until our digital test finally spit out the German results “schwanger”. We laughed at the irony that our first positive was a German test, and held each other while I sat on the toilet in disbelief and Nathan sat next to me on the bathroom floor. A messy, and definitely not glittery reveal but the best moment so far. After struggling with infertility we were shocked, none of the feelings that we expected to have, just a few quick tears, followed by silence and shock. The sad part about our infertility journey is that we felt a disconnect from our baby, felt that we couldn’t celebrate because we knew we had so so far to go still before we could let our guard down, that we couldn’t be overtly happy because of fear that it would be ripped away from us so soon. We told our closest loved ones and then awaited blood work results the next day. Next post will review the first few weeks of our pregnancy/a typical IVF pregnancy.

Pregnancy

This post covers our first few weeks with our IVF pregnancy. We had a few issues pop up and these weeks were full of stress and anxiety for us with SO many tests! The Early Weeks After finding out that we had a positive test we were not able to feel the weight lift off our shoulders just yet, as we knew there were so many more hurdles to overcome still. Joy was almost instantly followed by new fears. We got our positive test the night before our beta hcg blood work, the hormone that can be detected in your blood in early pregnancy, and should double every other day, following the “expected” trajectory of early pregnancy. It was a relief that we could find out on our own without our doctor having to tell us over the phone that the transfer was successful. Our clinic scheduled our blood work for 7 days post transfer. Our sweet embryo was a day 5 embryo, meaning that she was cultured in a lab for five days before being frozen to await transfer; making two weeks, five days old when transferred, meaning when we got our positive, we were nearly four weeks pregnant, around the same time most people who conceive naturally are able to get a positive test, just a few days before the expected period. Writing about it in the present, it feels like a distant past life that we lived, despite only being months ago, as we have shifted our focus to the reality that she is coming and not just a dream anymore, although sometimes it still feels that way. The first few weeks are grueling with many blood tests, every other day as mentioned above, to make sure that the beta hcg hormone is doubling on the expected curve. Our doctor would typically call us at the end of the day as the in house lab takes the afternoon to process results, and advise when to go back. Those weeks are all such a whirlwind really as sometimes you are recalled early if the number didn’t rise along the curve or if there are weekends/holidays upcoming that will interfere with the every other day trajectory. A few times to confirm validity the results are sent to an external lab, which takes days to be reported, and is anxiety inducing sitting in the unknown when you have been able to follow the process so closely. The first ultrasound with an IVF pregnancy is scheduled at exactly six weeks gestation. A little early for most pregnancies as the heart beat is not always detectable until week 7-8, which is where most providers prefer the “early dating ultrasound” to fall. For us the moment where we would get to see our baby, albeit a small little pea sized dot on the screen, was sometime we had anticipated since our positive test, heck, something we had anticipated for the entire year since our first attempt at conception. We showed up to the clinic mid day and had not been at the location I usually had bloodwork/ultrasounds done at through treatment as we had more provider associated appointments that were scheduled at our doctor’s primary location in Mississauga. We walked through the door and my favourite, ever sweet, ultrasound tech came running down the hall to congratulate us and give me a hug. The people involved in this process really make a difference in how you experience the challenges, and that staff at the Concord location had done just that. We are grateful for all of their support and encouragement during our struggles. First up, I have to head in alone so the techs can measure the wee baby in there. I was thrilled to hear the tech cheer that she found a steady heartbeat and would be able to count that as well. After all measurements were taken, and the heart rate was noted Nathan was invited into the room to see the baby. She was a nothing but a small pea sized dot, that we couldn’t find without the tech pointing it out but the small flicker of a heart beat on the screen was something we could hold onto in the coming weeks. A magical moment, shared with a kind hearted technician who had been so warm to us the entire time, small tears shed, but the usual disconnect comes almost immediately after as I remember we are still far from “in the clear”. It’s an awful feeling, the disconnect you feel from your baby as an infertility patient. Every happy moment overshadowed by a black cloud of fear that floats over your womb all day and night. Disconnect from the love we already have for this baby in case it doesn’t stay with us, disconnect from the usual celebrations of early pregnancy, disconnect from thinking of your baby as “your baby” because your brain crowds out happiness with anxiety about what can come next. And oh, what came next was definitely rain falling from that looming black cloud. Valentine’s Day 2023 was not filled with love, warmth and kindness like we had hoped. I woke up, 7 weeks and 4 days into my pregnancy and felt something strange, ran for a tissue… blood and a fair amount of it. It was still early, too early to call our clinic that was scheduled to open at 7am so we sat in panic for the next hour anxiously googling (yes, yes I know, I am a nurse, I tell my patient’s not to do it, but we all know how hard it is not to do) every possible outcome/cause and waiting for the clinic to open so we could call. Finally, 7:01am, after the line rings and rings the admin team connect us directly to a nurse (maybe not direct as there MAY have been a little bit of abrasive pushing during our panic) who tells us to come down at lunch time to see our doctor for a pelvic exam. I continued to bleed and stress through the morning but it resolved late morning prior to our drive to Toronto. Our doctor reassured us nothing was wrong and that I had likely pushed the vaginal progesterone tablet in too deep the night before but they will recheck tomorrow morning to make sure that the baby is fine. Great, sigh, relief, but bleeding started again when we got home that night and lasted a few hours again. At our ultrasound the technician did not find any abnormalities, again the doctor reassures us everything is fine, it must have just been the suppository, call back if anything else happens. Short relief yet again, as this pattern continue for four days until they found a small subchorionic hemorrhage on ultrasound. We felt a small bit of relief to know that the cause had been identified, and that all of the ultrasounds showed our baby growing, measuring right on with the expected timeline. We were sent back home with orders of little to no activity and a one week ultrasound follow up at 9 weeks to check the baby again, and see if the hemorrhage had resolved. I am so grateful that Nathan was home during these weeks as not only did he do everything for both of us without question, he also helped to provide me with a continued sense of calm. For those wondering, a subchorionic hemorrhage is relatively common, and happens to a lot of moms in early pregnancy, most often staying small and not usually affecting the baby. The biggest disappointment for us was that our dreamy birth plan with the midwives was brought to a crushing halt when the bleed occurred and we made the decision with our doctor to see an obstetrician. Anyway, see below for a photo that demonstrates a subchorionic hemorrhage, and a link to a great video from a fertility specialist explaining what it is/what happens. This doctor also runs a great Youtube channel with lots of good, reliable resources that can help explain things in a visual way for those struggling with the medical jargon of the infertility world. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GKtyFYD6SMI This brings us really to the end of the early weeks. They were full of stress, rest and some spotty happiness as we ended up getting to see our baby grow so closely over those weeks. At our week six ultrasound she was only a little blob on the screen with a flicker and at week nine the tech was able to show us her head, her limbs and her umbilical cord. She even did a little wiggle dance for us during our final week 9 ultrasound. After this it felt like forever to wait until our twelve week appointment that was three entire weeks away after seeing her every other day for so long. Check back soon for an update about the next few weeks, our decision to do private genetic testing in early pregnancy over preimplantation genetic testing (PGT) on the embryo, and our gender reveal insider updates.

This post covers the first trimester of our pregnancy, and when we found out the gender of our baby. Rounding out the first Trimester and Gender The first trimester was full of worry with a few moments of joy. I was so tired all the time, sleeping by 8pm most nights and napping on all of my off days, confounded by the fact that I had 3-4 blood draws a week, which made me feel even more run down. I was nauseous every day and tried to maintain some healthy food consumption for our baby which was difficult between the nausea and food aversions. My worst aversion was seafood and fish, which I normally love, so all the healthy fats in salmon were a no go for the first couple of months. What a great line up it was to have Nathan home with me during these first few months! Lots of questions about “why I wanted to be pregnant in the summer” with a September due date… Honest truth, the thought didn’t even cross my mind. Do others going through IVF/infertility try to line their transfers up with goal dates… our singular goal was to have a healthy baby, no thoughts went into due dates or seasonal planning. I was grateful to have him at my side for all of our ultrasounds and results, what a blessing to have such a supportive partner through all of this, already lining up to be a great Daddy to our baby. Our decision to opt for the non-invasive prenatal testing (NIPT) or panorama testing for genetics screening was impacted by the decision we made to opt out of the genetic screen prior to our embryo transfer. We opted out due to cost, and ultimately, we knew we didn’t have many embryos so would like to try and transfer them regardless of their pass/fail on genetic screening, also it was heckin expensive to do it before transfer, comparable to 10% the cost to do genetic screening after pregnancy is achieved. The NIPT draw takes place right at 10 weeks and screens for genetic anomalies as well as gender, hence, our early gender reveal with our babe. The draw occurred with all of the baseline prenatal screening labs. After I had finally passed the weeks of so many blood draws, I’d hoped for a break but walked into the NIPT and baseline lab draw to find out they would need to take 13 vials.. pretty well the equivalent of a blood donation, so a bit of a delay in recovering and feeling good again while also giving extra blood to baby. Our first obstetrical appt was at week 10, and of course as it happens with us, another small hiccup. No luck finding the heart beat in office with the doppler tone… another quick ultrasound in the evening. We are so, so blessed to have an OB that we have such a good relationship with as we know that he is going above and beyond to care for us and our baby. Meet at the hospital after hours and check out the wee one, found her no problem on ultrasound and an extra time we got to see and listen to her. Our hearts are full to know someone that has been present for other important moments in our lives will be there for the biggest moment in our lives! Such a blessing. Next is the twelve week ultrasound, the “safe” zone they call it, when the risk of miscarriage decreases significantly. Our scan was the morning of our gender reveal, we were so excited to see our baby take shape and form as all of her previous scans she had grown from a little flickering heartbeat on the screen to a head, body, tail and nubs, but we knew at this scan she had sprouted her limbs, outgrown her little tail and would start to really look like our baby. And she did!! We were so excited to get a little video of her wiggling around, she was hyper and moving so much the tech had trouble finding her measurements. A hyper little baby, of course, with us as parents. More blood work and home to get ready for our gender reveal later that day. We waited (not so) patiently for the results of the genetics screening to come in, as we safely planned our gender reveal for just past the two week mark of the pregnancy, one day after 12 weeks gestation. We looked forward to it and I was SURE that we were going to have a boy. Mother’s intuition I called it (ha!) shortly before we cut into our bright pink cake! Nathan noticed first and I stood in shock and disbelief for a few seconds before I believed it. After the highs we had at the 12 week mark it felt like we would have to wait forever before our next scheduled ultrasound at week 16, although we were happy to wait in a way as it meant that we were doing well if no extra scans were needed. We used the doppler tone machine from my workplace regularly (still do in fact, even at week 20 when I can feel baby moving) for reassurance that she was still in there, heart beating away. What a great tool we had access to for reassurance, but can be tricky when you don’t know what to look for. Luckily for me, a part of my daily job is to find fetal heart rates on prenatal patients, so I had a bit of a leg up on knowing what to listen for and how to find the baby this small.

Second trimester Coming soon...

Third and final trimester Coming soon...

Birth Story

Sunday’s Birth Story, the best day of our lives, the day we met the ray of sunshine we had hoped to hold for so long. After coming to the conclusion with our obstetricians that an elective, scheduled caesarean section would be the best/safest way to deliver our miracle baby there was still a lot of back and forth in my mind. We made this decision with the ultimate goal of safety and control of external factors, which you don’t always get in labour, and because the obstetrician brought up that IVF babies sometimes have a lower threshold for emergency c-sections if there are any alarms/abnormals starting in labour. Although the choice was made, and the surgery was booked for September 21st at 39 weeks exactly, I was internally struggling with our decision. I felt selfish for “taking the easy way out” and doing what felt better and more convenient for myself, rather than thinking about all of the pros that my baby would experience during her birth. Considering that our original birth plan was to have a natural delivery with the midwives at a small local hospital moving toward an elective c-section was far removed from what I had envisioned my daughter’s birth would look and feel like. Both Nathan and I had been preparing for how our birth would go since before our daughter was conceived. He had spent time reviewing content about how to be a supportive birth partner, we had gone over movements and exercises to do during pregnancy/labour that are helpful with positioning and pain management, we had looked at ordering a birthing tub, and already invited my mother to be present in the birthing room. I felt like I was taking away all of the magical things that mother-baby-father triads experience during labour; cardinal movements, gentle entrance into the world, golden hour, peace and quiet, early initiation of breastfeeding, skin to skin, delayed cord clamping and the list goes on. I felt that all three myself, Nathan and my mom were both losing out on the experience of seeing my baby born as the surgical suite is less flexible than a labour. If I expressed our choice to have an elective c-section we often received judgment from others, including care providers (not our obstetricians) that we saw during the pregnancy. Many asked me if I was coerced, happy with my decision, making the right choice, informed of the risks, etc. We were not at all coerced but felt extremely well supported by our providers and although I did have some mom guilt related to missing out on the early bonding moments with my daughter, we still felt confident with our decision to continue as planned with the elective c-section at 39 weeks knowing that our family’s ultimate goal was the safest arrival of our baby girl. We did switch obstetricians toward the end of our pregnancy to deliver our baby at a larger hospital that had more supports available, in the event of an emergency. Again, hard to see a part of our plan disappear but one step closer to the safe arrival of our miracle baby. Fast forward to September 19th when our scheduled plan shattered as my water broke in the middle of the night. As expected, our little girl had plans of her own and wanted to make a dramatic entry into the world ahead of schedule. We had been preparing for this possibility and knew that if this happened, we wanted to proceed with a trial of labouring. We had purchased a mattress protector for our bed just in case, packed our bags at 35 weeks just in case, and reviewed alternative pain management techniques so we could both feel prepared. At 1:40 am September 19th my water broke when I rolled over in bed. I was 38 weeks 5 days gestation so baby girl was considered safely full term (anytime after 37 weeks babies are considered safe for delivery) so we knew there was no alarm. To me, it felt like morning I thought that I had been woken up because Nathan’s work alarm went off at 5:00am, but I guess I had yelled out to him subconsciously and he’d already jumped out of bed and turned on the lights before I realized what was happening. I stood up and large amount of clear (yay, also healthy as coloured amniotic fluid can lead to concerns about abnormal findings) fluid came rushing out all over our bedroom. Sweet Nathan ran for towels to help me clean up and in his panic brought back our dog, Carter’s muddy paw towel at our front door, as it was the closest to our bedroom (ha!). Sent again for CLEAN towels, he returned and tidied up the mess that trailed behind me as I walked into the shower. After a shower and some time to check in with ourselves, we both felt calm and decided not to rush into the hospital as I knew I wanted to labour at home for a while if everything continued to go smoothly. We finished grabbing a few last minute things for my hospital bag as some contractions started to come. They were light and bearable, I tried to enjoy each feeling as I knew it meant we were one step closer to meeting our baby. After a couple hours at home and ensuring we reviewed our checklist, not forgetting anything, I had continued to have massive rushes with large amounts of amniotic fluid and we decided to go to the hospital as I had concerns that the baby had turned breech (which she had remained right up until I was 38 weeks at my last OB appointment. We packed the car, notified our families that we were on the way and set out. On our way, we both felt surprisingly calm, I continued with contractions, spaced about every 10 minutes, even made a snack and coffee stop en route. We decided to leave all of our stuff in the car until we were assessed and had a plan in place with the providers on shift as we knew that our OB was not on call. After arriving at the hospital, the nurses were welcoming and determined that I was only 1cm dilated, no big deal as it had only been a short time, but I knew that I had been 1cm dilated at 37 weeks when we presented to the birthing unit for extreme back pain, false alarm but they did do a thorough check to ensure it was a false labour. Baby girl had a non-stress test in triage and was moving well with a healthy heart beat, the test did confirm that my uterus was contracting. I was nervous as I knew the provider on call was not the OB I wanted to be a part of my birth experience and hoped that we would be able to make it until 8am when the next provider was on call, who I knew better as we share an office, and felt much more confident working together for baby’s care. In hindsight, I laugh thinking that I had the thought “I hope I can make it to 8am” as the events that transpired were slow going. The nurses on shift spoke with the on call OB via phone and they had determined that we were safe to go home after blood work was drawn. They collectively decided that since there was no c-section booked that day at 1pm (scheduled c sections are done at 8am and 1pm unless emergency scenarios bump the times) so we were given the option of continuing to labour or do the surgery at 1pm. After discussion between ourselves and our wonderful nurse we decided that we would trial labour and return at lunchtime for a reassessment, if labour was going well then we would continue down that road and if there had not been satisfactory progress we could select to do the c section that afternoon. The morning at home was spent doing all the previous pain management techniques and movements that we had both practiced to help progress labour. A couple hours spent walking and curb walking around our community, stretches, yoga poses and some cuddles to boost the oxytocin as well as some rest to gear up for when labour would get more serious. My contractions continued and progressed slightly in intensity and frequency, eventually coming every 4-6 minutes while we were still at home. We were optimistic that because contractions were increasing in intensity and frequency that there had been at least some progress over the last 12 hours, and set out in fresh clothes to the hospital again. I decided to wear my slippers, which felt like a good decision at the time as I was uncomfortable, but later regretted when I had to walk around the hospital and grounds without shoes the rest of the afternoon. Before we left, we snapped one last pregnancy photo under the window in Sunday’s nursery where we’d taken all the bump photos to date as we worked on completing her room. The last moment at home pregnant, we cherished a few moments reflecting and cuddling knowing that this was our last time at home just the two of us; next time we crossed the threshold of our home, we would have our baby with us, one way or another. We felt at peace with how things were going and arrived back at the hospital for triage again. Happy that a new OB was on call and present we were hooked up to another non-stress test in the triage room by our nurse, when all contractions completely stopped. Baby continued to move well, and her heart rate was stable but there were no contractions during our assessment/testing. The OB did a cervical check and there had been no progression in dilation, still 1cm, stretchable to 1.5cm… disappointed, Nathan and I looked at each other as the OB reviewed our options. We could continue to labour, would likely need to consider induction if the progress wasn’t satisfactory by evening when the OB was heading home for the night, go ahead with the induction now, or proceed with the planned c section later this afternoon as there was an emergency case slotted in for 1pm. For those unsure, when your water breaks first, for safety reasons, the baby should be born by the 36 hour mark, so there is some degree of pressure applied when your water breaks before dilation starts, whereas some women labour for many hours before water breaks/is manually broken by provider. I knew that I did not want to be induced so we decided that we would proceed with the c section that afternoon. Nathan, our nurses and the obstetrician were all very supportive of my decision and we were booked in for a 3:30pm c section. We were so blessed to have amazing providers! The OB, physician’s assistant and nurses were fabulous; Heidi was also able to make it to the surgery and do the assist to our OB; what a full circle moment to delivery her name sake, the baby she had a hand in bringing to life. We are all so lucky! Before the surgery we have an intake with our OR nurse, shout out to her for being awesome, accommodating, and taking lots of pics for us during the procedure! During this intake we review health history, get to ask all of our questions and get prepared for the surgery with IV insertion and a review of the procedure before entering the OR. I was most nervous for the spinal freezing that takes place prior to the c section, for some reason this needle in my back was the thing weighing on my mind more than the incision and surgery about to happen to my body. Having watched c sections during my time as a student in the labour and delivery department, I felt comfortable knowing what to expect during the procedure but fearful of the spinal anesthetic. The anesthetist and supporting team we had were AMAZING. They helped to coach me through it and provided a voice for me during the entire procedure. The NICU nurse present for Sunday’s evaluations even went to find a yellow newborn hat when they found out she would be called Sunny. A lot of personal efforts were made from everyone in the room to ensure our day was memorable and all we’d imagined. For those that have not had c section deliveries, dads have to wait outside of the operating suite until the team is ready for the surgery to start, all of the preliminary tasks are done while dad sits outside the room, ex: anesthetic administration, sterilizations, catheter insertion, and positioning. I was afraid of doing these things alone without Nathan but was so so thankful for the support that our amazing team provided. The nurses and respiratory therapist provided a sense of calm and comfort for me during the anesthetic administration and the anesthetist was absolutely stellar! It felt like a sharp sting and then heat working it’s way down to my feet. Heidi came bursting in the room and told me Nathan was pacing impatiently outside the door. The only thing that I felt disappointed about was that I would not be the first person to be able to do skin to skin with my baby, but knew that Nathan was feeling privileged to be able to do this for her, especially knowing that I was so disappointed about this. During the surgery the patient’s arms are strapped out to their sides to prevent any interference with the procedure, so most providers say it is unsafe for mom’s to hold their infants without the use of their hands/arms. The surgery started and I felt strangely calm with everything going on, Nathan was holding my hand sitting next to me, I could hear Heidi’s voice, and the anesthetist we had was providing a voice for me through the entire procedure, telling my everything that was going on, asking my questions for me, and checking in on how I was feeling constantly. During the surgery I experienced quite a bit of nausea so needed some medication via IV to treat this, which worked right away. All three doctors walked me through what was going on and I was so grateful for this. The actual procedure feels very weird, I once heard someone describe it like the doctors doing dishes inside of your abdomen, and I would say this is a pretty accurate description to be honest. The baby coming out happens pretty quick and the majority of the procedure is really the repair of tissue. After Nathan walked in it all felt like a whirlwind, I heard the OB announce that he could see baby’s little head and she had LOTS of hair, it was getting close, our baby was almost here!! To my great surprise the anesthetist was a female who strongly supported skin to skin with mom as soon as possible so she asked Nathan to open the snaps on my hospital gown to prepare for some skin to skin with baby girl as soon as her scores were done. We both eagerly agreed and started moving tubes and cords out of the way. Meanwhile, baby Sunday was OUT. She was so quiet at first that I became concerned, there was no immediate sense of urgency on the faces of the doctors but I could see all of the providers exchanging glances and it felt like for a brief moment my heart stopped in my chest until all of a sudden Sunday let out a huge scream before settling right back down. We got to see a quick little peek of our baby girl on our side of the curtain before she went to be assessed by the OR team. The nurse and respiratory therapist took her to the warmer after one minute before delayed cord clamping to do her APGAR scores (baby wellness scores), assess anatomy, administer her vitamin K injection (to help newborns with blood clotting as clotting factors are not well developed in utero) and antibiotic eye drops (given in case of exposure to infection during delivery). The five minutes before I held her felt like an eternity, she was so quiet and peaceful that I kept asking if she was be resuscitated, but received reassurance from the anesthetist that she was well, Nathan also stood up and looked over the curtain to check her out. I think he may have slightly regretted that decision as he had to see all of me before seeing the infant warming station, but he did it a few times so maybe not. He says no when I ask him. After five minutes passed the nurses brought Sunday over to me and we held/met our sweet little baby girl for the first time after waiting so long. Every parent will describe this to you as the best moment of their lives but until you experience it there really isn’t a way to put the pen to paper on how it feels. The nurse snapped my absolute favourite moment of my life in a photo, the moment where we first met our baby girl, when she was laid out on me for skin to skin for the first time. The best part about this, which you cannot see on the computer screen, is that it is a live iphone photo so a quick one second clip that you can see me say “Hi baby” to her for the first time. With so many tears in our eyes and new love in our hearts we took in the moments, feeling like the world slowed down around us. After a few minutes, Sunday was passed to Nathan and they sat skin to skin for a few moments while the OB closed my incision. Toward the very end, the last few minutes, I did experience some pain on one side and the anesthetist administered a bit of a boost of a pain medication via IV, which worked well. As the doctor’s wrapped things up in the OR, Nathan and Sunday were escorted out to the recovery area and I was brought out a few minutes behind them. He tells me that he cherishes these first few minutes of her life skin to skin together more than anything else, spent singing her the song she is named after, our special song, Downstream, while waiting for me to arrive from the OR. After the procedure was done, I was reunited with my new little family and Sunday was given to me to initiate breastfeeding right away. Without missing a beat her and I fell into perfect rhythm and she latched successfully on the first try. The experience of becoming a parent is surreal, still feels like it didn’t happen. It has brought us new levels of emotion and love we had never imagined, including a new type of love for each other. Seeing your partner become a parent opens your eyes to an entirely new side of them, growing your heart even more than you thought was possible. Not only do I have this sweet new baby that I have intense love for but I also have a new version of my spouse to love. We so so so love our sweet baby girl, Sunday Lauren Michelle, born September 19th, 2023 at 3:36pm weighing a teeny 6 pounds on the nose and cannot wait to live our lives with her!