Where I've Been // TW: Loss

It’s been a hard year. 

As many know, we’ve struggled with infertility for about 8 years. It was a hard road, but I started to experience hope when we met a generous woman who wanted to give her frozen eggs to us at no cost. She had a lot and the doctor spoke highly of them. We were ecstatic. 

The process of using them was long- there were transfers, challenges with the clinic of origin, many appointments, and LOTS of paperwork before our lab could even make embryos. Though tiresome, we saw this process as our ticket out of this complex journey. 

Our 18 eggs became 3 blasts, our 3 blasts became 1 viable, high-quality, male embryo. We were hoping for more but were excited for the boy we would implant. 

I started meds and injections to prep my body for transfer and transferred him the day before Thanksgiving.

After 7 days, two faint lines popped up on a pregnancy test. It was an incredible day. After 7 years of trying and hoping, after ~12 attempts at fertility treatment, I was pregnant. So much shock, so much joy. The doctor confirmed a positive result.

Later, I had my first ultrasound and saw his little heartbeat. It was incredible. It was the happiest I’ve ever been. 

By the time our next ultrasound came, my body felt different. I could tell something was off, but I thought I was overthinking it. 

His heart was no longer beating and though the sac around him kept growing, he had stopped. 

Devastating does not begin to describe what I felt at that moment. He was my only embryo. I thought we finally made it to the other side.

As I waited to miscarry, the little sac around him kept growing and I was looking more pregnant. 

My body kept holding on, so I tried to induce a miscarriage at home via medication…3 times. 

Still nothing. I was then scheduled for a D/C later that week. When he left my body, so did my hope.

The same week we lost our baby, our precious puppy, Queso, was diagnosed with terminal cancer. He had been showing signs of pain. The doctor found a tumor on his bone and amputated the leg in hopes it would clear out the cancer, buying us many more years with him. The week I learned we lost our baby, we learned his cancer would come back quickly and take his life.

 

After a lot of wallowing, reality TV, and cheddar popcorn (and bigger pant sizes), I decided to look for egg donors we could purchase eggs from. 

I found the perfect match, then quickly learned she and JT were carriers for the same genetic diseases. 

Back to square one. 

Sidebar: most people think it’s easy to find a donor as there are plenty to choose from, however, it’s not that simple. There are a million factors, plus you’re imparting someone’s DNA onto your future child. That is a huge deal. Once you finally find someone who meets your criteria, you see if they’re a genetic match- and that’s always a gamble. The laws of the state housing the eggs also matter. As I said, millions of factors.

The whole thing feels like Tinder in the worst way. I’ve never felt so judgmental in my life. Turns out, I’m weary of large noses. Who knew?

Anyway, from there, I found another I loved. She matched genetically and we purchased her available eggs. 

They were shipped to our clinic and thawed beautifully. 13 eggs from a young woman should've produced many embryos, but those 13 eggs became 2 blasts, and 2 blasts became only 1 viable baby boy embryo. A fluke of an outcome, yet again. Grading was good, not great, but the odds were still in our favor.

I started meds and injections to prepare for transfer. After he was implanted, I continued the course of meds, hoping he would stick. I knew he didn’t though. I felt different than the last time. I hoped I was simply guarding myself against disappointment and would find a positive test after 7 days. In the end, my test was negative, and the doctor confirmed a failed transfer.

As I sobbed on the floor of the nursery I started, my sweet, 3-legged puppy lay with me, licking all my tears. He was my comfort, my best friend.

It’s been a couple of months, and we’re working towards trying again. It’s difficult emotionally, insane financially (like a house in Oklahoma insane), and overall, just shitty (and no, I don’t want advice). But, I am starting to feel like myself again, and I’m grateful for that. 

As we picked up the pieces, we had the best time with Queso. Always making us laugh and giving the best snuggles when the hard days came. 

A week ago, Queso started throwing up throughout the night. We took him to the vet hospital and learned a fluid sac had developed around his heart, ending our journey with him, just after his 3rd birthday.

 

He was our baby, our joy. With us, he went through the hardest year of our marriage and brought immense comfort. He was the best boy. 

All that to say, it’s been a hard year. I could barely keep up with my day job, let alone my business.

Throughout my journey with this business, I’ve been overly honest with you- and I liked it that way. That’s who I am. But with this, I couldn’t be honest at the moment. It was too hard and I wanted to hold this in a small circle, but showing up and skirting around it felt dishonest and fake when all I’ve been in the past is transparent about my life. Hiding in plain sight didn’t work for me, so instead, I took a step back and hid entirely.

I’m sure an unannounced step away confused some, and for that, I apologize. 

So where do we go from here?

Well, I’m slowly picking pieces back up while leaving some on the floor.

I don’t know how it will look, but I will keep making, designing, working with our artisan partners, and providing incredible products to you.

There are new designs from our factory coming out soon!

But honestly, for now, that’s all I know. Wholesale will be my main focus, which has still been going throughout this (somewhat), but I’ll start to dabble with retail again and get our wholesale program back on track.

As I work towards reviving this space, I will be gentle with myself. I’ll be doing less than before, and I’m excited about that. Quite frankly, I now have another job, allowing less stress. I no longer have resentment or burnout for this space. Trying to tap into my creative brain while ensuring enough income was terrible for me and the business. I built this to be a place of creativity and joy and I’m excited to go into it without the complexity I faced before.

Until I share news on our coming collection, browse the new pieces I’ve added to our website!