Thud.

That's the sound of the other shoe dropping. The sound of the book closing on this chapter in our lives. The sound of my heart plummeting from (let’s be honest, it was never on the penthouse floor—but maybe 5 or 6?) to the basement level. The sound of the cash register door jerking open to reveal no more rainy day funds. 

Our beta today: 0.

Those were the last of our frozen embryos. I’m heartbroken. The story I was writing in my mind for our snowbabies always starred the last little frozen embryo from the IVF that gave us our triplet sons in ’08 as the one that would implant and grow, giving us the chance to raise the fourth of those children, since we didn’t get the chance to experience life with our first sons. 

Infertility treatments, while they can be miraculous, are certainly not fairy tales, though. Sadly the embryo from DC appeared to have passed away before the transfer last Friday—it stopped growing during the thaw and was just a mass of dead cells. I still had high hopes for our remaining two, but it seems that it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe our embryos don’t thaw well (though they looked perfect on paper) or maybe my lining has deteriorated (though our RE said it looked great); I don’t know. I’m sure our RE will want to do a follow-up appointment, although at this point we have no plans for moving forward. We have no funds left to cover another treatment; in fact, I’m already having heart palpitations just looking at my credit card bill from the last FET. It was $3,000, so that makes $6,000 spent this year on trying to complete our family. That’s $6,000 we didn’t really have to spend, but it seemed worth the gamble to have a chance at giving Tate a brother or sister.

What I feel right now is…THUD. Like a heavy weight that’s been dropped on the floor. Just very, very sad.

I keep reminding myself how lucky we are to have T in our lives. I’m so grateful for the chance to raise him. I’ve never felt that our lives would be missing something if we remain “just” a family of three—because there’s no “just” related to Tate. He’s everything. He’s the world to us. If anything, that’s what worries me—I never want him to feel responsible for us, for our happiness. I don’t ever want him to feel that he’s alone. And while he has three angel brothers looking out for him in heaven, it’s just not quite the same as having a brother or sister here on earth.  

I'm not willing to say that the dream of another child is over for good today, but it's taken a major hit.  THUD.  The sound of a dream colliding with reality.