Preparing for another transfer…

I’ve officially decided I’m transferring our last embryo. He deserves a chance. Why wouldn’t he? Simply because some lab said he had an extra set of all chromosomes? Maybe he does. Maybe he doesn’t.

Polyploidy results are one of the number one testing errors of IVF is done with ICSI. Because ICSI is specifically selecting one sperm. There’s no chance this embryo was double fertilized. It could be an egg issue. It could be an error.

He could be nothing but a cancerous blob of a molar pregnancy never developing a heartbeat and causing me to need chemo, maybe even a hysterectomy. BUT, but he could also be a perfect baby. The odds are 50/50. I’m betting them on my sweet, frozen boy. What if I get cancerous cells? BUT what if I don’t?

I truly believe he won’t implant, nothing will happen and I will have spent a lot of money on additional heartbreak of failure to implant. Or he’ll implant and I’ll finally get my perfect baby. Should I be more worried? Maybe. But I’m not. I’m not worried at all. Whatever is meant to be will be. Yet, I’ll never know if I don’t give him the chance at life.

I’m too pro life to just discard this embryo because he could give me tumors. I’d take a million tumors at the chance of being his mother. Even if that chance is only 1%. I’m praying for the best, preparing for nothing. Ignoring the worst case scenario.

If… when… he lives – his name will be Graham. That’s my future son’s name. He’ll have red hair, tan skin, brown eyes, big pouty lips, the most perfect nose and be a truly perfect human. I can imagine him now.

I’m so scared he won’t live. Yet, the possibilities are worth the possible heartbreak. My heart will forever be broken since losing Annabelle. Nothing can fix that. Yet, the thought of possibly having a son brightens that gloom. I just worry. Once he’s transferred. I’ll have nothing left to look forward to. He’s currently my last hope. That’s scary – the thought of a world that doesn’t include a glimmer of hope.

Nobody has really transferred a XXY embryo. I’ve saw two ladies have perfect babies from XXX embryos. One having a perfect set of identical twins. Proving what some think – polyploid embryos during ICSI are just tested right as the blastocyst is getting ready to split. Creating identical twins. All 3 babies are healthy. Nobody wants to try the possible boys tho – Because boys have a higher risk of molar pregnancies. Nobody wants the risk. But the biggest rewards have the biggest risks. Right? I’m taking the chance and if nothing else I can report back to my support group I tried and I failed. The end. Maybe someone else will try. Maybe one of our “should be discarded” embryos will grow into a magnificent baby that does great good for the world. Just maybe. I’m willing to take the leap. I have faith. I can do this.

If I survive the medication of course – just resumed the immune protocol. Remembering why steroids give me rage. Remembering the insomnia. The side effects. A week in exactly and it’s rough. But better than I remembered. Of course I know retrievals are harder. Prepping my body to carry a baby is nothing compared to that. I’ve talked with the clinic and they’re ready when I’m ready. So, CD 1 in September I’ll let them know. We’ll begin meds. And ideally transfer right around the end of September. Nearly on the day Annabelle left this world for Heaven. It’s a sign to me. A sign great things are to come – She’ll give us a rainbow baby or her brother will join her.

I pray for the rainbow. Badly. Beg for it. However, I’ll be at peace just knowing what I did was right. Knowing I didn’t discard a possible living being. Knowing I gave this sweet baby and all the babies before him a chance. Instead of using IVF for gender selection or perfect timing and simply throwing what didn’t fit into my life away. I’ll know I never gave up.

One of my favorite quotes… Imagine getting to Heaven and hearing a voice you’ve never heard before shout “MAMA”!…. I can’t wait for the day I get to hear Annabelle’s little voice for the first time. In the meantime, I pray I hear her brothers sweet voice even sooner.

Just 7 more weeks and I should at least know the beginning of this outcome. Hopefully, learning in 7 weeks he implanted and maybe in 9 weeks hearing his heartbeat.

One can dream. I love you so much my little frozen baby.