Smiracles: Epilogue

Part III

God left the world unfinished for man to work his skill upon. He left the electricity in the cloud, the oil in the earth. He left the rivers unbridged, the forests unfelled and the cities unbuilt. God gives to us the challenge of raw materials, not the ease of finished things. He leaves the pictures unpainted and the music unsung and the problems unsolved, that we might know the joys and glories of creation.
– Thomas S. Monson

I might add, "He left the babies unmade."

ANXIOUSLY ENGAGED

After the three amigos were implanted I had to wait out a slow-motion two week tick-tock before returning to Dr. A for the blood test of blood tests. I had no intention of cheating with an at-home pregnancy test in case a false negative tricked my pink stripes. 

Projects and putting my shoulder to the wheel have long been the well-worn tools that reduce my boiling anxiety to a simmer. To keep myself humming like a busy bee for fourteen sleeps* I designed Greg's Oreck store Christmas mailer, a task I generally complain about due to the total hours necessary for completion. I offered my template to all the franchise owners in the nation hoping I could add to the $50 freelance egg sitting in my business account. Nine franchise owners ended up taking my bait and I made $2700 in two weeks; an abnormal chunk of change for my thin wallet. It dawned on me I almost earned enough to pay for The Blast. I was only $400 short.

Four-leaf clover and giant horseshoe alert: Dr. A failed to inform me about $360 of eligible mail-in rebates for some of my fertility drugs. I copied the receipts, licked the envelopes, put the flag up on my mailbox, and cashed checks within two weeks. The Blast went from $3100 to $40 in less than a month.

The Lord pre-counted the cost and paved me a path to the bank; all I had to do was walk there one step at a time. This is why again and again I believe in the blessing of hard work, or as the Book of Mormon calls it: being anxiously engaged in a good cause. Only if I lift my foot to go somewhere can the Lord put it down in a good place. That good place is usually a shortcut to a better place. My heavy lifting + many guided steps = how I got from Kansas to the Emerald City without even knowing a technicolor world existed.

PRUNING TODAY HELPS TOMORROW GROW RIGHT

The last night of waiting finally arrived; in the morning it would be all or nothing. I needed assurance and calming so I got my ipad and pulled up the Mormon Messages channel on Youtube. I felt like I should watch Elder D. Todd Christofferson's message "The Will of God" since that very thing was about to be known. It is a true story about an untamed currant bush who only reached its potential after being cut down; the metaphor being God is the gardener and we are the wild bushes confusedly believing life means size, not fruit. After I watched it I secretly hoped I had already been cut down with the miscarriage and the failed IVF and the 12 years of no baby. I did not want to be pruned in the morning yet I loved God, so in the back of my mind I heard myself promise But if not...**

I slept like I had to catch a morning flight, meaning I caught 18 winks and tossed a kajillion times. Finally the sky turned light and it was D-Day, VJ-Day, Baby-Day, Deja-Vu-Day; either way it was the end of my war with infertility. I was pregnant or about to move on down another path. I dressed in my teal polka-dot blouse and orange lightweight cardigan. (I feel naked without a cardigan and need one within reaching distance. Same thing with a water bottle. Is there a legitimate phobia related to the absence of sweaters and water?) Greg was downstairs methodically putting on his man accessories; wedding ring, watch, wallet, earpiece. I heard the garage open. It was go time. I knelt on my side of the bed and offered one last sincere prayer. Heavenly Father, I will know in less than an hour if I'm pregnant. I want to be pregnant. I've done everything in my power to do so. Please let it be time for me to bloom. If it's not time help me accept it with grace and double help me to not become a bitter, angry person. I completely trust thy plan for me and feel peaceful within that trust.

I did, in fact, have a bud that would bloom in summer. (I still have the HCG test strip with its declarative stripe. I'd bronze it but the bronze would mask the celebration.) Four more weeks would tell how many embryos took. Greg joked about Huey, Dewey, and Louie a lot over the next month until one day I gave him my gorgon face and assured him I would turn him to stone if he toyed with me one second longer. Possible triplets never seemed funny to me. The 6 1/2 week ultrasound showed ONE baby with ABUNDANT MOVEMENT. Dr. A wrote that in his chart. He also noted the embryo had PERFECT PLACEMENT which didn't mean anything to me at the time; I wrote it down on my notepad nonetheless.

PERFECT PLACEMENT IS OFTEN UNNOTICED

After Archer had safely arrived and it was time for me to get wheeled to my room the L&D nurse gave me a parting gift of coral baby socks with anchors on them. Jesus, Savior, pilot me over life's tempestuous sea. As if I could have gotten Archer without my anchor. She casually mentioned how surprised she was he came naturally. I asked her what she meant. She explained IVF babies are often c-sections (90% according to her) because the embryo implants low which causes the placenta to cover the cervix and block the path for a traditional birth. I instantly remembered PERFECT PLACEMENT and knew what it meant. If I had known I was at such high risk for a c-section I would have worried myself crazy for nine months instead of savoring what I assumed was my last pregnancy. (I still assume it but a little part of me wonders if wonders have not ceased...my 40s could be magical.)

HINDSIGHT SMIRACLE

Archer was due July 4. All eight pounds of him were born a week early on June 27. Then the bills came pouring in. Cha-ching, cha-ching, I was happy to pay for a baby and wrote smiley faces on my invoices.

August 1 our insurance plan renewed and unbeknownst to us the new deductible more than doubled to a mind-boggling $13K. My mind went back to that Sunday at Dr. A's office where he presented me with The Great Choice: to blast, or to abort the cycle and wait another month. When Greg and I discussed our options we knew if we didn't blast we'd have to wait at least four months to try IVF again; the winter retail season would have to pass. If we had done a later IVF Archer would have been due far beyond August 1 and could have cost an extra $7K from what we paid. If I had not had perfect embryo placement and required a c-section he would have cost every bit of $13K. Yes, it's just money, but oh how thankful I am the Lord was aware of our insurance plan alongside our flock, field, and household.

THIS END IS JUST THE BEGINNING

If I learned anything in the saga of bringing Archer to earth it is how involved the Lord is in our lives. He is involved because we are the workmanship of his hands; an artist cannot forget his masterpieces. I also learned what absolute trust in God feels like and it feels better than anything I ever scrounged up left to my own devices. You can't outsmart Omniscient, you can't underestimate Infinite and Eternal, and you can't question the middle motives of one who sees the end from the beginning.

"Who am I, saith the Lord, that have promised and have not fulfilled?"

-Doctrine and Covenants 58:31

*My parents' technique for counting down to the things we could hardly wait for, i.e. "Six more sleeps until Christmas" or "Three more sleeps until school is out".

**Daniel 3:17-18