It’s the middle of the night and I am all chuffed as I just finished giving an exceptionally easy feed. I should sleep but, since we are heading home from hospital in the morning, I wanted to take some time to write.
Our daughter, our little miracle, arrived on Monday evening. She is perfect and we are so unbelievably happy.
I haven’t cried when I saw the positive pregnancy test or when I got out of the 12 week scan (I instead rewarded myself with a slice of carrot cake, a muffin AND a chocolate chip cookie..). I hardly shed a tear when the midwife put her on my chest after she was born. But on Tuesday morning all tears came up when I saw her next to us and heard my husband say “the IVF doctor was right: ugly embryos can also make beautiful babies”.
My mum asked me if I can now say thay all the injections and struggles were worth it. I love my mum but that’s a silly question… She is definitely worth every minute of waiting, every injection, every cycle, and even more. But that was never the issue. The issue was knowing whether there would ever be a baby at the end of it. Now that she’s here I can only better measure my luck that our lazy little embryo has made it safely to our arms.
Right, this post can win messiest and cheesiest post of the blog. Sorry about that. You can blame it on hormones, lack of sleep or overdose of happiness. Before I go, let me send a quick request to the universe: there are a few embryos under decision making, please have them decide to stick!