The Blessing of Happiness

Danielle Alderman

No one ever said it would be easy – did they? Happiness . . . What is happiness to you? What does happiness mean to you? Is it something you have at your fingertips but haven't taken advantage of yet?

After nearly six years of trying to conceive, we headed into what I knew would be our last attempt with a fresh IVF cycle, and I was happy. After many years of effort, many remedies, supplements, treatments, approaches and attempts I had finally achieved happiness. And much to my surprise, this happiness had no direct correlation to anything reproductive. I had found balance in a place where happiness surrounded me. In fact, my happiness didn't come from my job, my husband, my family or my extra-curricular activities. There was nothing physically tangible about my happiness; it was simply something in me. It was me. I was happy with nothing and everything at the same time. I was reminded that happiness is not something that is handed to you; it is not simply an object or a gift to be taken for granted. Happiness is more than that. It's something that requires great effort and determination and once it's achieved, it must be maintained. Happiness comes to those who seek it, who cherish it and who share it. And by golly, once you find that happiness, you had best not let go. That effort and appreciation have to continue to maintain it. Happiness cannot exist without being supported. Happiness cannot shield us from fear, frustration or doubt, but it can be a tool to help us move past these feelings.

As the start date for our final fresh IVF cycle approached, I reflected back on the years and the treatments, nearly five years of medical interventions. Twelve months of drugs to stimulate my ovaries; four more attempts with pills and IUIs, followed by five attempts with IUIs and injectable medications; one disastrous attempt with IVF, and two more frozen embryo transfers. It’s pretty safe to say that no one could accuse us of not trying. With all that baggage and experience I would be a liar if I said I wasn't scared and I didn't have doubts. But I can say that this time was different.

Sure, scientifically one could point out the medical protocol differences for this cycle, but there was more to it than that. This time I had a happiness I didn't have before, a happiness that could offer me strength, courage and support; a happiness that assured me that no matter what, this was the beginning of something new. Life would be different in four weeks’ time.

As I mentally prepared myself for the financial strain of yet another attempt with IVF, the physical demands of the medications, the memories of past cycles, the emotional strain of it all, I wrote a letter to my little angel who had been at my side this entire time.

January 7th, 2009, I made an entry on my blog entitled "Elly, are you Ready?"

Elly are you ready? I know you've been traveling with us a long time – such a very, very long time. There have been many ups and downs. There have been moments of question, anger and doubt, but through it all you've been here, I know it because only a Mother's love knows.

Your Father and I have loved you from the moment we conceived you in our imaginations. We have loved you from the moment that our hearts connected and you were born . . . out there, yet right here all along.

It's been tough at times. To know that love and to crave you here with us, yet encountering so many obstacles and disappointments. We've done all that we could and more than we ever imagined we ever would. Many people question why or how we find it in ourselves to do it, but it's for you. It's always been for you.

Our dearest Elly . . . this is it. I can only imagine that the transition from there to here is going to be tough and maybe even a little scary, but trust us, we will protect you and love you and do everything to keep you safe from harm’s way. Dear Elly, we've done all that we can. We have sacrificed more than we'd ever imagined and if we knew for sure it would work I imagine that we'd continue to do it all. But we've learned there are no guarantees – no matter how big the dreams, no matter how strong the will.

Elly, with our hearts filled with love, we ask that you help us – please. Please find the strength and the courage to make this journey. Please see the opportunity, the offering and the sacrifices that we've made for you to join us. When the time is right, please, dear please make the transition from a fairy tale dream to a living, breathing angel on earth. Look to your great Grandmothers . . . they are there with you now. They can help you, guide you and protect you.

Princess Elizabeth, my little fairy princess. We're ready; this is it. It's time. Let my womb nurture you. Let my womb keep you warm and safe from harm’s way. Come meet your Father, he's been waiting for so long and loves you so much. Let us hold you, teach you and learn from you. Let us laugh, live and love together. Help us learn what the union of parenthood means.

Dearest Elly, Fairy Princess Elizabeth... it's time. May you be as ready as we are.

Much Love,

Mom and Dad

With that entry I realized that I was going to have to put my ego and my desires aside and I surrendered my body to science for one last try. I spoke out loud to our little angel and I told her plain and simply. Opportunity will only knock so many times. Opportunities will come, but there will be no further guarantees that opportunity will come again anytime soon, if ever again, in this manner. As I surrendered to the process, the science, the injections and the emotions, I realized and accepted that this would be it – really and truly it. Even though I felt that I could be done, that I was happy and that I could move on without this attempt with IVF, I did it all for them. For my husband, my family, my angels, my friends. For all those prayers and wishes of support.

No two attempts with assisted reproduction are ever the same. As the days rolled into weeks, I followed protocol and did everything by the book as only an experienced veteran can. I didn't stress about perfection with timing and accuracy. I lived life, I laughed loud and I trusted that little voice within me that said to keep moving forward.

The egg retrieval was no more pleasant the second time around than it was the first. The difference was that this time there were just more drugs to make me incoherent. This time around there weren’t as many eggs and we added ICSI to the mix: a step that I hesitated on, as it took away my last excuse that this was almost "natural" and that I wasn't a complete science project.

As the next couple of days passed and we got our reports that things were progressing well, we prepared for our transfer. Having traveled this road once before, this step of the process came with so much more excitement as we recalled just how cool it was the last time watching our two embryos transferred. And we weren't disappointed.

Fourteen eggs were retrieved. Seven were mature and all seven fertilized with ICSI. By the time our day 3 transfer came along we had four remaining high-quality, good-grade embryos. Of the four, two were transferred. The standard two-week wait that followed was average in many respects, but at the same time incredibly different. It was different in that there was a very strong awareness and understanding that this could very well be our last wait regardless of the outcome. Frozen embryos or not, this was it.

As the days passed, there were moments of doubt. Memories of the first fresh IVF cycle and the bleeding that came after only seven days. But for the first time the fears and memories and doubts were not weights carrying me down. Instead, this time they were like leaves floating down a stream, passing me by for a moment. This time I had a warmth that surrounded me from the inside out. I had a peace that calmed me and a faith like I'd never had before, along with the realization that faith never said it was destiny, and that I am here fully and completely of my own accord.

Well, as we head into the fall months, our lives will have changed with the seasons. Two high school sweethearts who have shared a common dream and desire for so long to expand their love and have a family have finally achieved success. Our second and final IVF attempt was successful. Of the two little embryos that were transferred one strong little baby girl to be named Elizabeth “Elly” Alexandra will be joining our family. With nearly six of our fifteen-year relationship invested into this little princess, we look forward to our lives together. We extend an incredible thank you greater than words can express to all the friends, family and strangers who’ve been silently respecting our space, but praying and supporting us through this entire journey. We could have never imagined that so many people would keep hope alive and believe in us much as they do. Thank you.

As for happiness . . . I work to maintain this incredible blessing every day and hope that I never take it for granted again. Now I just have little reminder not to lose sight of the things that matter most.

About the Author

Danielle and her husband Jeff were teenage sweethearts and have been enjoying life together since 1994. Following their marriage in 2001, they decided to start growing their family in April 2003. Largely undiagnosed, they fall under the category of “unexplained” infertility. Having been to the edge and back medically, mentally and physically, they are now pregnant with a baby girl and turning the final corner on the road to their shared dream of parenthood. Danielle can be contacted at DanielleAlderman@hotmail.com