A Surprise No One Can Prepare for

When I posted my last blog, I was completely shattered. I had cried so hard and can truly say I have never felt as heartbroken as I did while writing those words. The sadness of the heartbreak surrounded me everyday. The pain of the loss of hope taunted me and kept me up at night. I can't explain this one missing piece of my sadness. Even though I was in shambles, wrecked, and devastated beyond repair, I felt comforted. In those sad days, I felt loved and allowed to cry. If you're like me, sometimes you just need to feel invited into a safe place and give yourself permission to cry. It is okay to cry about "it," whatever your "it" may be...if you need to cry, go ahead and cry. Through each tear, I felt closer than ever to The Father. There was not a moment in my sadness that He wasn't there. Though the cloud of despair seemed unbearable, He was mightier and sat there with me.

Aug 21st I posted about our first miscarriage. About losing our sweet Embaby, Hope. It took me months to allow those words to flow out of me. Little did I know that story would not be the hardest one I would write.

Aug. 25th, I called my RE to tell them we had still not started a new cycle post miscarriage. The nurse told me to take a pregnancy test to just see if I was pregnant. I was annoyed by her daunting proposal to take the dreaded pregnancy test. Obviously, I have them on hand, but I am traumatized after taking so many and never getting the positive result. So I begrudgingly took the pregnancy test that morning.

POSITIVE...IT WAS POSITIVE. I jumped up, ran to my husbands office (luckily he is working from home, so it is less embarrassing than you think) and said, "I've never seen it say that!" As I burst into tears. I cried...soooo many tears. How can this be? We have a less than 1% chance. We have done all the tests, we know what the results say. HOW IN THE WORLD?

Brandon and I hit our knees. We thanked God for this miracle. I called my OB for a HCG beta lab work. I called my bestie, we cried and rejoiced together, yet I didn't let myself get too excited. With every effort, I tried to remain calm, just incase this news was too good to be true.

That afternoon, my HCG was 6404 and my progesterone was a little "low", so they put me on some progesterone pills. I told my RE, and they calculated that I was 5 and a half weeks at that moment. 5 WEEKS! Meaning we got pregnant right after the miscarriage. I was so excited. I cried so much. When we got the results, we were too eager, so we told the people who prayed alongside us. Rejoicing for this baby happened immediately. We prayed everything would be normal because we would have another beta in 2 days.

August 25th and 26th were our only days of joy. In those two days, we bought cute announcement shirts for our sweet nieces and nephews. We planned the perfect way to announce at Christmas. We could hardly wait. We remained faithful and prayed that whatever progesterone level I had would be normal, so we would have a healthy baby. We didn't share the news with everyone, just a few people because we couldn't hold this surprise in.

Our next HCG beta was on Aug. 27, my husband's birthday. Brandon has the most encouraging faith and knew that there would only be good news on his birthday. What better gift than a baby for his birthday?

Beta test #2, My OB scheduled a zoom to share the results. We were scared. A zoom meeting gave us the feeling that bad news was afoot. We are all too familiar with this protocol. We hesitantly joined the zoom with all of our hope as though it was the air in our lungs. When Dr. D began to speak, the Earth suddenly stopped. I heard every other word. HCG...dropped...slightly...not viable... Then the zoom was over. I called my RE. I was in shock. I didn't believe what was said. Could this be? It was unfathomable. Dr. C requested another beta and told me not to stress until they get a sono and to request another HCG beta. I hung up the phone and lost every ounce of hope left in my lungs.

I hit my knees and looked at Brandon, with utter disbelief...this can't be happening. I cried. He cried. No amount of tears felt enough. The sheer terror we felt in that moment remains still.

I called my OB. He said they couldn't do another test until Monday and based on those results, they'll do a sono.

We cried that whole afternoon. I hate that my husband's golden birthday was saturated by grief. I can remember Brandon looking at me and telling me, "No, this isn't happening. We are believing for our miracle baby. Even now. We will believe in the One who is in the business of miracles. We are going to celebrate my birthday." So we did. It was hard. All I wanted to do was cry the whole time. But then I would remember that Brandon is worthy of celebration, he is my biggest supporter, he had held my hand through every hard moment of this journey. I was capable of holding his hand on what would be the hardest birthday of his.

During what is probably the worst part of our journey, we experienced glimmers of goodness. Have you ever had the sweetest moments in the midst of pain? It seems unrealistic, but we did. From the cuddles we got from our sweet Emmy girl to the silly games our Boss boy would play with us, to the kindness so freely given by our people. Those moments during our emotional hurricane we were facing are glimpses of Love. They wrapped us up and made us feel okay, though we knew we were far from really being okay.

Aug 31st we woke up, prayed for a miracle, and went to the doctor. I don't think there's a more difficult room to sit in than sitting amongst pregnant ladies dreading the news that I would miscarry again. It's as though those of us awaiting bad news should have our very own waiting room.

Monday, Aug 31st marked 6 weeks. We were 6 weeks, yet we only knew a whole 6 days about this baby...6 DAYS. That is and will always be the hardest part for me. I didn't even know the miracle I was carrying. I left the lab, and went home to wait. We got the call at 1pm. My HCG dropped and so did my progesterone. The nurse gave us the news. She didn't ever offer condolences, she simply said "it happens sometimes." I threw my phone and hit the ground. Brandon embraced me as I told him what they said. We cried, There will never be enough tears shed about this.

That same day my RE called me from her personal phone. Dr. C offered her condolences, she encouraged me and tried to say, "this embryo was probably another one that was abnormal and not viable." She suggested PGT for our next round of IVF, and asked me to come in for a check on Wednesday so we could make a plan going forward.

Wednesday changed everything. My RE didn't find the sac and feared this pregnancy was ectopic or had already began to miscarry. Dr. C recommended we stay in town for monitoring. The thought of staying because they didn't know what was happening was earth shattering. Only being given possibilities that are frightening was as though I was kicked while I was already down. That very weekend I was suppose to be showering my older sister, Amanda, with wedding nonsense at her Bachelorette party. I had planned this party down to the minute, but I would miss it. Instead, we would wait in a hotel room across the street from the clinic. Nothing happened. They never found our baby intrauterine on any scan. They believed the miscarriage was already happening and my body would take care of it. With that news we were sent home. I had to monitor my HCG drop for the next 2 months. Dr. C really wanted this miscarriage to happen naturally, without administering any medicine or procedure.

I was sent home to wait for a nightmare. Little did I know I would have to get my HCG beta checked every Friday until it was normal. Waiting happened for months.

Waiting...September 2020

Spotting here and there, but nothing like the graphic detail they prepared me for. Labs showed my HCG was still dropping. I was waiting for this bad dream to be over. The hardest part of waiting is what happens during the waiting. The time before it happens for me could be described as the waiting room. The time where you simply wait. For me that waiting room was at the happiest time in my sisters life. Though I tried, the waiting of this nightmare to pass was consuming. I tried. I was as present as I could be. My husband is a saint. He kept me in check, and constantly encouraged me that though we're in this waiting room, I am created to love because Jesus loves me. So that is what I tried to do. I loved though I was barely hanging on. I love because He loves me. Broken, tear infested, angry, Amber. We persevered because of Jesus.

On the 25th, my big sister, Amanda, would marry the man of her dreams, Andy. Amanda has waited to be a wife longer than I have even thought about being a mother. I can't imagine she pictured her wedding being how it was. During the time leading up to their wedding, I would catch myself just hating that she missed out on this or that/the plans we had always dreamed up. Isn't it like God to change our plans we always thought of for something better? Even if we don't know it, his plan is far better. Getting married during a global PANDEMIC is not what anyone pictures for their perfect wedding, but perfection is not the goal of a marriage. Sometimes you stumble into your perfection, like Amanda and Andy did. The pandemic may have changed their plans, but everything about them entering into covenant with God was beautiful. It was a type of beauty that only God can make...thus perfection. The ceremony or reception may not have been as they imagined, but I pray their marriage is more spectacular than they ever knew imaginable.

Amanda and Andy entered into covenant at the time the Lord planned, at our beautiful family ranch with only immediate family there, and it was GOOD. Seeing my big sister in love and becoming a wife during the most unexpected season gave me hope that I can't describe. Like when you see the clouds part for a second during a storm. You see the sun beams in the grey clouds. It's beautiful even though it is bleak. Their wedding will always be the sunbeams streaking through the clouds of our storm.

Still Waiting...October 2020

October hit us hard. If you're not a dog lover, skip this next paragraph because it is littered with love for my sweet Cloudy boy. As this blog is called Being Brooks, Cloud is apart of our Being Brooks story.

The first week, everything remained the same as far as HCG dropping, but our fur baby Cloud got sick. Cloud is the most resilient little chihuahua you have ever met. He was attacked by a dog and survived, wandered streets in his earlier years and survived, survived rat poison TWICE, survived pancreatitis like a champ, and lived with an enlarged heart and collapsed trachea like it was normal. October 4th, we noticed he was limping, so we took him to the vet. The vet told us our old pup had a torn ACL. We laughed because Cloud is anything but active. Due to his heart being so bad and having a cough from the collapsed trachea, he lived his life either sleeping on the best dog bed you've ever seen or in someone's lap. We didn't think it was a big deal. So the following day, we went to see his vet specialist in Lubbock. Our baby Cloudy was sick. His pancreatitis was back. We agreed to IV fluids for the day to see if he could fight it. We took him home, and would bring him back for a check-up on the 6th to see if the meds and fluids helped. Through that night, he stopped eating and using the bathroom. We knew the end was near, but weren't prepared for how fast it happened. October 6th he was lifeless. He could barely lift his head. There were moments driving to the vet where we thought he stopped breathing. The vet suggested we either put him in a 24 hour ER with little hope that he could make it through, or spend his last moments with him and put him out of his pain.

I cried. Brandon cried. We agreed. We held him one last time for not enough time. We kissed him one last time. We pet his cute little head, watching him try to meet our hand with his head as he's always done. We knew it was his time. We said one of the hardest goodbyes. Dr. Ish was so gracious and sympathetic to us. They gave us his paw print in a concrete setting. I am forever thankful for his veterinarian. Even during this global pandemic, we held hands and pet our Cloud as his life stopped. Saying goodbye to him was hard because we love him so much. If love was a medication that could save him, we had plenty to save him. October 6th, our family lost a piece of our heart. I am thankful Brandon brought Cloud into my life.

Second week, nothing new. HCG still slowly dropping. At this point, I had become friends with the nurse who took my blood every week.

The week of October 18th, my HCG went up. Which in normal situations is good, but in my situation, it was not. October 19th a slight increase occurred again, but not enough that would signal a viable pregnancy. Due to the sudden change, Dr. C called and requested we come in ASAP for an appointment. It took us 5 and a half hours to drive there because we were at my family's ranch. The whole drive, I was in panic mode. I didn't understand why this was happening. I cried because I was bleeding for the first time since we started waiting for this nightmare. When we got there, I had to go in alone. I really hate this Covid world where I have to hear the worst news alone. After many tests, Dr. C explained that tissue had planted itself in my fallopian tube and was causing an ectopic pregnancy. They explained the course of treatment. Again, I was in disbelief. They kept saying "tissue." I cried and just couldn't handle it. How can I not even miscarry right? The sweetest nurse gave me tissues and explained that the medicine, Methotrexate, they would administer will "resolve this issue" because if not treated, it could be dangerous to my well being. I cried as I signed release forms, I cried as the doctor explained it was better for my health, I cried as they gave me the shot, I cried as I ran out of that appointment and into Brandon's arms. Again, no tears can be shed enough when you have to make the hardest decision about a nightmare.

I have cried most days since this nightmare. We found out we would lose our baby at 6 weeks, but it took my body a ridiculous amount of time and a medication for it to happen. The following blow would hit next. By taking Methotrexate, we couldn't conceive or go forward with another egg retrieval for our next round of IVF for 3 months after taking Methotrexate. On top of waiting for this nightmare, we would then have to wait 3 months to start again on our journey.

I have told Brandon I am a pro at waiting. I love the olympics, and I think I deserve a gold medal in waiting. Realistically though, I know everyone waits for something. Some people are like us and have seasons of waiting. They say you are refined in the waiting, Waiting helps you in the long run, waiting isn't that bad. So here I am reflecting on the waiting.

In these past almost 5 months, I have cried out to my Savior in anger, in brokenness, and in the quiet. Each and every time, I have felt an overwhelming love that I can't explain.

Am I "passed" it or "better?" No, not in the least. I still have "sad days" where I just put on music and cry. Was I ready for the Holiday Season? Nope, not at all. BUT I tried. I baked with my mom and focused on giving myself grace. Am I okay now, in January 2021? I would say I am close to being okay. To me, being okay is not defined by what is socially appropriate or culturally appropriate. You being okay is inwardly focused. Only you know if you're okay. And if you're not okay, that's completely fine. It has taken me a while to even be close to okay. Grief has no timeline. It is not linear. It just happens. Being okay will come, but for now I am trying.

One thing that gets me through the hardest days is knowing that when our precious baby opened their eyes, the first thing they saw was Jesus. Though our angel baby never filled my arms, he will forever be in my heart.

As for us, our wait ends soon. If my cycle lines up with the correct date of 3 months post Methotrexate, we're good to go with the next cycle. If not, then the following cycle. Meaning our Round 4 of IVF is coming soon!