We thought it was going to be so easy…

Ryker is our day 7 green repeated Rainbow Baby for my National Rainbow Baby Day Project!

DISCLAIMER – THIS POST DISCUSSES PREGNANCY LOSS, BLOOD, GRAPHIC CONTENT.

This is my story of how my family helped me defeat infertility….

“One of our greatest freedoms is how we react to things” – The Boy, the mole, the fox, and the horse

I grew up without a real desire of having children of my own. My identical twin was the baby doll loving, homemaking dreamer, who wanted to work with children, or even in the NICU. Fast forward now and she has 8 children of her own ( 4 biological and 4 adopted) and she works for the OBGYN as a Nurses Aid, and has her own soap business that was inspired by her children.

I on the other hand desired the big city fashion and editorial Photography while also desperately wanting to disappear out west taking landscapes and living in a van. When I was in College at Ball State I fell pregnant almost immediately after meeting my first husband, with Xander. His pregnancy was by far the easiest, birth, and even his early childhood. His life gave me real purpose and a love I had never experienced before – unconditional. I created a real bond with him, and enjoyed every bit of his first few years.

Fast forward 2+ years and even though we weren’t preventing pregnancy, the first month we actually tried for another, here came Connor. His pregnancy was pretty normal, just a little bit more painful, and sleepless. His birth was incredibly painful, and he came out frowning in protest. All was normal though, and he even breast fed for two full years.

When I met my second husband I had an IUD for many years, but he really wanted 2 or 3 children of his own. After our wedding we caught west Nile virus while on our honeymoon in Puerto Rico, and was advised to not try for a baby for 6 months to be safe.

We started trying and tracking ovulation in December of 2016 after my IUD was removed. I proclaimed to him that I was very fertile with how easy pregnancy had happened in the past, but with each month of negative tests we grew worried. After 6 months of trying just about everything, I got a positive pregnancy test. We joked about girls and twins since I was very nauseous, and my stomach even grew faster than I had expected. Each doctors appt I measured ahead of schedule and sure enough when I finally got an ultrasound we were in for a big surprise!

Our first ultrasound was at 11 weeks, but I was measuring 14. The minute she stuck the wand onto me we saw two and we all gasped and laughed, with my husband immediately covering his mouth in shock. “I knew it!” I proclaimed! This excitement was quickly extinguished by the sorrowful eyes of our tech stating that she needed to go get the doctor. The doctor came in, did her own looks at both the babies, and then proclaimed that they were identical, were in the same sac, and had no heartbeats. They had passed at 8 weeks.

I absolutely lost it.

To be an identical twin, with an incredibly close bond with my sister, and to be pregnant with identical twins was something of dreams. BUT now it was a living nightmare.

They shuttled us into another room to cry.

Our options were to let them pass out of me naturally at home, or have a D&C, which is a medical procedure categorized as an abortion. They told me my HCG levels were too high, they were worried about sepsis if I went home and let my body naturally go into its own labor on its own time. So we proceeded with a D&C.

The day came and my husband and twin came with me for the procedure. I remember rubbing my stomach and telling them goodbye just before the anesthesiologist came into the room. They were so wanted. I pleaded with God, asking him why he would do this to me. To give me twins and then to take them away felt like some sick joke or prank, that started my resentment with God.

When the procedure was over I felt intense cramping, but I felt empty. My stomach had felt full, and heavy with them, but now felt hollow.

Two weeks later tissue results revealed they had been chromosomally normal identical . twin . girls.

I lost it again.

We named them Clara and Christa, and had them cremated and their ashes blown into glass jewelry and urns.

We were advised to wait at least a month before trying again. My husband had an intense desire for his own biological child, and after losing the twins, I felt incredibly determined that this was some kind of fluke and that the next pregnancy would be our rainbow baby.

3 months after our loss I got another positive test. This time my doctors office wanted to monitor my HCG levels, and sure enough they weren’t looking quite right. at 6 weeks and 3 days pregnant I woke up at 6am, alone, with what I could only describe as labor contractions. I knew immediately what was happening. I jumped off the bed and ran to the toilet. There was so much blood. I had never seen that much blood come out of me, even at Xander and Connors births. I grasped onto the sink during another contraction and felt my whole body go into a cold sweat. I knew I needed to push, and with only 1 came a giant relief of all of my pain. I had just miscarried into the toilet.

I hate to admit, but my sons were banging at my bathroom door to see their mother and for breakfast, and I slipped a pad and new clothing on and pretended that nothing had just happened.

After they were off on the school bus, I went back into the bathroom to clean up the blood and to investigate. I knew of this baby for only two weeks, and was so sure this was going to be our living baby. I fished my miscarriage out of the toilet to see if I could see any form of a baby inside it, but I couldn’t. I regret that I ended up flushing. We called that pregnancy baby Trinity, since it was our 3rd loss.

Only two months later I was met again with another positive pregnancy test, just two days before Christmas. I was hopeful, but also terrified to be happy. The doctors office scheduled an earlier ultrasound at 7 weeks because of my now reoccurring history, and we held our breath the whole way to that appointment. That ultrasound we saw a healthy heartbeat with out baby actually bouncing around.

At our 9 week appt to take blood to find out gender and chromosome test, and another ultrasound we were met again with no heartbeat. Our baby had died just 5 days after our first healthy ultrasound. We were so sure this ultrasound was going to be positive that we even invited my husbands mother to it. Once again I had a D&C, tissue testing, cremation. This time she had trisomy 13. She was a girl, and we called her Ava.

I felt empty, again.

IVF

The doctors office referred us to a fertility clinic to get possible genetic testing done on ourselves. Maybe we were genetically incompatible.

Just like Chelsea Burrell said in her story “I was not going to be ok until there was a baby in my arms.” That is how I felt too! Fertility related journals, Facebook groups, books, etc. were all I consumed. I became obsessed with figuring out why we couldn’t have a healthy baby make it to the 2nd trimester.

My anxiety and depression was at full steam, but I ignored it, because I was a woman on a mission.

“Grief carves a place in the heart and sits there forever, but when focused can be a powerful motivator, Sadness becomes resolve. Pain becomes action.” – A discovery of Witches Netflix show

Everything and everyone blamed my body, or destiny.

Nothing gave me comfort.

No one.

All the words were repeated by people, to the point of exhaustion, and I wanted to snap at them, but I also knew they only tried to comfort me in the only way they knew how.

At our first appointment at Indiana Fertility Institute I was happy that my doctor was going to be a woman. They sat us down in a tiny room with a round table as we answered basic questions about our story. In came Dr. Provost, a tall young beautiful woman. We went over the same things we had gone over with the nurse, then she discussed our options and what she recommended. She wanted to immediately take our blood for genetic testing, and do an ultrasound. Eric gave 4 vials of blood, and I gave 11. During my ultrasound she believed she saw something on the lining of my uterus, so she recommended we do a saline sonogram at my next appointment.

At our next appointment we were informed that our genetic testing came back with nothing. We were compatible, nothing was wrong.

Still no answers.

Doctor Provost performed the Saline sonogram on me and took some images of my uterus. In the images there was clearly something in my uterus that shouldn’t be. She suggested we go ahead and do another D&C to scrape out what they found, and test it.

So, my 3rd D&C was performed, this time by Doctor Provost. The results were that what they found was leftover tissue from my previous pregnancy/D&C.

Back to square one.

Doctor Provost suggested we move ahead with IVF, not because we couldn’t get pregnant, but because she thought maybe my egg quality was potentially not as great as it could be at my age (30). She wanted to do Embryo testing to assure we were getting pregnant with genetically normal embryos, to better our odds.

My AMH level came back at 3.6. Which all the documents, groups, and Doctor Provost said was actually a great number.

We figured out financing, and then ordered my medications for an egg retrieval. Meanwhile, they did a semen test on my husband to figure out his side of things. His results came back to normal motility, and 87,000,000 sperm. He boasted about this every chance he could.

It wasn’t him.

I was grateful that he didn’t have an issue, but I was also a bit sour by it. We still couldn’t find anything wrong with either of us, but still I was the one to blame.

I started taking every vitamin, and eating every food that was suggested to me for egg quality. Egg Retrieval was set for April, and I started medications but was overwhelmed by the whole thing. On egg retrieval morning we had to be there super early, and as soon as I was motioned back for retrieval they took my husband to give his sample.

In the end we got 20 eggs. 15 fertilized, and 9 made it to blastocyst stage. They ended up taking biopsies from each one before freezing, but only 7 recovered from their biopsy and were able to be frozen.

We not so patiently waited for a month for the results. We had 6 normal embryos, and 1 abnormal. We then started prepping for a frozen transfer. Doctor Provost suggested that we only transfer 1 embryo since we now knew that they were genetically normal. We chose to transfer our very best girl embryo because we felt after all our girl losses were were meant to have a daughter.

Transfer day came, with an ok uterine lining, and it was a very strange experience walking into the building not pregnant, and walking out PUPO (Pregnant unless proven otherwise). I was very impatient and had purchased the thin strip stick pregnancy tests and I tested every day before and after transfer, analyzing every faint line. I rubbed my belly talking to my girl embryo, and encouraging her to get comfortable.

4 days after transfer I had a positive pregnancy test. I informed my doctors office and because of my past history they decided to go ahead and start HCG blood tests every two days to check for doubling. At first they were great numbers, but then they started to not quite double. At our 6 week ultrasound there was an empty sac inside my uterus. They said it could be 1 of 3 things: we couldn’t see baby just yet, it was a blighted ovum, or a phantom sac for an ectopic pregnancy. We had another ultrasound a week later and there was still no baby. Doctor Provost decided to give me a special shot that would hopefully cause my HCG levels to come down and for me to miscarry, but it didn’t. So she gave me another shot of the same thing, and it did stop the growth of HCG but I was in so much pain that I spent a night in the hospital. In the end, I did have to have another D&C.

A couple of months later we did another transfer, but this time we transferred two embryos. Yet again I was pregnant, and at our 6 week ultrasound there was an empty sac, and a collapsed empty sac. We waited for another ultrasound to confirm and then did another D&C.

At this point I was exhausted, mentally and physically.

Doctor Provost wanted to do an exploratory surgery to check for Endometriosis and Adenomyosis. They cut me open on my abdomen and also went through my vaginal wall to explore the inside and outside of my uterus and ovaries. They found no evidence of Endometriosis, but did send biopsies of the inside and outside of my uterus for testing. Their tests came back at a high probability of Adenomyosis in my uterus.

Even though I had never had symptoms of this, she felt it very possible that the Adenomyosis was causing issues with the placenta attaching to my uterine lining correctly; possibly detaching at some point in the first couple of weeks of pregnancy. There was also the question of the placental cells of our embryos in general, but no way of testing those.

Doctor Provost wanted to put me on an aggressive drug for 3 months to suppress the Adenomyosis. The side effects of this drug seemed scary, too scary for a maybe, after so much loss and exhaustion.

I was done.

I mentioned to my husband that maybe we could just adopt. I looked into baby adoption and fostering. He ultimately declined. He said “I have already adopted your children in my heart, if we are going to have another baby, I want it to be mine.”

I felt helpless. I wanted to make him happy, but I couldn’t do it, and I am not someone who gives up easily. I cannot except the word no, especially when I didn’t understand why.

As a Newborn Photographer I was torn between my feelings of jealousy, and the absolute luck that even as I was miscarrying, so many times, I typically had a newborn I could hold and pose and spend a little time with. It was a bittersweet wonderful thing, that only gave me more motivation that one day I would be photographing my own baby. I never hated my job, or resented the parents, I felt incredibly lucky to have those opportunities to photograph them, and selfishly comfort myself.

In walked Christin…

My twin gladly offered herself up for testing to Doctor Provost for possible Gestational Surrogacy. This seemed like a pipe dream, that I was in some fairytale surreal world that somehow I was now asking my birth identical twin sister to carry for me. All her testing came back perfect, just like mine had, but somehow always slightly better. Christin and her husband had to have a signed agreement with my husband and I, and we all went into it hopeful, but scared.

I was very hesitant and worried about all the negative possibilities this pregnancy would have on her body, possibly her marriage, and even worse our relationship as twins. I went into it with those things in the back of my mind, but with no other choice I proceeded.

The doctor worried that even though my embryos were genetically normal, maybe something wasn’t quite right, so she was ok with transferring two embryos at the same time into Christin. Christin was reminded of all the negative possibilities of multiples pregnancies, and even if an embryo split on its own, and she still was full steam ahead with no worries or scares.

I missed having that strength and resolve. I saw it looking across the room at her, as I had seen it in me just a year prior. Like looking in a mirror, in more ways than one. I was tired, and she was ready to carry the load. I was looking at a super woman, begging her to save me from myself.

I felt so selfish for allowing her to sign up for this, but also felt a new determination.

Do you know what it takes to give up your motherly role of carrying your child? I went through hell inside me, against myself. to give up my selfish desires as a Mother, of carrying and feeling and growing and bonding, so that I could hold a living breathing baby in my arms instead. To finally see my husband happy, with his eyes cleared of sorrow and weight.

I battled with my failures as a woman.

My twin held my hand and reminded me that we came into this life together, and that we were going to get through this together.

Transfer day…

Transfer day came and Christin’s uterine lining was perfect! Of course it was! We thawed one girl embryo and one boy, and they both thawed well, though a little sluggish they said.

The night after the transfer Christin became so sick from some kind of stomach bug that she slept on her bathroom floor after throwing up so much. I stood in her bathroom doorway as she laid on the tile floor using jeans as a pillow. I was immobile from grief and worry that this wasn’t going to work, that she surely had already lost the embryos, and that I was a selfish person for ever letting her put herself through this burden.

To our surprise Christin started having positive pregnancy tests by day 4. Even though we knew the complications of a twin pregnancy we both were giddy at the thought of two. She went in for her HCG blood draws and her numbers were amazing, and kept doubling like they should. Our first sign of hope.

Ultrasound day…

We were all incredibly nervous for ultrasound day, it was a very quiet car ride up to Indiana Fertility Institute. My husband drove us, and you could tell he wasn’t very hopeful. Guarded.

To our absolute astonishment there was 1 heartbeat and 2 sacs. I literally jumped for joy, and possibly genuinely smiled for the first time in 2 years. It felt so foreign to me that I covered my mouth.

We had one. The little embryo that could.

But which one?

At every doctors appointment they did an ultrasound, we got loads of them. At each one the baby was stronger and bigger and perfect. Then came the 9 week blood draw and the results were sent to Christin.

She was going to surprise us with the babies gender.

The party…

At the party no one except a couple of people knew who our surrogate was. We had decided to do it that way, incase it didn’t work, so that no one would burden Christin with any blame.

But it was working!

So, we decided to announce Christin’s surrogacy at the gender reveal party. I wore a shirt that said ” It takes two…” and Christin arrived late with a shirt that said “…to make a thing go right.”

“It takes two to make a thing go right.” It definitely did.

Christin had purchased a chalk gun round for Eric to shoot with his shotgun to announce the babies gender, and at long last we were welcoming our baby BOY.

Rainbow Nursery…

Without any pushback from my husband, I created a rainbow baby nursery. He had a mobile with rainbows and clouds and the sun. Its chime was “You are my sunshine” which I still sing to him every night before he goes to sleep. His quilt was a rainbow colored quilt I made, with rainbow sheets. He had wooden clouds as shelves on his walls. His aunt Missy also made him special curtains that had rainbow colored raindrops dropping out of white clouds.

We had a fantastic baby shower with all our favorite people and were spoiled by all the gifts!

Inducing lactation…

My body had been resting for probably 6 months before I decided in Christin’s second trimester to start inducing lactation. I purchased a book called “breastfeeding without birthing” which chapters of became my bible for a little while. I dog eared and highlighted so much of it.

I was proscribed a nice pump by my doctor, and started taking so much of a medication called Domperidone. This was a medication for stomach ulcers, but had the side effect of lactation. I pumped every 3 hours, even in the night. I started with creating colostrum, and then milk that was blue white.

The most I ever got was 12 ounces a day, but I was building up quite a supply in our freezers.

Inducing lactation felt like the best way for me to feel like his mother, even though I was biologically his mother. I was feeling very much like the man/father must feel during a pregnancy. I felt him kick only from the outside, and didn’t get those bonding moments with him, that Christin did.

Inducing was exhausting, but my break from pregnancy and IVF treatments had given me some energy. The medication also caused me to over eat, and I gained twenty pounds from it. I romanticized holding and feeding him for the first time, and it gave me the courage to keep pumping even at 3am.

After adding myself to a breastmilk group and talking openly on Facebook about my lactation journey, lots of ladies came foreword donating milk to us. Women are so amazing! We had a huge deep freezer full of only breastmilk.

His Birth

At 38 weeks and 3 days gestation, Christin woke us up at 5am with a call with “Well, Eric was right!” In my half awake state I responded with a “Huh?” Proceeding with ” My water just broke!” My husband had been the one to guess previously that he would be born on 12/12/19.

Christin had woke up feeling wet, she thought she had peed herself, and also felt like she needed to go pee. After using the bathroom though, more fluid came out.

We arrived at the hospital an hour before Christin, she had to get her 8 kids off to school, along with our birth Photographer. We sat in the waiting are for what felt like an eternity, full of adrenaline and no outlet to drain it.

When she arrived with our mother they immediately admitted her, while discussing that our boy would have his own room after birth, and she would have her own room. This way we could all stay there together.

One problem though, Christin’s husband was traveling for work and needed to make a 5 hour drive back to Indiana to be able to make it for the birth. Would he make it in time?

I started to feel giddy as all the milestones of a birth started to pass.

3cm

4cm

Epidural

5cm

6cm

My anticipation was astounding! My husband’s mother arrived and sat quietly next to my mother, in hopes they didn’t kick either of them out for the main event.

A miracle happened and just before having to push, Christin’s husband arrived, with absolute cheering coming from our room!

Doctor Triplett was my OBGYN doctor through my first 3 miscarriages and 2 D&Cs and she was going to be the one in the room for the birth, but she was allowing me to scrub in and glove up to catch my son come out of Christin!

Christin only pushed a couple of times, with her husband on one side of her, and mine on the other with the photographer, and Doctor Triplett and I in-between her legs. Both Grandmas were quietly watching from the couch. It happened so fast I actually have a really hard time remembering what happened. I do remember the Doctor taking my hand to place them in the right places to catch, but then after catching she removed him from me to get him closer for my husband to cut the cord. He was placed on the warming table and assessed and then they advised me to remove my shirt and sit in the rocking chair.

I sobbed uncontrollably with him in my arms. My eyes were so overwhelmed with tears that I actually just closed my eyes and concentrated on the feeling of him in my arms.

The weight of him.

At last.

My husband burrowed his head in with us and held us together.

Ryker Clayton Schue was born on December 12th, 2019 weighing 8lbs 1oz and 20.5 inches long.

After my husband had a chance to hold him they had me try breastfeeding him for the first time. He breastfed like a champ, and it made all my hard work so worth it! Then, Christin go to hold him, and she looked so tired, but also so happy. We all fell in love that day. It didn’t feel like My husband and I had a baby, it felt like our family had a baby.

An Indianapolis news station documented our story here is the link to the video – https://fb.watch/u7tN2-cplq/

Heading home…

I felt like a bandit the day he was allowed to go home. We packed him in his car seat, and Christin in a wheel chair, and headed down the elevator. I remember feeling horrible for Christin, but also wanting to run as fast as we could to the car before the hospital changed their mind and made Ryker go home with Christin.

I finally got the chance to photograph my own rainbow baby!