The coming story is being told by a tarot. After attempting to conceive for almost a year, we decided to seek therapy from a fertility doctor. In 2018, my spouse was diagnosed with a Zoomymia after multiple testing, which implies he’s infertile and will not be able to biologically father children. In our instance, our infertility is due to a male element, which many people are aware of. Most people would put their family planning on hold as a result of this.
This is not the case for us. We began to consider our alternatives after taking some time to grieve the loss of our hopes for a future family. We started by looking into sperm banks and sperm donation. There are a few alternatives for African American donors, and even fewer that allowed any children created to communicate with their parents once they became 18. We eventually chose a donor for insemination.
Something popped up every time we attempted. We were never given the opportunity to disseminate because of shipping difficulties or schedule conflicts. We got the text just as we were deciding whether or not donated sperm was the best option for us. Would you ever foster or adopt a baby if it came down to it? My best friend asked.
Of course, I said perplexed. However, the cost is comparable too, if not greater than IVF. Well, my friend and her partner are thinking about adopting their son. I told them. I felt you’d be a perfect match.
We were taken aback. They asked us to play the role of his parents. We found out that one day that we would never be able to have children. We were told already we had one. A week later, we were greeted by a nurse in the NICU the first time we met our baby.
Please wash your hands, she murmured as we came to a halt. Ezra, our baby was delivered seven weeks early. He needed time to figure out how to eat and grow. We would visit him at the hospital before and after work for three weeks. It was heartbreaking to see him with all the small wires and tubes, but we knew they were necessary.
When I went to see him one day, I noticed a red Mark on his face. Do you see anything different? The nurse inquired pleasantly as she strolled up to me. Yeah, what’s this strange red Mark on his face? In full mom bare mode, I growled.
Then it hit me. His feeding tube is out, I squealed. We brought him home the next day. We received thousands of messages, moments, and reaction after we announced our adoption on social media. The majority of them are positive, but not all of them.
We received a lot of letters saying things like, how can you adopt a white baby when there are so many black kids in the system? Are you the nanny or are you babysitting? People have even gone so far as to inquire, Where is his mommy and Daddy? People still stop and stare or make unpleasant comments over two and a half years afterwards. It’s about black man and woman adopting a child from a different race is so improbable.
We really wanted to keep extending our family. Despite all the messages and insults we received. We decided to start planning for Ezra’s future when he was about three months old. When we were considering our choices for expanding our family, we came across embryo donation. We still wanted to experience pregnancy and the entire delivery experience, despite the fact that our fertility issues were due to a male element.
It’s possible that someone who has had in vitro fertilization to conceive has leftover embryos. For the remaining embryos, they have three alternatives. The first option is to donate them to science in order to enhance reproductive medical research. The second option is to toss them out. Option three is to give them to another person, couple or family who’s trying to start a family.
We realized we only wanted to be parents because we had already adopted our son didn’t matter to us whether that meant physiologically or not. So I went on social media and announced that we were looking for donor embryos.
We desired an open relationship with our embryo donors, which meant that any children born would be able to communicate with their genetic family, grow up with their genetic siblings, and never question where they came from. We signed up for a website called Nrfa.org, which is dedicated to making matching between embryo donors and receivers easier. We found a mate within three weeks.
After creating a profile, the donor family conducted an interview with us in order to learn more about us. Finally, they came to the conclusion that we were a perfect match. They donated their three leftover embryos to us. After they were blessed with twin boys, we received a communication about a nearby couple who also wanted to give embryos to us. As we were going over the embryo donation paperwork with our lawyers.
They had a son who was conceived through IVF, and then they were astonished with a miracle baby boy who was conceived naturally shortly after he was born. They intended to give us five of their remaining ten embryos. In such a short period of time, we went from having no prospect of ever having a child to the possibility of eight. We finally obtained a date to transfer our embryo. After four months of testing with our fertility clinic, we implanted two embryos on August 19, 2020, only a few weeks after our son’s first birthday.
It’s been a week. Seems like such a tiny period of time has passed, but it feels like a lifetime when you’re waiting for some of the most important news of your life. After about a week, I decided to take a home pregnancy test. It was favorable. I was pregnant for the very first time.
We felt it was only appropriate to disclose our pregnancy right away. After making our reproductive struggles so public, everyone was ecstatic for us. Unfortunately, our delight was fleeting. We experienced a miscarriage three days later. We were completely heartbroken.
We had to inform not only our family and friends, but also all of our YouTube subscribers and Instagram followers that we had miscarried. It seemed like I was playing a weird game to be finally rewarded for all of our suffering just to have it taken away. The final game had not altered. Even if we were heartbroken, we still desire to expand our family and provide a sibling for our adorable son. We decided to use embryos from our second donor family because we only had one embryo left from our first batch.
We rushed to complete all of our paperwork with our new donors so that we could transfer right away. On September 25, 2020, we’ll transfer two embryos again. This time I’m cautiously optimistic, but happy for the opportunity to expand our family. You’d think we’d keep everything under wraps this time? We, on the other hand, did not.
From beginning to end, we shared practically everything. I took my first pregnancy test on September 29 with my husband hovering over my shoulder. The line was really faint. It was a shadow rather than a line. We did everything, including holding up to a light.
We decided it was negative since we couldn’t tell if it was a line or not. Jarvis went to work the next day. I had complete freedom to take as many pregnancy tests as I wanted. Because I work from home, I was very nervous to take the pregnancy test alone, so I used FaceTime to contact our embryo donor. Sarah, hello.
Hey, how are you doing? I gave my response. Did you get a chance to take a test yet? She enquired. I thought I noticed a line the other day, but I couldn’t be certain.
I burst out laughing. Are you willing to join me to be sure I’m going to take a digital test? She shouted. Of course I will. I put my phone on the table and took the blue package out of the box.
I pulled it apart with my teeth and removed the test cap. I anxiously dipped the test in the cup of urine that was hidden from view by the camera. Sarah could see the test window since I brought it up to the camera. We conversed and joked while we waited for the findings with bated breath. Pregnant, the test said in great bold letters.
A few minutes later, much to our amazement, we both leapt up and down with the light. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was pregnant for the second month in a row. I noticed two dark bags right away. I smiled as I turned my head to see my hubby.
We’ve got twins, exclaimed the ultrasound technician. It seemed like a weight had been lifted off our shoulders when we reached viability week at 24 weeks. At 31 weeks, and four days pregnant. I was 4 CM dilated and had no idea. Nurses and physicians began to swarm around me.
You’ll be having these babies soon. My primary nurse was the one who asked me. It was as if someone had pressed a fast forward button. My OB GYN came in to see me. Hey, I heard these babies don’t like to wait.
Do you want the birth them here or go downtown where they’re better suited to deal with premature babies? She enquired. I’d like to be moved. I’d like to be there just in case something goes wrong because the infants are being sent there anyway, I said, a little uncomfortably. She dashed out the door to begin the paperwork.
My nurse entered a few minutes later. We’ll have to life let you to the hospital since there are no ambulances available to take you downtown right now, she stated her case. Of course. My babies will be as dramatic as their mother when they arrive in the world, I reasoned. I called my spouse and informed him of the developments.
I instructed him to meet me downtown, and I was in the air before I realized it. The doctors had already devised a strategy. When I got to the hospital, they decided to keep me on medicine for a few more days in order to try to halt my contractions. My contractions were still as intense as ever after two days, so they opted to deliver my twins through Csection as scheduled. Journey and Destiny My twin girls were born on April 17, 2021, weighing £3.
3oz and £3. 8oz, respectively. All of our hard work, all of our tears it all made sense at last. They had me spend some time in the NICU because they were born nine weeks early. I was discharged after a couple of days recovery from my Csection.