October 15th is a special day for us.

It is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Remembrance Day - a time to honour all those wee ones who have passed during pregnancy or shortly after birth.

Not only is Claire our rainbow baby - a baby that is born following a miscarriage, stillbirth or infant loss - her official due date was today, October 15th. If that wasn't a sign of a rainbow coming after the storm, I'm not sure what else would have been.

I'm so glad she's here with us safely, after many months of sadness & wondering if we would ever have another person to add to our family. She was worth the wait.

Sending thoughts to my fellow mamas who are missing their small ones, and to my own three lost littlies - without them,we wouldn't be here. I'll be snuggling my two beautiful girls extra tight today.

I hit 8 weeks yesterday and was so excited - even spent the morning wondering if I should start up a weekly rundown for the blog, to try and think positively that this little one could keep going into a real, take home baby.

That afternoon, I had another bleed. A BIG bleed. I rang the local hospital who rang my OB, who suggested if I soaked at least one pad, to go through the emergency and get looked at. I'd gone through two by that point. With the help of my parents & hubby, wrangling miss G and myself respectively, we sat in the ER for hours, waiting for an ultrasound.

Six hours later, we saw baby. Through the tummy and on the world's most disappointing ultrasound machine, but he was still there & there was still a tiny flicker. No measurements, just a baby where it was supposed to be. A cervical check showed it was still closed, but evidence of new and old blood, so because of that, we now have a label:

Threatened miscarriage.

None of this can be easy, can it?

We got home in the wee hours, had a few hours of sleep, and here we are now, wide awake on a Sunday morning and with not a lot to do other than rest and keep my feet up. We need to ring the OB tomorrow morning and see if he can squeeze us in earlier than Wednesday, and just pray that the baby continues holding on and growing. If I fill another pad with bleeding, they asked me to go back in and present back to Emergency.

I'm still crampy and my back is sore, but I'm mostly spotting brown now. All my other miscarriages, my body had no idea & the embryos/babies were the things to go wrong. This time, it seems like the baby is doing everything right, but my body is being an asshole. I have no idea what's going on!

To say I am absolutely petrified about tomorrow's beta blood draw is an understatement.

The pee sticks look okay - but then, they did last time too. It's hard to hope, epecially since they started out so faint this time too. I do have some darkening sticks from the last few days, though. The thing is, my morning sticks are always fainter than the afternoons. It seems to go against every bit of pee stick literature that you can find on the internet... but there it is.

I haven't used any pregnancy tests today. I figure that whatever will be, will be. In 24+ hours, we'll have an answer.

I should know better than to get my hopes up, but I can't help it.. they're up. And I know they could all come crashing down by tomorrow's beta results, but I am just trying so keep the faith.

I want this more than I can put into words. To get a chance at carrying another baby, to hope that this one might turn out different. Fifth time lucky, perhaps? Could this be our rainbow, rainbow, rainbow baby?

So yesterday morning, I deemed this cycle a bust. I ripped apart the pregnancy tests, deleted every image from my phone, threw a huge tantrum and rage-cleaned my bathroom. It was a meltdown, and it wasn't pretty. I ended that fit of destruction by lying on G's bed and sobbing my heart out - thankfully, she was at daycare, so I could safely let it all out.

After picking her up later that afternoon, I decided to do ONE more pregnancy test. I wasn't going to, and I was kicking myself as I was doing it, but I did it. And you know, there was a more visible line this time. It's still fairly light for 6dp5dt - or 11dpo - but it was a TONNE better than the morning's ghost.

Maybe that was a sign that this pregnancy isn't all over?

I promised hubby I wouldn't pee on any FRER sticks today, because he thinks I'll drive myself batty overanalysing a line, or panicking if there isn't enough progression. (Yeah, he's right.)

I didn't promise to not use a digital though. Loopholes, you know.

Well, all my optimism has failed me... and I was doing so well. It looks like this FET is also going to be another early loss.

Yesterday (5dp5dt - or 10dpo) was early to start peeing, but I've had squinters in the past - and surprise! We had a squinter this time too! It's hard to see, but it's there - when hubby can see it, you know you're not imagining things.

This morning's however, is even fainter than yesterday - which doesn't bode well for this one. One squinter on its own? Well, okay.. every pregnancy has to start somewhere. Two squinters, with no progression? Yeah, we know where this is headed.

I've decided I'm done with stick peeing. I can't handle the disappointment of another early miscarriage every single time I use a pregnancy test. All these losses have just sucked the joy straight out of this process, and it leaves me with dread instead.

Beta is next Tuesday, the 9th. My gut is telling me that little Olaf will have either a) fizzled out by then, or b) be barely hanging in there. So long as this loss doesn't drag out like the last one did, I guess that's that.

I'm really frustrated, you guys. This brings us over 2 years of TTC #2, 3 full IVF stim cycles, 8 transfers, months of endless waiting around - and still no closer to a baby. What do we have to do to get pregnant with a sticky baby? Are we doomed to sit and watch everyone else move ahead without us? Why does this keep happening?

I'm angry at my clinic. I want them to try new things, to throw some steroids at me, to do some more testing, to try and figure out what is going wrong - obviously my body is trying its hardest to get pregnant, but something has to give. Are the remaining 6 frosties we have even worth using? I can't do 6 more cycles, 6+ more months of endless miscarriages or negatives. We want to do whatever it takes to have another baby, but I'm just feeling so broken.

Anyway... if I'm quiet for the next week, you'll know why. No false hopes anymore, just resigned to wait for the week and get the official result from the bloodwork when we get there. This just sucks. :(

My levels are FINALLY less than 5.

I'm officially no longer pregnant.

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm so bloody glad to hear those words.

This miscarriage was just a total disappointment. From the late appearing pregnancy test lines, to the positive betas, to the almost-but-not-quite doubling, to the hope... and then to the devastation of another early loss.

Since then, it's been wait after wait; waiting for hcg levels to drop, waiting to see what was going on, waiting for ultrasounds to check for retained products, waiting for a bleed. From the hope that we might be able to squeeze in one last FET cycle for 2015, to the disappointment of simply running out of time.

With all that said, it's done. It's over. We start again in January.

It's like déjà vu all over again. If I think back to this time last year, all we hoped for was a fresh start. We wanted to leave the pain and sadness of the previous year behind us and move on, and hope that the new year would bring us a baby.

In 2014 I was pregnant. Then I wasn't pregnant. Then I was pregnant again. Then I wasn't. In 2015 I watched two due dates come and go, with no pregnancy in sight. There was failure after failure, and our luck stayed the same. Then I was pregnant. And now I'm not.

So now, we're leaving the sadness of TWO years behind us... and maybe, just maybe, 2016 will bring us some good news.

My beta levels were 9 on November 10th.
My beta levels were 22 on November 17th.
My beta levels were 25 on November 24th.
My beta levels are currently 17 on December 1st.

Still here. Still no answers. Still nobody making action plans for a d&c or using drugs, because the levels are too low to warrant them... so I have DEMANDED we start Provera and induce another bleed.

There's no time for a December cycle now. In fact, we'll be lucky to get in for a January cycle, since I'd need a baseline cycle after the clinic opens after the break - so in reality, we won't be looking at a transfer until February.

Waiting... my arch nemesis. 

Dear Member,

 I am writing to you as a concerned resident of xxx., NSW.

The proposed 'Health Insurance Amendment (Safety Net) Bill 2015' has come to my attention as something which is of vast importance to the local and the national community, and I wanted to voice my worries to you, as my local member.

My name is xxx, and I have struggled with infertility for many years now. Despite being 31 years of age - which is still technically "young" in IVF land - my husband and I have been trying to expand our family since 2010. For medical reasons, we require the help of IVF to conceive, and while coming to terms with this was tough in itself, we considered ourselves extremely lucky to live in a country where we were assisted financially with our endeavours.

We are young, well, and healthy. We are well educated, tax-paying individuals who have thankfully never needed to utilise the system in any way, shape or form - until now. How crushing it is to have the ONE initiative that we actually benefit from, taken away - particularly when it comes to matters of family planning.

If you do go on to read the many articles about this proposed amendment, I encourage you to read the comments. They are so, so varied. They range from folks like myself, who are struggling to make sense of this medical journey and so desperate to start a family. Then there are those from others, who shoot us down, tell us that we don't deserve to have a family, or that we should just 'accept that we weren't meant to have children' and move on.

I find this appalling, from a mental health perspective - what a thing to say to someone who is already mid-way through a heart-wrenching journey.

I realise that as a couple, my husband & I are not important in the grand scheme of things. Parliament doesn't care about the needs of one couple, or about the overwhelming emotions that come along with infertility. But I want to be a voice, for a community that is often silent (due to shame, embarrassment, grief, or a multitude of other reasons) because if we don't speak out, we won't be heard.

The children we are trying so desperately to have, are going to be the politicians, the farmers, the tech-gurus, the lawyers of the future. They will be hard-working individuals, with strong family backgrounds pushing them to be whoever they want to be, and to provide for Australia in whatever way they deem fit. And they will be so loved.

We are the lucky ones.

We have a daughter, a fiesty, spirited 2.5 year old, who was born after several rounds of IVF back in 2012. Without the help of the Safety Net system, we could never have afforded to utilise IVF, in even the cheapest of clinics. She is here, alive, throwing a temper tantrum as we speak, because of this great country. She's the reason this scheme needs to carry on - to give every family the gift of a child.

 But we are also the unlucky ones.

The ones who have been trying desperately to add to our family since 2013. The ones who have spent thousands out-of-pocket, above the Safety Net, to continue doing cycle after cycle of IVF. The ones who have suffered multiple crushing miscarriages, and who will go on fighting until they have given it everything they've got, because having a family is so important to us. It would be devastating to have to give up that dream, simply because of finances.

Please consider making this a priority to look into.

This amendment affects real people, with real stories, and real hopes & dreams.

 Thank you so much for your time.

Let me refresh your memory of the miscarriage from hell.

My beta levels were 9 on November 10th.
My beta levels were 22 on November 17th.
My beta levels were 25 on November 24th.

Still. Fucking. Pregnant.

Referral is coming for a scan to see whether/where there is retained products of conception (what a lovely term) and whether or not I'll need to do a D&C again, or if I will just be stuck in this endless monotony of waiting around.

I now officially hate everyone and everything and most especially my body, who is utterly useless.

A shitty end to a shitty year. :(

I've always prided myself in 'being strong' throughout this whole ordeal, even on the days where I felt like I was failing at keeping it all together. For people to tell me that they thought I was strong, that I was brave, that I was getting by; it helped get me through some really, really hard times.

Secondary infertility is tough, in that you just can't fall apart - my whole focus has been trying hard to make sure that my toddler is happy and content, and doesn't know the struggle that we're going through on a daily basis.

I had gotten so used to putting on a brave face and trying to keep it all together, that it became second nature to keep on keeping on... until it got too hard. When the anxiety started echoing into everyday things, spilling out into the 'real world', when things just seemed to be too low, too often. It was time.

Throughout the last few years, I've spoken with psychologists and with therapists/counsellors when the need has arisen - especially during the tough times of infertility. I recognised the signs recently, and decided to take some action.

It's hard admitting that things aren't right with you. It's hard, because I feel like a failure... like this has beaten me, when it's so far from the truth & I am not ready to give up yet. But while I still have the fight in me, I've also got to appreciate that situations have become challenging, and I need some assistance working through it all.

Does it make me less strong? Maybe.

But I'm trying to look at it in a different way... that it makes me STRONGER, because I know myself, I know my limits, I know that this is temporary, and I know it'll help make me a better mum, wife, daughter, and infertility warrior in the long run.

It's one thing to be impatiently waiting for your hcg levels to get back to baseline, so you can keep going. It's another thing to have them go UP again, and freak you right out.

My beta levels were 9 on November 10th.

The bleeding was tailing off at this point, so we decided to wait a full week to let the miscarriage finish, and re-test again.

My beta levels were 22 on November 17th.

WHAT?

I automatically went into panic mode, assuming the worst - this can't be a good thing? The bleeding has been completely gone for almost the full week. I have no cramps, signs, symptoms. Why would it go up?

My first thought is retained products of conception, because the numbers are too low at 22 to be an ectopic. I asked the clinic for their thoughts and they basically said I should wait it out a week and see what happens.

Of course, that doesn't sit well with me... and I will probably spend the next six days with my stomach in knots. I'm scared, you guys. And I'm so, so frustrated. We were supposed to be baseline by now, we were supposed to be moving ahead with one last IVF cycle before the Christmas clinic closures. Instead, we're stuck here, with potentially very bad news, and an extremely slim chance of being able to try again next month.

Why does this keep happening? One thing after the other... it's just ridiculous.

I've been sitting and stewing on an issue for almost a week now. It's a big one, and one that's going to be affecting Australian couples who are infertile and turning towards IVF in the near future.

If you'd like to read about it, please follow this link. In summary: The government is planning to cut funding to fertility treatment, thus increasing the out of pocket costs for IVF treatment, as well as reducing the current public health rebates.

Now, before I begin, let me be the first to say something;

I AM SO GRATEFUL FOR MY DAUGHTER. 

I've said it before, and I'll say it again every day for the rest of my life... but I feel like I need to reiterate this before I begin this tirade, because I'm sure that folks will be quick to remind me of how lucky I am to have her (I KNOW) and that I should consider myself blessed to have one child (I KNOW) or that I'm even able to access IVF at all (I KNOW) ... so there, it is.

So let's get back to the issue at hand. Do I have issues with this policy changing, as of January 1st? Absolutely. This is one which will affect us directly - and as a couple who are already using a more 'budget' clinic, it leaves our options rather limited. We can't move somewhere more affordable, or swap clinics again - there simply isn't anywhere else to go.

As it is, we've spent thousands of dollars on IVF cycles and additional medications that go along with them. The barely covered specialist appointments, the additional bloodwork and genetic testing that isn't covered by any rebates at all, the miscarriage procedures & pathology - add these in to our overall cycle costs for all of our fresh and frozen rounds of IVF, and it adds up. So much so that I don't even want to tally it all, because the figures will be terrifying.. and that's WITH the help of rebates. I have friends using the bigger clinics here, and their out of pocket costs are even more staggering.

People seem to think that with IVF being on the Medicare system, that means that we pay nothing. I don't think they realise that we are out of pocket every single time we attempt a cycle, whether it works or not. For each of my freeze all cycles, cycles we didn't even get to transfer an embryo, we still paid out of pocket... for not even a shot at a pregnancy. Yes, we're lucky enough to get partial subsidies from the public health system, but we are STILL paying... and with no guarantee!

The comments on these articles are heartbreaking.

I'm sure they are spoken flippantly by folks who either haven't dealt with infertilty themselves, or haven't known anyone personally who is going through all of this... but the ignorance astounds me.

Just adopt.
Realise that you weren't meant to have children, accept it and move on.
Stop using tax payers dollars, just pay for it yourself.
You don't deserve special financial help because you're female.
Why should you be entitled to have children that are funded by the rest of us?
Did I mention just adopt?

You can call me oversensitive, and tell me to "just deal" with my issues regarding infertility - and I won't debate you. Just ask the multitude of counsellors we've seen over the years, and are seeing now. Trust me, we're dealing with it. Just getting through each day of feeling the disappointment and overwhelming sadness that is infertility and loss, that's me dealing with it.

Infertility isn't a medical condition, you say? Children are a choice? Go ahead and talk to my very concerned GP and psychologist, who are working with me on strategies to deal with the anxiety and depression that have now taken hold, after spending countless years and dollars trying to conceive. Not having more children is a choice we can't accept just yet - not until we've given it literally everything we've got. Some folks don't even get that chance.

As for people complaining that people take advantage of the system and use IVF too many times - are you serious? Do you think we WANT to be doing this over and over again? Ask any woman, or couple, who are going through this kind of treatment - we all want this part over with. We're talking about invasive medical procedures, coupled with profound emotional disappointment and physical repercussions... we'd LOVE it if it worked the first time. Reality is, it doesn't work that way.

I'd like to invite these folks who show no sympathy for infertile couples to do some research on adoption in Australia.

We have virtually no systems in place for adoption here. Fostering, yes. Short term care, yes. International adoption? Not even a remote possibility, unless you have tens of thousands of dollars and a willingness to wait for years - with no guarantee of a successful adoption. Once again, I put it to you: do you think that the majority of infertile couples wouldn't have considered this, or done the homework? Aside from coming to terms with the emotional loss of a biological child (not something to be taken lightly for a lot of folks), it becomes very quickly obvious that adoption is not an option for most, whether they would be happy going down that path or not. It's just not that simple.

My husband & I have been infertile since our 20's. We have medical conditions that are the cause for our infertility, and we have no genetic reasons so far to explain our miscarriages, despite plenty of testing. We have not "put off" having children because we have other, more important things in life. We have been together since we were 18/19, and are very happily married as we speak - and all we ever wanted was a family to call our own. We are STILL young, fertility wise - 31/33 as of this moment. We work hard, we save hard, we limit our spending and don't do fancy things... because we are sensible, we don't get government hand-outs, and we are putting every cent we have towards expanding our family.

Am I bitter because I can't have children on my own? You're damn right. What I wouldn't give to be able to simply plan for a pregnancy, have a little lovin' and pop out a baby like seemingly everyone else on the planet.

Here's the thing; the public system and safety net funds all sorts of conditions and treatments. Do I complain, because my "tax payer dollars" pay for a lung transplant, or cancer treatment, for someone who CHOSE to smoke and developed a medical condition? Do I complain, because my "tax payer dollars" are helping someone have a knee replacement because they CHOSE to run marathons and have injured themselves? Absolutely not! Because health care is something that should be available for all of us who are living, working & contributing to Australia's future.

And really.. do they think that we're not tax payers ourselves? We have worked and paid our taxes our entire lives, just like everyone else... so when we need to utilise the system for the first time, why should we have that option taken away from us?

This policy change scares me. As if IVF and infertility treatment wasn't hard enough to deal with from an emotional perspective, the thought that we might have to stop because of finances.. well, it's a real kick in the guts. It makes me think of others who aren't so lucky, or who haven't been able to try for their dream of having a family; places where there is no coverage what-so-ever... and it makes me angry. Australia is a place that is special to me, and I've always been grateful for its public system and the way it supports its citizens - but now, it just leaves me filled with dread.

IVF is not a choice we make lightly. It's not a go-to for people who are lazy, or who leave it too late to have children, or for folks who want designer babies. I just wish people would stop being so quick to judge, and to have a little compassion for those of us who are unlucky enough to have this burden on our shoulders.

Without access to IVF, we wouldn't have our daughter. This amazingly stubborn, strong-willed, pocket rocket of a child, who brings us so much joy. I can't fathom life without her, and I can't fathom why folks wouldn't want others to experience the happiness that she has brought us.

And that's all I have to say about that.

My beta levels were down to 53 on November 2nd.
They dropped to 19 on November 6th.
They're still 9 today on November 10th.

More bloods in a week. I am a human pincushion right now, and not even for a fun reason.

Bloody fucking hell, the universe must really hate us. It just needs to get < 5 for me to start a new cycle, but no, apparently I can't even miscarry a pregnancy properly!

So here we are... still stuck in this limbo. Fun times! Somebody pour me a wine.

Levels have started dropping, so it's time to stop all meds & wait for the inevitable.

Just when I was starting to hope. Another one gone, just like that. How did we get here?

I am just so utterly sad.

Today is 17dp4dt - or 21dpo - or 5 weeks pregnant.

Obviously my numbers don't match up to ANY of those figures, but here we are. Limbo!

I've managed to wrangle my blood test forward a day, so it's tomorrow now instead of Tuesday. We'll hopefully know with a little more clarity, and it's no good dragging things out any longer than we need to.

I feel pregnant. Queasy, off foods, hot flashes, headaches, exhausted. I'm still on all the meds - oestrogen & progesterone - so yes, it's very likely that it's more to do with them than it is my super low hcg hormones.

I'm still peeing on sticks, because it feels like the one thing I can control at this point... and they are tearing my heart out, because they're telling a story that is likely going to be shattered by tomorrow's blood test results.

These results were from Friday and Saturday, and they appear to be darkening. What a tease, right?

I just keep thinking that if I was anyone else, if I didn't know anything about IVF or blood tests or progesterone levels or doubling betas, I'd be SO excited to see a line like that.. I wish I was blissfully ignorant and able to just accept that 'today I am pregnant'. I'm trying to - but it's sort of ruined by 'today I am pregnant, but tomorrow's blood results will say that it's ending/ended'. Even my nurse at the fertility clinic called this a 'grey area' -- and it's just the worst.

Ah, well. Not much else I can do but wait and continue praying for a miracle, even if the odds are slim.

It's not looking good.

This morning I had bloods drawn for my 18dpo doubling hcg test. To improve upon my number from Tuesday, we were aiming for an hcg increase up to 100.

I had my 16dpo beta today. Ideally, they'd like the number to be at 100 for this point in time.

The quick version: FET #7 seems to have resulted in a chemical pregnancy.
The long version: FET #7 has been a cruel, cruel experience & has left me feeling defeated.

After the transfer of our little morula/early blastocyst, things got busy. We went to a concert the following night, which was amazing but loud; I jokingly commented that the little embryo had probably already vibrated right on out of there!

The next day, Georgia and I hopped into the car with my folks for an impromptu beach getaway. Hubby couldn't take time off due to a new job role starting, so it was just us. A good five hour drive up the coast later, we settled in to our holiday accommodation and spent the next little while relaxing.

I packed a single pregnancy test into my luggage. I thought that would help me from obsessing during the TWW. While I have it in my head that all frozen transfers are going to fail, I was surprisingly hopeful about this embryo. It's the nicest one we have had in a while, the lab scientists were happy, and I was happy too.

I started having symptoms from around 6dp4dt. Incredibly tired, aching back, sore boobs and a WHOPPER pimple that devoured my chin. The last time I had a breakout like that was last October, when I was pregnant. My skin always goes nuts before anything else!

I caved that night and peed. It was negative. Blindingly negative. I was kicking myself for testing too early, and went to the local grocery store to top up on pee sticks. The next morning was 7dp4dt, so I peed again. Once again, blindingly negative.

I've always had a line, albeit a squinty line, by 11dpo, in all of my previous pregnancies. It's basically my cut off, so I figured that was that. I chucked the pee sticks in the bin in a rage and considered this to be yet another failure.

8dp4dt was not a great day. I was snippy and crotchety and absolutely starving. Oh, and mad at the universe. We took Georgia to the beach and kept ourselves busy the entire day. I didn't pee on any sticks that day.

Since it was 9dp4dt, or 13dpo, I figured I would stop my pessaries and throw in the towel. I'm on a fairly hefty dose of progesterone for transfers now because of my previous losses - so it can take a while for a bleed to occur after stopping the pessaries. If there's one thing I hate doing, it's needlessly waiting around. I'd rather just move on, and get going again.

I peed on the stick, and went to shower. After I was done, I looked back at the stick and prepared to throw out the negative result.

Except it wasn't negative.

It wasn't dark, but it wasn't a squinter. It was a faint but visible second line. I then proceeded to have a panic attack on the bathroom floor, wearing nothing but my towel. It says pregnant. But it's faint. Is it TOO faint for 13dpo? It has to be too late now. It's probably a chemical. What if it's actually worked? What do I do now?

I'm sure most people would get a positive result on a pee stick and take for granted that all is fine, and not spend hours examining the strength of the line. Anyone who has lost a pregnancy will understand my terror, I think. This positive was throwing me for a loop.

My IVF friends have a saying: prepare for the worst but hope for the best. I was doing this, yes, but I'll admit, I was hoping for a miracle. We all hear stories of people who had a really late positive, or a really faint pregnancy test, or a really late implanter. Maybe this time, I could be one of those folks?

Unfortunately, I was not.

This morning's was fainter. This afternoon's was even fainter. Like, really faint, almost squint-worthy. Well, shit.

I've been pregnant 3 times in two years. I've lost all 3 of those pregnancies at various times. 3 from 3. Not great odds.

I have a beta blood draw in two days time. Judging by the pee sticks, there won't be much, if anything, to see by then.

I'm so angry. I'd prefer this to have been a flat out negative - not this chemical pregnancy limbo again. Why does this keep happening? Our testing show we have no genetic issues, my recurrent pregnancy loss blood work all came back normal, but man.... I don't even know anymore. The bad luck run continues.

So I'm apparently pregnant. But I won't be for long.

This sucks.

Today is my due date for our second miscarriage - it highlights the last time I was pregnant, getting a positive test after a FET back in October. That pregnancy didn't last as long as the first miscarriage. It ended the week before we were due to have our viability scan. I've always felt a bit disconnected from this particular loss. Still sad, still disappointing - but we were less attached to this one, knowing that it wasn't progressing as it should have from levels very early on.

Aside from the actual reminders of our losses, the milestones that make us stop & remember, the hardest part about all of this is that we're still not pregnant again. In my heart of hearts, I always thought that after we lost our first pregnancy, that I'd be able to get pregnant again - that my body wanted to be pregnant, but that it simply wasn't the right embryo. After we lost this second one, I began to have doubts; especially since we've had several more transfers since then and all have been negative.

I knew this date was coming up, and lately I've seen reminders everywhere. Two blooms on our memorial rose bush. Two planets in alignment in the sky. I suppose I'd like to hope that if there really is something after all of this, that those two babies are together somewhere. Think what you like, but that notion gives me a bit of comfort.

Do I think we're done yet? No, I don't think we're done yet. I think we have another baby in our future, even if it feels like it's out of our reach right now. But today, I'll shed a few tears for the little ones who weren't ours to keep - and hope that my gut is right, and that we'll have happier endings one day soon.