Here we go...

Erika:

We woke up early on Friday and got our Transfer Tattoos on.

I found these at a cute little store named Hello Friend. It's an adorable shop
and when I saw these... I knew I had to buy them!

We met Tina at our acupuncturist's office and then were off to the clinic! We were pumped! (Side note... the nurse almost left one of the needles in Tina's ear! Thank goodness she noticed!) When we got to the clinic we gave them some pumpkin bars that were DELICIOUS. The office has been so helpful and patient dealing with us, that we try to bring them goodies when we can. We filled out some paperwork and were sent down the hall to meet with the doctor and check out our baby blast.

OF COURSE we had to stop and take a selfie!

And here is our little baby. A little bitty Baby Blastocyst already loved.

I have to say... our doctor was absolutely HILARIOUS on this particular day. He was in such a great mood, seemed excited, and was even telling jokes about some of the tools... "And this was made by a man...." We were all cracking up in there. He was just being so great the entire time and the mood in the room was great. The doctor was pointing things out on the screen, which he hadn't really done before, and we all felt like we were really understanding the whole process even better. And our nurse described this moment on the screen like a shooting star.... Just watch.

TransferVideowords from Erika Perales on Vimeo.

And this time, by the way, we were back in the room where I'd had my retrieval done. Remember that closet with the window? ...We'd come full circle.

One thing I forgot to mention about the ride to the clinic... right after I had posted a picture of my awesome fake tattoo, a really awesome friend of mine posted this on social media. She sent this prayer out into the world for us and suddenly all the prayers multiplied. When we got home later that day, it was so uplifting to see the words of encouragement her friends had for us, total strangers. But their hearts were genuine and their prayers were definitely felt.
Thank you so, so much.

Instant tears.

Our transfer day ended with this arriving in the mail... a baby catalog from Target with a gift card on the back in case we want to register.... OH! And not ONLY this. The next day a package came in the mail. It was meant for the people who used to live here.... It was baby formula. No joke.

...Did you catch what the doctor said, right after he transferred? I hadn't until just now.

And the very next day I sent Tina a clip from "Friends"... actually, several clips. But the one I had stuck in my head, for about a week, was of Phoebe's transfer day. She's laying upside-down on the couch with her guitar and singing a song (which I told Tina to feel free to sing outloud to her belly). 

"Are you in there Little Fetus

In nine months will you come greet us?

...I will... buy you some Adidas!"

"At some point, fairly early on, someone asked me how we were feeling.... Well, with our emotions and expectations all over the place, I can only describe this time as both scary and exciting... basically, like being on a roller coaster."

---excerpt from a letter to our baby

Happy Birthday Tina! 

Thank you for riding this roller coaster with us!

2nd time around

Luis: 

Life is about second chances right?

It’s not that I expected things to go smoothly, but at some point things that you want take patience, focus, redirection, a whole slew of things. I am thankful for Tina and her family for the commitment that they have given to us. The idea of carrying a child is already huge, but going through the preparation for a transfer is not an easy thing. So up front I can think of nothing else but to be thankful for this moment, with this family.

School of course had kept us busy and preoccupied, but for a very short time, I got a little down about the results of our first attempt. I did spend time thinking about the potential our little embryo had. We never knew if it was a boy or girl embryo. When I think about it now, I am more amazed at our own lives. We get all of our intelligence and insight as we grow older and we think that is what makes humanity special, the ability to increase our knowledge of the world. I now come to think that the obstacles and barriers of conception add to the most miraculous part of our existence. Our doctor (whom we trust very much and who has done this for years) told us with a straight face, “I don't know why it did not work.”

Because conception is not a one hundred percent guarantee, life still holds that sense of miraculousness. So maybe that is why this whole process isn't meant to be easy. If conception through assisted reproduction technology was a one hundred percent guarantee, humans would potentially lose their sense of awe and wonder. But that's makes us human... our feelings of wonder, hope, and the unexplainable.  

This second attempt has a familiarity to it. I am not worried about what is going to happen, but anxious to start the timer for a result. In the bigger picture we know this will be but one of the many more obstacles that we overcome on our way to being a family. We have been fortunate enough to have so much support from friends and family. And it's always nice to hear and feel your encouragement.

Erika: 

August was a tough month and it really forced me to let go… of a lot of things. I spent the last half of that month clearing out an old classroom. I called it “The Purge.” The stuff was just taking up space.… So shelf by shelf, box by box, I threw stuff out (going to donate a lot, too). And though the process of cleaning out the room (and reorganizing another one) was a ton of work, time consuming, and labor intensive, it was also, almost, therapeutic. Letting go really was the theme of my month.

This calendar hangs right next to my desk. The work is by Katie Daisy. Love her work.

At the end of August we celebrated our 8 year anniversary. This year also marks 17 years in our relationship. We’ve experienced so much over this span of time and could not have imagined going through half of what we've gone through without Luis by my side. 

At my first faculty meeting, which just so happened to be on our anniversary, and the day before school started, the principal popped this up on the screen as a reminder for all of us as we move forward in our classrooms.

This slide completely resonated with me, and I could not get over how perfectly it bullet-pointed my own personal life experience in that moment.

But now we are in September. And this is now what my calendar says.

I am choosing to live in Happiness, not Fear and Worry. On Tuesday I overheard a conversation about letting things go and grieving. How Grief and Sadness are healthy and good places for us to visit, they help us heal... but we should never choose to live there. I want to live in Hope and Gratitude, with my eyes facing forward.

And so here we go. We are ready to take our next step. Tomorrow will be our second attempt at a transfer and we are excited! ...Well, excited isn't even really the right word. It's something more than that, and something that might exist in some other language... (if you know of one, let me know).

I dropped off some goodies for Tina yesterday evening.  My favorite thing in the bag… besides some AWESOME temporary tattoos that the three of us will be wearing tomorrow (oh, and Brownie Brittle), is a book that really gets to the heart of our current feelings.

I sat in a bookstore and read this book one day over the summer. It's the best.

Waiting is hard, but along the way I am learning, growing, and finding peace amidst the unknown.

We remain thankful. Thankful for the wiat… for the built up anticipation… for the extra time we’ve been given to get ready… for the lessons in patience and perserverance.

We remain thankful for Tina, her heart, and the growing friendship that we’ve found in each other. Also thankful for her kids who make me laugh every single time I see them.

Bag Boy. A very close relative of Sponge Bob.

We remain thankful for our friends and family who pray, ask, encourage, and share with us their common hope.  And for those of you who silently think of us and read our words… thank you.

Tomorrow we move forward. Tomorrow will be filled with Joy and Excitement! Tomorrow is going to be a good day.

"One day we are going to look back on all of this and realize how small this wait really was, compared to the lifetime we get to spend with you." 
---excerpt from a letter to our baby

Oh, the Possibilities...

Erika: 

Transfer Day-
This one is a tough one to write. I wanted to describe the feelings and all the moments of the day. But when looking back, even now, a week later... I am still overwhelmed with a HUGE sense of gratitude.  As I'm typing this, I'm trying not to cry.

The night before I couldn't even sleep. I stayed up putting Tina's gift basket together. 

In her gift basket I put a ton of things that would help her out during bedrest, like slippers, breakfast in bed tickets to give her hubby, and chocolates. I also gave her some coconut water and pomegranate juice, which we'd read were good for implantation. It was pretty awesome that we were both looking into stuff that week and texting each other with different things we'd found. I also put a grown-up coloring book (that I'm sure the kids have used by now) along with some cool colored pencils to help her pass the time.

Let me also say, I am not superstitious. But I am super-fun. Green is said to be a fertility color and so I found the perfect shade of nail polish that we could both wear called First Timer. Pretty perfect. I gave it to her a couple of days before the transfer at our counseling appointment.

Me, at 6AM that morning,
filled with excitement, gratitude, butterflies and hope.

I woke up the day of Transfer before my alarm went off.  I think we all did. As I got ready for the day, and was feeling all the feelings… I got this text message….

We went to go pick her up and take her to her very first acupuncture appointment. Funny story... I had described mine and how they used like 4 needles and then attached me to a machine, and how it felt like Pop Rocks. Well, for her they didn't use the machine, which I think is a plus. However, it wasn't just 4 needles. She said she had needles from head to toe! That was totally unexpected, but she's a trooper and said she couldn't even really feel them.

From there we went to the clinic. They took us all to the office where I'd had my retrieval done. It was actually just a few doors down. (lol... no elevator needed.) We waited for a while, and during that wait, we took our very first selfie together. The three of us. In this together.

Luis:

I try not to get too excited or anxious about many things as I have gotten older. The butterfly feeling in your stomach and the worries that go through your mind about all the possible things that can happen. Avoiding this has helped me be calm and think things through, be more rational and less reactionary. I suppose it's my own defense mechanism against getting hurt. I went into transfer day thinking I would be able to keep this up. I was wrong.

When we arrived we were placed in the waiting room that I had been in but not Tina and Erika. Two months had passed since the last time I had been in this room. I was there by myself waiting for Erika to wake from her egg retrieval.  True to myself, I tried to keep my mind occupied with positive things while keeping conversations light hearted. The doctor called us into his office after waiting 15 minutes or so and showed us a profile on the blastocyst they were going to transfer. Erika took a few pictures, and he asked if we had any questions or concerns. We all drew blanks on questions. My mind was moving in slow motion and the meeting at the speed of light. I felt like a baby trying to learn how to speak. My mind had failed me. All of this rational thinking and keeping calm went right out the window as soon as I saw this photo. It looked like a catscan of a brain, but inside I knew this was our future. A baby that could change our lives. It was the first visual evidence of Erika and I being one. Something from each of us. A part of us.

We were mesmerized... while also trying to figure out what was what, and really just in awe that this little bundle of cells was something Luis and I made. It was a perfect part of him and a perfect part of me. Luis said it looked like a Dominguez, but I see some Meza in there for sure. 

Not long after this meeting we were placed in a tiny room, smaller than the room I was in for my retrieval. It was lit by just one small lamp on a table and soft classical music playing in the background. We tried to arrange ourselves in the room like Tetris champs so that Erika could take video of the transfer from the screen. I stood against the wall and really tried to think positive. I usually don't like complete silence. When things are silent it usually means you're waiting passively for something to happen instead of trying to tackle it yourself.

My mind was in full action as we were physically limited waiting for the doctor. Here in front of Erika and I was someone who has taken a step of courage and love for us without really knowing us. I suppose in life we have friends who we hang out with, call upon every now and then, get together at social events. We also have close friends, people who we have purposefully placed our time and energy into building life long relationships. These close friends are those who really know you and are there to support you on this journey of life. Then we have family. For me growing up in a large Mexican family I would meet new cousins, aunts, uncles all of the time. I was raised to understand that even though I might have just met a family member, I loved them unconditionally. They were blood. We had a connection that went beyond our lives. We at some point shared a common past. Family gives without asking in return. Family offers without question. I remember feeling this sense of family about Tina as we were crammed in that room. I saw her as a family member I'd never met. Someone who I had not shared stories with or knew every little thing about. But someone who I would love as family. Right here in this little room, this was the beginning of our common past. Perhaps years from now I hope our children will know Tina's children as family too.

My position in that room did not allow me to see much of what was going on from the screen. The doctors spoke very softly and their eyes were glued to the black and white monitor. The silence made me fearful of making any noise or causing any disturbance. I thought about what would happen if my phone went off or if my breathing was too loud. I did not get to see Erika or Tina's reactions through out the process. However the three doctors faces were exactly like a T.V show or movie where humans have just landed on a new planet. Any movement on the radar caused an immediate twitch in their eyes to refocus. It was a bit too much for me. I have not been that serious about anything in a long time. I forgot how intense things can get.

Erika:

Picture this: Luis and I crammed in a corner of a room (not much larger, but definitely nicer than my retrieval room) behind Tina. Me, placing part of my foot to the side of Luis’ leg, balancing on the other foot in order to capture the screen with my camera, while not trying to be in her way either. Luckily, I do yoga, so that helped me hold my balance. Before the doctor arrived, we’d been waiting quite a while. We spent the time talking, laughing and trying to figure out what the best angle would be for me and how many other people might also be in the room for this.

We’d been waiting in the room for a while still and I think the longer they

made us wait, the more antsy we all got. At one point, Luis asked, “…What are some signs that you’re gonna pass out?” Tina and I started giggling and asked if he thought he was going to. He said no, but I made sure to keep an eye on him. 

The craziest part of the day… well, there were two. But the first one was when the lady came back with the baby blast on a straw. I know she’s a trained professional, but she’s carrying literally the most precious thing in our lives in her hands… in a straw. (Notice how shaky and blurry the video is... nervous much?)

The other crazy part of the day you can’t really see. It looks like static on a TV and we honestly had no idea where to look. But watch and listen to the doctor as he let’s go. "One, two, three...." I get chills just thinking about it!

The thing you didn’t get to hear, was the largest exhale I’d ever heard. I think Luis must have been holding his breath the entire time. 

Keepin' the toes nice and warm.

When it was over, they asked Tina to stay laying down for the next 30 minutes. I rolled over the doctor’s stool and Luis now had room to sit. In hindsight, we probably could have given her this half an hour to process it all on her own. It didn’t even occur to us at the time. We just wanted to stay with her as a sense of support. I think Tina said something about not wanting to laugh. So we tried to stay mellow and speak softly. But then Luis said something, out of nowhere, about siamese twins, like from Lady and the Tramp. And that made Tina laugh super hard. And you could tell she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help bouncing from the giggles. It totally lightened the room. You can always count on Luis for comedic relief. The nurse came in a few minutes later, assured us that the baby could not be laughed out and that basically it was nice and safe in there, like a little jelly sandwich. She then went to grab a wheelchair to escort her out and Luis went to get the car.

It was honestly all a bit surreal and I don’t think I really knew how to process it. We laughed and talked a lot that morning. But I didn’t really get super emotional at any point during or right after the transfer, and that’s weird for me. I was just trying to take it all in. But as real as I knew it all was… I still felt a bit removed. I felt like maybe the true possibility of it all hadn’t yet sunk in.

In the elevator on the way out, a mother and her son stood near the buttons. He was about 3, with curly blonde hair, and wearing a bright green t-shirt. We had a few stops on our way down and the little boy kept looking up at the numbers, asking his mom if we were on the right floor yet. 

The mother overheard us all (me, Tina, and our caseworker who arrived later) talking about the transfer on the way down. When we got to the first floor she looked over and said, “If that was a Dr. Lin transfer… he is a Dr. Lin success.”

And just like that, it was real. That little boy represented all the potential that was being held in that beautiful bundle of cells. And suddenly, I felt it all.

From the book I bought her with quotes on gratitude.
This was the back part of the dust jacket.

“Having gone through all of this, we really have developed a huge understanding of how you grew to be. We now know all of the complexities of life and how you were formed. We are also able to see how much love and how many possibilities are held in something so small. A true bundle of joy.”
---expert from a letter to our baby

And afterwards we celebrated with Big Hero 6
and (even though I usually avoid fast-food like the plague...)
we got some traditional transfer Mickey D's fries.