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!

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.

Human Pin Cushion

This is the inside of my sewing box... I haven't used it in years, but the pins are still there, waiting.

Luis:

You may want to prepare yourself for this reading with the help of my main men LMFAO and Lil Jon. Right before the first injection, Erika made this Dubsmash to help calm her nerves.

Shots! from Erika Perales on Vimeo.

While I had never really been nervous for this portion of the process, Erika had been more than a little freaked out about it. If you don’t know this by now, we tend to handle our anticipation of things a little differently. I let things come to me, play it as things go, plan and coordinate just enough to get a rough idea. Erika however, especially with this shot thing, turned pale on more than one occasion. The all powerful internet had spoken of women going crazy with pain and mood swings. And the internet is always right, NO?

So, yeah. It looks like someone's trying to start a car. It actually felt like Pop Rocks.

In addition to the shots, Erika wanting to do what she could to help the stimulation and retrieval be successful, she had done a lot of midnight research on acupuncture. After getting some recommendations from friends, she decided to go for it.

Under heat lamps in a dimmed room, it was actually pretty relaxing. First two times I stayed awake, afraid I'd roll off the bed. But on the third and last day, I passed out and took a nice 20 minute nap.

Even though she swore she'd never do acupuncture, it was just one more step she was willing to take.

Erika had mentioned to me a few months before that I would be responsible for  injecting her with a syringe daily.This brought wonderful childhood memories of my Grandma Margarita telling my mom, uncles, and even me, “Dejame ver las nalgas.” Rough translation: "Let me see the butts." As far as I knew it would be as simple as 1. open syringe 2. poke butt with syringe 3. slap the other butt to equalize pain. That's how Grandma did it. Easy. Unfortunately, we wouldn't be doing Mexican style injections for this part of the process.

Upon returning from her appointment, the clinic had gone over all of the protocol to start the the injections. Erika had brought a fairly large box of needles, various multi colored vials of powdered hormones, alcohol wipes, larger "omg do not stab me with that size" needles, and a Red Sharps Container (to toss all hazardous sharp things after each injection), along with a storybook style instruction manual, complete with pictures, on how to prepare and administer the injections. 

One night's worth of meds. Erika had bought those bandaids a few years back... just in case.

The first night of shots was more about the excitement of things than anything else. What would eventually take 5 minutes 9 other nights, was an hour ordeal the first time. I carefully looked over the manual 3 times and watched several YouTube videos to prepare right before. Erika took pictures of all of the goodies she was about to be injected with, probably as a way to distract herself from what was about to happen. I followed the instructions exactly as stated, looking at my hands, then looking back at the instruction manual, back to my hands, back at manual, over and over just to make sure things looked the same. With the syringe ready to go, the shot was placed to the side and slightly lower than her belly button, and the needle we ended up using was fairly small.  I would provide details of focusing in as I pressed down the syringe needle until it punctured Erika’s skin... but it brings back horror style flashbacks to my brain. Rather than writing out the details, take a look at the pictures below.

Last minute research...

This looks like a face you can trust, right?

He eventually became a pro.

Immediately after the first one.

The bandaids served as a good reminder. (taken by Luis)

Right there with us. Poh did a good job providing emotional support. (taken by Luis)

 

Different colors and shapes also served as incentives each day. Attempt at keeping it fun and light-hearted.

This little red box was soon filled to the brim.

I am happy to think back to the strength Erika showed during that week and a half, as she became increasingly sore, tired, and upset. I would tell her “Do it for the Baby!” ...knowing that as in most cases she just needed to laugh a little. On more than one occasion we were out with friends and we had to leave early to make sure we got her shots in by 9 P.M. Leaving something early because of "responsibilities" at home was not something that I was used to. I thought to myself that this is where it starts... and how it would one day be a blessing to have that "responsibility" we are rushing home to, be our children.

Erika did a short video documenting how it went down, just in case something went wrong and somehow she was over drugged and became the HULK. (It's a cute video, one that I will probably watch several times and not tell her.) Note: If you don't like needles, do not push play.

shots-SD (480p) from Erika Perales on Vimeo.

Erika:
I survived. All I really have to add is I think it's safe to say that I have successfully overcome my fear of needles. Luis impersonating my eggs each night also helped... imagine his high pitched voice (or that of the Gingerbread Man from Shrek) shouting, "Yaaay!!! We're going to make a baaaabyyyy!"

"It was a labor of love. We worked, we prayed, we hoped, we dreamed, we believed.... The more we did all of those things, the more we could actually see you and even feel you growing in our hearts." 
---excerpt from a letter to our baby