A year ago today, we had our egg retrieval. It was a day that was highly anticipated and then quickly became one of the worst days in our infertility journey. They only got four eggs, and we were heartbroken. The outlook seemed bleak. The odds weren't in our favor. After 11 days of injections, I felt my hopefulness slipping away. The sadness was suffocating. But then, just as it always does, the dark, hard night awoke to the light of a new day that brought incredible news: All four eggs fertilized! Hallelujah! Now, today, looking back at Feb. 24, 2017, I don't just remember a day that threatened to crush my spirit. To steal my strength. I celebrate a day that tested and grew my faith. I celebrate a day that a miracle happened, during (and in spite of) those hours that my belief wavered. Because today isn't the anniversary of "egg retrieval day." It's conception day. Few people know exactly when their babies were conceived but, thanks to IVF, we do. It was a little after noon on Feb. 24, in a high tech embryology lab in San Ramon. And I believe without question that God's hand was in the mix, creating our little miracle, knitting her together from each part of us and preparing her for my womb. The crazy thing is, if our two "snowflakes" — our frozen embryos, our precious embabies — one day also become tiny humans, they will share the same conception date. Isn't science amazing? So yes, Feb. 24 was more than just the day they retrieved my eggs. It was so much more than I even realized at the time. On a most fundamental level, it was the day that Greg and I's family began. Moreover, it was the day that God reminded me that He is bigger than my fears, He is steadfast in the face of my doubts and He is certainly not intimidated by "the odds." With him, anything is possible. Infertility can be overcome, families can be made. With an egg — and faith the size of a mustard seed.
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