To good egg days

*Belly picture at the bottom--warning to those of you feeling sensitive--read my words and skip the pic if you can't take seeing it. Love to you anyway*

I feel so lucky this Easter, yes even when I am momentarily gripped with terror---I know how incredibly lucky I am to have ever been able to have my living children, and to be pregnant again now.

I often worry that when I comment on the blogs of women who are still in the struggle that they will take offense at my presence, that they will feel angry that a woman who has what they want should dare to tell them to hope.

I hope and pray that instead they will read my blog and know that when a Doctor tells them that nothing will ever work, that they will never get pregnant with their own eggs, that they will never have a living child---the Doctor might just be wrong. Technology can change, new drugs can be invented, new research can prove that it isn't always their bodies' fault, a diagnosis and a new treatment is possible. Even the best Doctors can be wrong.

There is always hope.

The baby I am carrying is living proof that sometimes a good egg can still be found, and drugs like heparin and progesterone can keep us pregnant, and I pray that my pregnancy inspires the people who read me to find a second opinion, to question the Doctors, to know that they and they alone should be the ones to make choices about their bodies and keep trying if they really want to. No doctor has the right to destroy our hope and take our dreams.

And if, after every attempt, after every option is explored, an individual couple makes the choice that they will never raise living children, then I want them to know that it is possible to go on, to live life with joy and happiness and peace. Loribeth and Pamela Jeanne are living proof of that. Women like them kept me sane during the lowest periods, when I was sure that I was never going to find a good egg.

To those of you who have been told to give up? That what you want is an impossible dream? Witness the proof. Feel free to send this to your gutless soul-crushing REs, the ones who want nothing more than to suck the joy from the very marrow of your bones....add your own subtitles, just for fun.

The 7 1/2 month pregnant belly of a recurrent miscarrier.

The soon to be born genetic child of a woman with premature ovarian failure.

The pregnant belly of woman who sincerely believes that Doctors aren't Gods.

So here I am in all my glory, a far shot, then a close up: