Less than 1%.
That is what we were told were the chances of ever conceiving a child on our own.
In some ways knowing that the odds were never in our favor made those fifty some odd negative pregnancy tests and childless months less shocking. I mean, less than one percent is really low. If I thought we had some shot at it, I might have got my hopes up. Hooray for pessimism at its finest!
But now, knowing that we are somehow, some miraculous way, part of that less than 1 percent, it feels even more unbelievable, if that's possible.
We did IVF and got our Oliver... a miracle we thank God for everyday. We are so grateful that IVF worked and we even made plans to implant our one remaining frozen embryo sometime after Oliver's first birthday, hoping that we would have one more child, but knowing the odds are stacked against us.
In my most reserved, polite voice, I say **** the odds!
Right now we are amazed, perplexed, and so, so grateful that God works miracles because this...
THIS is a miracle!
