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After that first time, we didn’t stop.

We tried again.

And then again.

The second, third, fourth cycle…
they started to blur together after a while.

Each time, I told myself
maybe this round would be different.

But the pattern felt familiar.

We went through retrieval again.
And again.

In total, after all those cycles,
we only had five embryos.

It wasn’t a big number.

But at that point,
it was everything we had.

So we moved forward with transfers.

One by one.

The first one didn’t work.

We adjusted, tried again.

The second… also didn’t work.

By the third,
I think I already knew how it might feel.

Still, we went through it.

And when it didn’t happen again,
there wasn’t much reaction left.

It wasn’t shock anymore.

Just… quiet.

Each cycle, each attempt,
felt like we were putting in everything we had—

and waiting to see
if it would finally be enough.