Last week the dread of our failed IVF cycle hung over our heads like a giant rain cloud. Things were confusing, uncertain, and just plain sad. The weekend offered us a glimmer of hope for reprievement and we decided to go all out. We spoiled ourselves at the book store and bought some new throw pillows for our couch. We got dressed up for a wedding we attended and danced together the whole night. I had a couple Pina Coladas and cut and dyed my hair. We went on a date and slept in. We reconnected and felt refreshed when the week started again. We called our weekend, "consolation weekend". These were the small prizes we won to make up for it all.
On Monday our doctor called me from her personal number to talk about our cycle and our next steps. She started by telling us that 60-70% of the time transfers fail because of the embryo, not the uterus. While the embryo we implanted looked great, it could have been abnormal, we just don't know. We have done all of the standard testing on my uterus and even removed that polyp via hysteroscopy. This cycle my lining looked really great. Even though things seem flawless, my Doctor recommended doing a test for endometritis, just to be sure.
Endometritis is inflammation of the inner lining of the uterus. It requires a biopsy to see if I have it and if I do, some special antibiotics is all it should take. This is found in 5-7% of patients who have failed embryo implantation and the percentage is even higher in patients experiencing recurrent pregnancy loss. The percentage sounds so small, but if we have been this unlucky, it can't hurt to rule out. I've had a few pelvic procedures as well and it's a valid possibility that I'll test positive. The cost of a frozen transfer is so high it feels worth it to do the test and treat the endometritis if necessary. Honestly, I'm willing to do anything to increase the chances of our babies sticking around. The cost or the discomfort don't outweigh the reward of having our family.
Yesterday we got a phone call we've been waiting for since our first transfer. The clinic that genetically screened our embryos finally called us with the results. Of the 4 embryos we had remaining, 3 of them are genetically normal and viable for transfer. THREE! We can't believe it. We didn't have a lot of expectations about our results. We hoped for at least two to be normal and viable but knew it was possible that none of them would be. Some stars aligned for us and now we have three precious, beautiful, normal embabies waiting to be reunited with me. When I heard the news, I couldn't help but cry.
We have no clue when we will be able to transfer our little embryos. If it were up to me, I'd get the biopsy tomorrow and transfer the moment I was cleared, but lots and lots of money stand in the way. I don't know how I feel about waiting but I don't have much of a choice and will utilize the time I've got to get myself ready.
We know the genders of our little embabies. A secret we are keeping between us until it's time to share. I don't know what God I have to pray to or what spell I have to cast, but I'll do anything to will the universe to give me all of these babies. We want them and need them here. All of them. All three. Not at once, but definitely all three.
We are so grateful to know what we know. Transferring healthy, genetically normal embryos will be the game changer for us. We have to stay brave and stay focused and our babies will come... Right?
Wednesday, July 10, 2019
Friday, July 5, 2019
This is Infertility
About 5 days after my transfer I decided to take a pregnancy test. I was so sure it would be positive I woke up every two hours to check the time, hoping that it was morning and I could test. 5 am seemed early enough, so off I went. The First Response Early Detection tests are "the best" tests to use because they are the most accurate detecting early pregnancy. Most IVF moms get a positive five days after their transfer and expected myself to be no different.
I waited for 3 minutes only to find that it was negative. I didn't even have to squint and decide if there was a real line or an evap line. Oh, yeah. For those of you who pee on sticks and move on with your life, you may not know that sometimes after a few extra minutes of sitting, a second line appears only because it's soaked enough, not because you're pregnant. I've gotten lots of those over the months of testing, but not this time. Not even a little.
So I proceeded to cry in Isaac's arms for two hours. There was something in me that knew it was over. It was still early but I just... knew.
6 days, 7 days, 8 days past transfer. Negative, negative, negative.
I stopped testing after that. I didn't want to waste the clear blue digitals I bought to use only when I saw the two pink lines and needed confirmation in the form of 8 visible letters. I could feel the breast tenderness start to go away, indicating that the progesterone I've been making is starting to go down, even with the thrice daily suppositories.
Any woman going through fertility treatments as long as we have, just knows when it hasn't worked.
We have 4 embryos that should be having their genetic tests done as I type this. In about a weeks time we will learn the results and if they are good for transfer, we will skimp and save to have two embryos transferred. No questions asked; a second round of this makes me less scared of the small possibility that we will end up with twins. I'd rather be on bed rest for half my pregnancy than never get my babies here. Besides, if I wasnt apart of the 62% that ended with a successful transfer of a single embryo, why the hell would I bank on getting two damn babies?? Our goal is one and it may take all of these embryos to get it.
The embryo we transferred was strong and healthy from what we could tell. I don't think "it happened for a reason" applies here. That embryo, that little clump of cells, was our baby. It doesn't all the sudden not become our baby because it didn't stick. That was apart of me and apart of my husband and that was our baby. It was meant to be here with us but for a reason we may never know, the little embryo that could, all the sudden could not.
I don't know how we will afford a frozen embryo transfer. It's not cheap and as we all have learned by now, has no promises. While we feel blessed to have 4 souls on ice right now, we are well aware that not everyone will make it to a live birth. This is just the way the cookie crumbles.
Hope is hard to come by when the reality of infertility weighs down like the darkness of a sky without stars. The heartbreak and devastation never leave. Rather, they linger and each day gets a tad bit tougher. At this point giving up doesn't seem like an option. Even logically, I know we've come too far to only get this far.
I'm sad. Isaac is sad. I'm a mother without my baby. Where is my baby?
I'm tired of being told no, try again later. Where is my yes?
I waited for 3 minutes only to find that it was negative. I didn't even have to squint and decide if there was a real line or an evap line. Oh, yeah. For those of you who pee on sticks and move on with your life, you may not know that sometimes after a few extra minutes of sitting, a second line appears only because it's soaked enough, not because you're pregnant. I've gotten lots of those over the months of testing, but not this time. Not even a little.
So I proceeded to cry in Isaac's arms for two hours. There was something in me that knew it was over. It was still early but I just... knew.
6 days, 7 days, 8 days past transfer. Negative, negative, negative.
I stopped testing after that. I didn't want to waste the clear blue digitals I bought to use only when I saw the two pink lines and needed confirmation in the form of 8 visible letters. I could feel the breast tenderness start to go away, indicating that the progesterone I've been making is starting to go down, even with the thrice daily suppositories.
Any woman going through fertility treatments as long as we have, just knows when it hasn't worked.
We have 4 embryos that should be having their genetic tests done as I type this. In about a weeks time we will learn the results and if they are good for transfer, we will skimp and save to have two embryos transferred. No questions asked; a second round of this makes me less scared of the small possibility that we will end up with twins. I'd rather be on bed rest for half my pregnancy than never get my babies here. Besides, if I wasnt apart of the 62% that ended with a successful transfer of a single embryo, why the hell would I bank on getting two damn babies?? Our goal is one and it may take all of these embryos to get it.
The embryo we transferred was strong and healthy from what we could tell. I don't think "it happened for a reason" applies here. That embryo, that little clump of cells, was our baby. It doesn't all the sudden not become our baby because it didn't stick. That was apart of me and apart of my husband and that was our baby. It was meant to be here with us but for a reason we may never know, the little embryo that could, all the sudden could not.
I don't know how we will afford a frozen embryo transfer. It's not cheap and as we all have learned by now, has no promises. While we feel blessed to have 4 souls on ice right now, we are well aware that not everyone will make it to a live birth. This is just the way the cookie crumbles.
Hope is hard to come by when the reality of infertility weighs down like the darkness of a sky without stars. The heartbreak and devastation never leave. Rather, they linger and each day gets a tad bit tougher. At this point giving up doesn't seem like an option. Even logically, I know we've come too far to only get this far.
I'm sad. Isaac is sad. I'm a mother without my baby. Where is my baby?
I'm tired of being told no, try again later. Where is my yes?
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