Our Miracle

We're pregnant! NATURALLY! I still can't believe I am typing these words right now. God has blessed us with a miracle and I am rejoicing in it. After years of infertility treatments, I am in awe of what is happening. Every second of waiting was worth this chapter in my life.

So how did this happen?! Back in May (before my third egg retrieval and sixth IVF transfer) I decided I would give acupuncture a shot. Over the course of a few months, I really fell in love with my acupuncturist, Ceci at The Healing Arts & Sciences. She was kind and really listened to me. If anything, it was helping me mentally and emotionally and that was a good enough reason for me to continue. When our transfer failed, Ceci pleaded with me to continue acupuncture with her to see if I could get pregnant on my own. My answer was a big fat NO. At least not with that goal. I was so broken by that point. Brian and I decided to go down the surrogacy route and we had made up our minds. I did choose to continue going to acupuncture to see if she could regulate my cycle. I hadn't had a natural period or ovulated in three years, so I thought it was worth seeing if it would help. It did. I started to get a natural period. Every month. I was so excited that my body was doing the most basic thing. I felt like I was healing. I had an appointment on my birthday and she had two fingers on my wrist as she was taking my pulse. She very excitedly said “y’all are having sex, right??" She could tell just by taking my pulse that I was ovulating. I rushed home afterwards and took an ovulation test. Sure enough I was ovulating. I had never had a positive ovulation test, EVER. And I used to take them 30 days in a row, just in case. I google how long until I can take a pregnancy test…three days before missed period. In my mind, there was no way I would get pregnant. People like me don't just have sex and make a baby…that seemed impossible. So I enjoyed all the holiday parties with as much champagne as possible. I worked out five days a week, including a six mile run that seemed much harder than normal. Two days after that run on December 10th it was time. I only had a digital pregnancy test and I wasn't about to buy anymore because those things are freaking expensive. And well, the odds of it being positive were zero in my mind. I wake up and I pee on a stick and get back in bed with Brian. I think for a split second we both thought WHAT IF…but then quickly pushed it away to protect our hearts. And then we see it…YES+. This can't be real. Am I dreaming? We stare at each other and then back at the positive pregnancy test for at least five minutes with huge smiles. We are speechless. And then I break down and cry. How is this possible? It's a miracle. I immediately call my nurse at my fertility clinic and they get me in for a blood test. Normally blood work results take 4+ hours to come back. I got a call within 45 minutes letting me know I was pregnant. It was unreal. The only words I had ever heard before with this test were "I'm so sorry, but you're not pregnant." I couldn’t believe this was happening. I still can't. I took two more blood tests and my levels were rising perfectly. At our first ultrasound at 5.5 weeks, we saw the gestational sac and the yolk sac. There was a baby in there!

I think it's important to mention that back in November we were fully cleared for a transfer with our surrogate, Brandi. We got a transfer date of 12/2 and we were all so excited to move forward in the process. And then the unexpected happened. Brandi had a bizarre ectopic pregnancy while she was on birth control in preparation for the transfer, which postponed everything for about 6-8 weeks. A week after our original transfer date, we found out we were pregnant naturally.

Once we knew we were pregnant we wanted to tell Brandi right away. Mainly because we have had such a strong sense of trust from day one and I didn't want to break that. So with tears in my eyes and a shaky voice, I made the phone call. I was so nervous to tell her. It was hard to potentially be letting go of a plan that we have both put so much time and emotional energy into. I told her that it was still so early, so anything could happen. That we would love for her to wait with us through the first trimester, but understood if she wanted to move on. Without hesitation she said "of course I'll wait with you." Since that moment she has been my biggest cheerleader. Y’all, I just love this woman so much. She exudes pure joy in everything she says and does and has been such a light to me through everything. And she has already given me the greatest gift. She has given me the time and space to heal my body and mind. When we started our surrogacy journey, I no longer focused on my broken body, but instead on healing my soul. I lived my life more in five months than I had in three years. The stress and pressure I had been under was breaking me. Brandi lifted that. I stopped second guessing everything I was doing. Should I eat this? Should I not eat that? Is this glass of wine going to impact my fertility? Am I working out too much? Am I not working out enough? I asked myself these questions every day for three years. Brandi allowed me to let go of the self-doubt. I was on a first name basis with the staff at our favorite wine bar…maybe not something to brag about - but I fully enjoyed my wine without shame or guilt. I worked out five times a week and trained for a half marathon. I filled up my own cup without the anxiety of what I was doing wrong. I can't adequately describe my gratitude for Brandi. No, she didn't carry my child, but God put her in my life for a reason. I am certain of that.

At the time I told Brandi, we were only four weeks pregnant and I was terrified. But I was also JOYFUL. I decided that no matter what happens, God made me a mama. This is my baby. My miracle that beat all the odds. This little babe is already a warrior. Then at our six week appointment, we heard the faintest little heartbeat. I cried tears of joy. And at our 8 week appointment we heard a strong heartbeat. I bawled. To be honest, I really haven't stopped crying happy tears. Brian and I had fully and wholeheartedly accepted that we would become parents uniquely. That my body might never know what it's like to feel pregnant and carry a child. That Brian would never get to kiss my big pregnant belly at night or show off his pregnant wife. That I would watch someone else go through each phase of pregnancy with our child while I stood on the sidelines. It wasn't always easy to think about, but we accepted it. And now I get to feel all the pregnancy symptoms. I am rejoicing in the pure exhaustion and nausea because it’s a reminder that this baby is growing. I have never been more thankful in my life. I have never appreciated anything this much, ever. I’ve realized that feeling broken has allowed me to fully embrace feeling whole. Each day with this baby is a blessing.

For everyone that has prayed for us, you helped pray this miracle into existence. We will never be able to express how truly grateful we are for all the support and love we have received since I opened up about our fertility struggles. Because of you, I am stronger. You have given me space to be vulnerable and to heal my broken heart. I am so thankful for that. We would love for you to pray for this baby. We are just about 11 weeks, but I am confident in His promise no matter what happens. Anytime I grow weary or anxious, I whisper "I trust you Jesus, you see what I cannot see." A song lyric that resonates deeply with me.

And for the couples that are waiting…I see you. You are not alone. I feel your broken hearts and your weary souls. Know that God is preparing your heart and even when your faith is weak, He is right by your side. Your miracle will come too, no matter how it gets here. I'm praying for it.

The Secret Sorority

But first, an update! In my last post we were unsure what was happening with Brandi's health. She had to be rushed to the ER after feeling unbearable cramping and pain in her low abdomen and the OB ended up removing a mass during an exploratory surgery. After what felt like a million years (even though it was just a few days), my doctor reviewed Brandi's operative and pathology report. It was a clear-cut ectopic pregnancy. An ectopic pregnancy is a tubal pregnancy where a fertilized egg attaches outside of the uterus and is non-viable. Emergency surgery is often performed and the fertilized egg along with the fallopian tube is removed. Y'all, ectopic pregnancies occur in about 1%-2% of all pregnancies. There are fewer than 200,000 cases per year and they can be very dangerous if the tube ruptures. Brandi had been on birth control for three weeks, had a negative pregnancy test just a week before and had a tubal ligation (tubes tied) three years ago. WHAT ARE THE ODDS?!

It has been almost a month since Brandi's surgery. The procedure was laparoscopic, which means it didn't affect her uterus at all - GOOD NEWS! She has healed so well and has been a light in the darkness throughout it all. Let me tell you, this woman is a rock star. The silver lining to all of this is that I feel so much more connected with her now. I loved her before and now I am just amazed with her strength and resilience. It has made Brian and I realize just how invested she is in all of this. Did I mention I freaking LOVE her?!

So what's next? The next steps after an ectopic pregnancy are actually very straightforward. Her HCG (pregnancy hormone) just had to drop to zero for us to continue. Her HCG levels were negative after her first blood draw, which is incredible! For some women the HCG level drops to zero quickly and for others it can take months. Our clinic is closed for a period at the end of this month, so timing-wise we are probably going to have to skip this cycle. We are delayed a bit, but God works in mysterious ways and this is His timing, not mine.

Now onto the actual post…

I always tell people I feel like I'm in a secret sorority. I've been connected with other women who have been down the road of surrogacy, some who are in the process currently and some who have successfully completed their journey. They have given me so much guidance in these beginning months. These women have literally been my shoulder to cry on when I need it most. They are my biggest cheerleaders. They make me laugh until I cry. Oh and we drink all the wine. I couldn't imagine going down this road less traveled without them. Yes, you can google whatever you want and probably find an article of some kind, but getting guidance from people you trust is unmatched and I am so thankful for it. So here I am. Inviting everyone to have a sneak peek into my secret sorority. To get an up close and personal look at what it's like to go through the surrogacy process. Maybe this is an option you have considered yourself. Maybe you are just interested in knowing more about it. No matter what brought you here, I hope you find these posts helpful and enlightening.

Let's start at the beginning. The first step is making the decision. People pursue growing their family via surrogate for many different reasons. For me, my heart and body were broken. Over a two year period, I had six failed IVF transfers with a total of nine healthy embryos and knew we needed to talk about other options so that our hearts and my body could heal. Some women experience so many losses that surrogacy is the best route for them. Some women are born without a uterus. Other women have conditions that could potentially be life threatening to get pregnant and carry a child…cardiovascular conditions, autoimmune diseases, blood clotting disorders…just to name a few. And obviously, if you are in a same sex relationship, surrogacy is a popular option to grow a family. I think there is a common misconception that anyone can just use a surrogate. Based on my understanding and per the guidelines of The American Society for Reproductive Medicine (ASRM), surrogacy should only be used “when a true medical condition precludes the intended parent from carrying a pregnancy or would pose a significant risk of death or harm to the woman or the fetus." So basically, a doctor has to give the green light for a couple to go the surrogacy route based on a medical condition. My belief is that women don't just choose to spend $150,000 so that they can keep their bodies and drink all the wine they want. During my research, however, I did come across articles about "designer surrogacy" and "social surrogacy" where women did somehow manage to use a surrogate because they didn't want to put their life on hold. I would give anything in the world to carry my own child, so I really can't wrap my head around this concept. I didn't find much on it, so hopefully it's not a common thing. My agency required approval from my doctor and I had to list my medical condition in the agency agreement. See below…

Now you need to decide if you are using an agency or going independent. Pros of using an agency: they match you! This is by far the biggest benefit provided by an agency on the intended parents side. They do all the pre-work to determine whether or not someone is qualified to be a surrogate - background checks, interviews, home study, etc. The agency is a middle man that coordinates all the necessary steps leading up to the transfer and during the pregnancy - basically anything that needs to get done (fingerprinting, insurance reviews, escrow account setup, travel coordination for surrogate, etc.) they will refer you to the point of contact and help keep you on task. If a problem arises, a good agency should step in and run interference. Problems can be as simple as communication issues between the intended parents and the surrogate. Problems can also be as heavy as termination choices. The benefit is, you have a third party to play referee. The agency is also your go-to when you have questions and they should help navigate you through the process. The cons of using an agency: they are EXPENSIVE! An average agency fee in Texas is about $20,000. Also, I think it's important to mentally prepare yourself that the relationship the agency has with your surrogate will always come first. I know that sounds strange since the intended parents are paying for a service, but it's the truth. I hear it over and over again from intended parents using different agencies. The agency advocates for the surrogates. It's not rare for the intended parents to feel like they aren't getting the same amount of attention as the surrogate. I hear about little things all the time…the agency sending the surrogate gifts for big milestones and signing the agency's name on it. The intended parent is experiencing that big milestone too, but somehow feels left out. Getting a dinner invitation that says "for our intended mothers and our WONDERFUL surrogates." As the intended mother, I can understand why that stings. I also recognize that the surrogates are doing something amazing and deserve to be acknowledged as much as possible. The thing is, even though intended mothers may have a successful, healthy surrogate pregnancy, we are still experiencing pain and loss from not carrying our own baby. We want to feel important in the process too. So with these scenarios, I feel like there are more thoughtful ways to go about things. Maybe just loop the intended parents in about the gift and let them sign their names on it. Or write the invitation to make it clear the intended mother and surrogate are both wonderful. Okay, now I'm off my soap box. If you go independent, you are just cutting out the agency. You think you would save a bunch of money by not paying agency fees, but you typically end up paying the surrogate more for her base pay instead. If going indy, it is important to have a thorough understanding of the process and what steps need to happen. It is common for couples to go independent on their second journey since they have been through it once before and know the ropes. Communication and trust with your surrogate will be key in a successful, uncomplicated independent journey.

We chose to go the agency route and I am glad we did. If you have a fertility clinic, get some recommendations for agencies that they work with. Join some Facebook groups that revolve around surrogacy…Surrogate & Intended Parents, Texas Surrogacy and Surrogacy Agency Reviews - US Only are all really good resources that discuss agencies and a multitude of other topics. Setup phone consultations with multiple agencies and if you like them, fill out applications. You do not have to and SHOULD NOT pay the agency fee upfront. If the agency wants you to pay something before you get matched, choose a different agency. I got myself on waitlists with three separate recommended agencies. There are a whole lot more intended parents out there than surrogates and it can take an average of four months to be matched.

Also, you're going to need embryos! If you don't have some already, choose a fertility clinic that can help support your surrogacy journey. You can undergo IVF yourself, use an egg donor or even adopt embryos. There are so many beautiful possibilities on this journey to grow your family.

My advice for anyone that finds themselves in a situation where surrogacy may be their best option…connect with other women or couples who are going through it or who have been through it. Maybe it's not surrogacy. Maybe it's other infertility struggles. Maybe it's a different struggle all together. FIND YOUR TRIBE. I have more faith on this journey because of these women. More importantly, I have made life-long friendships that I cherish every day. I am so thankful for this secret sorority.

Up next, I will dive deep into the matching process…

Road Bumps

I know. It's been a while since I've typed out words on a page. The surrogacy process has been a lot. And honestly that's probably a good thing for me. I need something to do. I need something to focus on so that the time will pass quickly and I can feel like I have an ounce of control in the process to parenthood. Since my last post, so much has happened. We signed with our agency, Shared Conception. We matched with and met our wonderful surrogate, Brandi, who I adore. We made it through the psychological and medical evaluations. We started the legal process and have almost completed our gestational agreement. Completing all these steps included a lot of planning and organization, which my type A personality has thrived on. I am learning as I go. This process is not emotionally easy, but I am taking it day by day. My intention over the next few posts is to really dive deep into the process based on my experience. Before I do that, I want to update you on the past few months.

At the end of August, Brian and I go on a dream vacation. We road trip the Pacific Coast Highway for nine days. We drive over 800 miles in a top-down convertible from San Diego all the way to Napa. We sit by the pool drinking rose in LA. We soak up all the beautiful weather in Santa Barbara. We spend two nights glamping in the Big Sur, making smores in our big fire pit. We stroll down Haight Ashbury in San Francisco. The months preceding this trip have been so wrapped up in heartache from our third egg retrieval and sixth failed transfer that we need this escape from our reality more than we even realize. We match with our perfect surrogate just 10 days before we leave, so we are riding the high of a new chapter. It is our opportunity to peel away the layers of loss, failure, disappointment and heartache. We have a fresh start and we are excited for this journey to start on the PCH. We say goodbye to our fertility woes in the rearview mirror.

And then we get a phone call. It is the last day of our trip. We are in Napa enjoying a glass of wine at our second winery. I look down and my sister has called twice and I have a text from my mom that says "call back 911." My heart starts pounding out of my chest. Trying to keep my cool, I call my sister back. Her voice is shaking. She says, "Holly, I just talked to (a family friend) and there is a 16 year old who had a baby girl yesterday. She wants to give her up for adoption and they want to know if you and Brian will adopt the baby." My heart is pounding so hard at this point that I think you can actually hear it standing five feet away. My sister sends me a picture of this beautiful child. I'm looking at Brian basically begging him with tears in my eyes. Please let this be our baby. Brian is very pragmatic, but it didn't take him long to agree. We are now talking to all of our family members. We tell them we could potentially be bringing a baby home tomorrow. They are overjoyed. Without even having to think about it, we know we will still go down the surrogacy road, we will just have this baby too. Adoption has always been part of our plan, the timing just isn't exactly how we pictured it. I envision holding this sweet baby girl in my arms. I envision having two babies close in age. Our lives will be changed forever. I book flights directly from Oakland to the city where the baby is located. My sister starts packing up her car with things we will need, prepared to drive there if necessary. And the whole time I am thinking, this is a total God thing. Brian's aunt Kathy who we were so close with passed away the day before. The same day this baby was born. I am on and off the phone with the family friend who is communicating with the birth family. Or so I thought. I'm not sure how exactly, but at some point I realize our family friend had not been in direct contact with the birth family. So I call the woman who she is in direct communication with (the aunt of the girl who had just had a baby - so convoluted, I know) who very bluntly told me "I'm so sorry, but that's not possible. There is already a family that has been chosen." I just about die. Somewhere there was a big gap in communication. Everyone had the best intentions, it just all feels a little reckless. We all learn from it. It's part of our story now. Even though our hearts feel like they have been ripped out of our chests, we choose each other. And we get drunk.

Fast-forward about a month and a half. We finally get to meet our surrogate, Brandi, in person for the first time. We connect immediately. To know her is to love her. I am thankful. We complete our psych evaluation and pass with flying colors.

 A few weeks after that we are ready for the medical screening. We all get bloodwork done and Brandi does a procedure called a sonohysterogram. This procedure evaluates the uterus by flushing fluid through a catheter to make sure there are no polyps, scar tissue, etc. She went in on a Friday morning and we wait all day for the phone call with the results. It never comes. Ugh. This is the last step outside of the actual legal contract that is holding us back from scheduling a transfer. I am a nervous wreck all weekend. Monday finally arrives. We get the results and we are OFFICIALLY CLEARED! Tuesday comes and my nurse has created a transfer calendar. Brandi is to begin taking her transfer medication the following week. I can't believe this is happening. Everything is falling into place. We will be transferring in less than a month! I get home and Brian has a nice bottle of champagne waiting. We celebrate with happy tears. Our time has finally come.

I get a text from Brandi on Wednesday and she has been feeling some cramping and pain since her procedure on Friday. She has an appointment scheduled a few days later at the clinic to get checked out. I feel such a wave of guilt that she is having to undergo all of this just for us.

Thursday morning I wake up to a text from Brandi that says the pain has become so unbearable that she ended up going to the ER in the middle of the night. As I read her words I feel like the wind is getting knocked out of me. I am so worried and scared for her. The doctor is saying it could be an ectopic pregnancy because her blood draw came back with a quantitative HCG level. How can this be? We are all in shock because the likelihood of this happening is next to none for multiple reasons. She had taken a pregnancy test just six days before for that procedure and that came back negative. She has been on birth control for three weeks in preparation for everything. None of us can wrap our heads around what is happening. The OB schedules an exploratory surgery to determine what's going on. She spends 16 hours in the ER. She has a laparoscopic procedure done and the OB removes a mass that is sent off for biopsy.

My number one priority and concern is Brandi's health. The whole day I feel sick to my stomach with worry. Not just for her but for her family. I worry for her husband. I worry for her kiddos. This whole thing must be so scary for everyone. I can't imagine what they are going through. I keep trying to suppress my own selfish feelings, but the anxiety has a way of creeping in. What if Brandi has been so traumatized during this experience that she no longer wants to be our surrogate? What if she is no longer medically clear to be our surrogate? I start to go down the rabbit hole of despair. Just two days ago we were experiencing the highest of highs and drinking celebratory champagne. Tonight I am drowning myself in that same celebratory champagne trying to numb out the fear and anxiety.  

Friday. I wake up at 3am with a song blaring in my head on repeat. "Yes I Will" by Vertical Worship. I don't feel like I have even heard it that many times, but I was singing every word loud in my head. I hear from Brandi. She is at home resting and recovering well. I can't even begin to explain how uplifting and positive she is. In her own traumatic experience she is comforting ME! This woman is an angel. She reassures me that she is all in with me. I take a huge sigh of relief. I am so thankful to be on this journey with her.

Monday. Brandi has a follow up appointment with the OB. The pathology report is still not back yet, so we really don't have any clarity on what's going on. If you are the praying type - pray for good news! Pray that this pathology report comes back clear. Pray that Brandi heals well. Pray that we can continue on the path to Baby Waters.

All of this is way beyond my understanding. I don't know why this is happening. I may never know. One thing I do know is that our God never fails and our God is never late. And just like that song says that was blaring in my head…Yes I will, sing for joy when my heart is heavy. Because I can still see and feel joy in all of this. Even when it's really hard.

Our Decision to Pursue Surrogacy After Six Failed IVF Transfers

"I'm so sorry, but you're not pregnant." The same words I have heard many times before. The same feeling of the air being sucked out of the room. The same sense of hopelessness. The same despair and devastation sinking into my bones.

Our fertility journey started in late 2016. I got off birth control and remember feelings of giddiness as I threw the empty pill case in the trash. I was so excited to be a mom. Brian and I had been married for two years and we were ready to start our family. I immediately got on Etsy and ordered a matching Baby Mama and Baby Daddy t-shirt set. I couldn't wait to surprise Brian in the most cheesy way possible with the news that we were pregnant. I was already making lists of baby names and visualizing my gender reveal party. I just knew I would be pregnant in no time. Boy was I wrong.

I impatiently waited for aunt flo that first month off of birth control. After 14 years on the pill, my gynecologist recommended having a couple of regular cycles to get my uterus back in top shape for a pregnancy. My period never came. I waited month after month, hoping something would happen. It never did.

After about nine months of waiting and trying multiple times to force periods with medication without success, we decided it was time to see a reproductive endocrinologist. After some blood work and a transvaginal ultrasound, I was diagnosed with lean PCOS due to my non-existent periods, anovulation and polycystic ovaries. This whole world of infertility was so new to us. It was overwhelming. I remember going into the room to be scanned for the first time and thinking I was going to lift up my shirt for a belly scan. Brian and I looked at each other wide-eyed as she told me to undress from the waist down before leaving the room. I had no idea that Wanda (the ultrasound wand) and I would soon be best buds.

We did medicated cycles for over five months to no avail. Then we heard the words that shook our world: IVF was going to be our best option. We were so disappointed. We had no clue that we were about to go down a rabbit hole that would feel almost impossible to get out of.

We spent the next 19 months doing all-consuming, brutal IVF treatments. I quickly realized that this was a marathon, not a sprint, which was a hard pill to swallow due to my impatient nature. I underwent a hysteroscopy under general anesthesia, three egg retrievals, two surgical fluid aspiration procedures for OHSS, an ERA biopsy, more excruciating endometrial scratches than I care to remember, two canceled transfers and six failed embryo transfers.

For this last try, we decided to attempt a fresh transfer. One really frustrating thing about my body is that my uterine lining can't manage to get over 6mm. For an ideal IVF transfer, doctors typically want the lining to be over 8mm. No matter what medication I took, my lining did not want to cooperate. Even though I was at risk for OHSS, we decided to go for the fresh transfer. It was something new. It was something I could feel hopeful about even though my lining was still not at optimal thickness.

I waited the 10 days without testing and felt cautiously optimistic. This could be it for us. We could finally have the one thing our hearts most desired. Then we got the call and I heard the same words that I've heard so many times before. Not pregnant.

I knew in that moment I could not put my body through any more. My broken body has been desperate for a break for a long time. And it's not just my body that needs to heal, but my heart. I have been through trauma, and the trauma has been really heavy. I want so badly to continue to push forward in our desire for a family, but I also need to protect my heart.

Brian and I knew it was time to talk about other options. Even before we knew we were infertile, we both had adoption on our hearts. It is something we have thought long and hard about. The day after we got the bad news about the negative pregnancy test, we were sitting down in the middle of a furniture store (because shopping can cure heartache, even if it's fleeting) and Brian said that he wanted to try using a surrogate.

Surrogacy was obviously something I had thought about, but I honestly hadn’t expected him to say that. I thought since we both wanted to adopt, that would be what he wanted to pursue next. I was immediately overwhelmed with a sense of hope. The heavy trauma that had been weighing us down started to feel lifted. We have two precious embryos left, and this is our opportunity to try something new.

A couple of days later we had our WTF appointment and our doctor confirmed what we had already decided on our own. He said our best option was surrogacy. It was a relief knowing that our doctor agreed with what we had already chosen. Making this choice gave us a sense of renewed hope. It allowed us to breathe again. In the meantime, I will keep praying that I will get pregnant. I will speak it into the Universe. I will never give up on my dream to carry a child.

The grief this time around has been different. I’m a crier, and I really haven’t cried since we initially heard the words not pregnant. I don’t know if I’m in shock. I don’t know if it’s because we are moving in a different direction. I don’t know if it’s a God thing and He has put peace in my heart. I do know that I’m still processing. On multiple occasions I have felt overwhelmed with emotion, and then it’s gone as quickly as it came.

My grief might not look like an uncontrollable sob. Maybe it will trickle out over time. I expect as I reach each milestone of the surrogacy process, it will start to hit me a little harder. And when the pain starts to overcome me, I will remind myself that I have not given up. I am still counting on my miracle that I will one day be pregnant. For now, we are giving my body time to heal.

Infertility is the hardest thing I have ever gone through, but I feel a purpose in it as my story unfolds. It has allowed me to bring education and awareness to infertility. It has allowed me to support and connect with other women on their journey. It has shown me that I am capable of more than I ever thought possible. I have found unimaginable strength in the disappointment. I have found hope in the devastation. I have found resilience in the pain. I have found beauty in the heartache. I have found surrender in the lack of control. I have found wholeness in the brokenness. I have found patience in the waiting. I have found faith in the uncertainty.

Is it still possible to feel abundance in all this? Absolutely. As we pursue parenthood via surrogacy, I am going to pour love into myself and my relationship. I am going to do things every day that fill my cup. I am going to make spiked lemonade out of lemons.

*This post was originally published on The Fertility Tribe’s blog.

Visit https://thefertilitytribe.com/

The Surrogacy Process in a Nutshell

“Try every avenue; try anything you can do. You’ll end up with a family and it’s so worth it. It’s the most ‘worth it’ thing.”

— Jimmy Fallon on pursing surogacy

It's been a hot minute since my last blog post. And honestly it's because Brian and I are still trying to wrap our heads around the whole surrogacy thing. We have accepted it. We are excited about it. And we are overwhelmed by it. Every time I have sat at my computer to write about the process, I go blank. I don't know how to put it all into words. And then the negative self talk starts. Did I fail? Have we given up? No and no. Even though I know the answers to those questions, the thoughts of failure still linger.

After we got our bad news, I spent two weeks unemotional. I couldn't cry and that is not normal. I'm usually a blubbering mess after a failed IVF transfer. I spent those two weeks wondering if I was in shock or if I just felt peace in my heart with the decision to do something different. As the process of finding an agency started to pick up speed and we were beginning to see profiles, I totally lost my shit. And not in a bad way. I just cried. It felt good and I recognize now how important it was to have that release. I think as we hit milestones in the process I will continue to grieve more and more. It's necessary to move forward.

Everything has really started to fall into place. I am thankful for that. It has been a lot, but I'm hoping once we choose an agency and get matched with a surrogate, we will catch our breath a little bit.

I want to share this process with everyone. One of my intentions when I started this blog was to bring awareness to infertility and this is a whole new side of it that I know nothing about. I am a pro with all things IVF, but this is foreign to me. Hopefully as our story unfolds, I will be able to shed light on this journey and help couples who are going through it or considering it as an option.

For this post, I really just want to get down to the nitty gritty of what this process looks like. In a nutshell, gestational surrogacy is when a woman carries another couple’s biological child. So, in our case, my fertility doctor would transfer OUR embryo into our surrogates womb. Technically Brian and I are the "donors" and it's basically our bun in her oven. In traditional surrogacy back in the day, the surrogates eggs were used. That is not the case for us. This is our BIOLOGICAL child.

There are lots of terms in the surrogacy world…

• Brian and I are called the Intended Parents or IPs. Brian is the Intended Father/IF and I am the Intended Mother/IM

• The surrogate has a few names that are used interchangeably - surrogate, gestational carrier/GC, surrogate mom, gestational surrogate

Getting started is overwhelming and slightly scary, so if you are on this journey I hope this helps a bit. Here are the typical steps, with our personal experiences up to this point:

1. First, consult with your reproductive endocrinologist. After three egg retrievals and six failed transfers, we knew my body and our hearts needed to heal. It was time to start considering other options. We are thankful that we came to the decision to use a surrogate before our doctor recommended it. And when he recommended it we felt reassured in our decision. Our doctor gave us a list of recommended agencies and we knew that was the next step. Side note: you will need to have embryos to go through this process. If you don't have any, you will need to go through an IVF cycle.

2. Determine if you want to use an agency or go the independent route. Has a family member or friend offered to be your surrogate? Do you want to use someone you don’t know? All things to think about. We decided that an agency was the best option for us. We also decided that we did not want to put a friend or family member in that situation. While we both think it could be a beautiful experience, we don’t want to put any stress on relationships we love. And if you have offered to carry our child, just know we are forever thankful that you would do something so wonderful for us.

3. If you go the agency route, call multiple agencies. At this point, we have had phone consultations with three Texas agencies and we have loved all of them. Take your time reviewing these agencies. What are their agency fees? What are their surrogate fees? What type of payments do you have to make…one lump sum or deposits over a period of time? When do you have to make your first payment? Do they have any surrogates available or is there a waitlist of IPs? Tip: join some Facebook groups…they have a plethora of information on the process (here are a few: Surrogacy Group for Intended Parents Only, Intended Mothers Through Surrogacy, Texas Surrogacy, Surrogacy Agency Reviews - US Only).

4. You will fill out applications for the agencies you liked, typically before the consultations so they can get to know a bit about you. Once you have your phone consultations and have filled out the necessary paperwork, they will start to send you profiles. This is of course dependent on if they have any surrogates available. From my experience so far, there is typically a wait list of intended parents and not enough surrogates, however, surrogates are applying every day. By this point you will have determined what preferences are important to you. You have to be totally aligned with your partner, which thankfully Brian and I have been. For us, it is important to have an experienced surrogate (someone that has been a surrogate before). It is important to us that she has surrogacy friendly insurance because it can add an additional $15,000+ to the cost if she doesn't. It is important to us that we can get to her easily, whether a two hour drive or two hour flight. It is important to us that she be open to sharing our journey. It is important to us to have a relationship with her and close communication. We want to go to appointments. We want to see bump pics. We want her to Facetime us if the baby starts kicking. We want to be in the delivery room for the birth so she can hand us our baby. We want to experience all of this pregnancy because it may be the only one we ever have. Outside of that, we just want someone that we click with. Someone that feels familiar and comforting.

5. Next is the match! How do you match? Once you get sent a profile you are interested in, you let the agency know ASAP. If the surrogate is interested too, then the agency will set up a call with the IPs, the surrogate and her husband and your contact at the agency. Think Tinder or Bumble, except instead of going on a date to see if you want to pursue a relationship, you are on a blind date phone call to determine if you want that woman to carry your baby. Yep. Another side note: the agency is doing a lot of screening for the potential surrogates that come through…background checks, medical records, home studies, etc. to make sure that by the time a profile gets to the IP, it is someone that has been thoroughly checked out.

6. After that first match call, the IPs and the surrogate let the agency know if they want to move forward in the process. If the answer is yes, you have some short period of time (typically a week) where the surrogate will be put on hold and you continue conversations. Once you officially choose each other (the surrogate has to choose you too!), then you will sign an agreement with an agency and pay your first agency fee installment. Outside of agency fees, the other expenses are funded out of an escrow account. Our first escrow payment will be due at this time too for things like monthly allowance, travel expenses, medications, etc.

7. Once an agreement has been signed and you are matched, the surrogate will go through a psych evaluation. Lots of questions are asked in this evaluation and you just have to trust that if something doesn’t seem right, it will be flagged in this process.

8. If she passes psych then she will start the medical screening process. Depending on what our doctor thinks is necessary, he can request that our surrogate do a number of things…bloodwork, sonohysterogram, hysteroscopy (if something comes back from the sono), an ERA test to determine the best timeframe for transfer, etc. Once she passes the medical screening, the second agency payment is due. Let's just say she doesn't pass her medical evaluation. We would be out for whatever we paid for pysch and medical, but we would be rematched for no additional agency fee.

9. Next up is legal. You both hire lawyers that have to be specialized in reproductive law…i.e., Brian can't just write up our contract. The IPs attorney will draw a contract that includes all of the things that have been agreed upon by the IPs and the surrogate…examples of this are financial terms, parental rights, conduct of surrogate, her responsibilities for communication to you and yours to her, ownership of embryos, timing of cycle, prenatal testing, reduction, termination, and birth. The surrogates attorney reviews the contract and if it's all good then we both sign and we are bound by that contract. At this point in time our second escrow payment is due. This is one of the bigger deposits…typically $30,000+.

10. Transfer time. The contract is signed, the surrogate has passed the psych evaluation and she has been given the thumbs up by our doctor to get started. Once her cycle starts, they will prep her for transfer, which will take place at our IVF clinic in Houston. She will take the progesterone shots just like any normal IVF warrior. She will go through all the hormonal craziness to give us the greatest gift anyone could ever give.

11. We're pregnant! At least that is the hope. Once there is a heartbeat confirmation, our third and final agency fee is due. At this time, our third escrow deposit is also due, which is $20,000+. We will fly/drive to the city our surrogate is in for doctor’s appointments and keep in close communication over the nine month period. The fourth escrow deposit is due anytime the escrow account drops below a certain amount, which typically happens in the third trimester. Note: agencies differ on these deposits (how much they are and when payment is due) so not everyone's experience may be like this.

12. Baby is born! We get to be in the delivery room and watch our baby come into this world. Thinking about it makes me want to cry happy tears. How will we ever repay this woman who has made all of our dreams come true? This is how I'm envisioning it anyways.

Based on the fee breakdown, you could potentially spend anywhere from $70,000 to $180,000 during this process. Seeing this made my jaw drop. Of course, I knew this was going to be outrageously expensive, but seeing it on paper was eye opening. The agency fees are around $20,000. The surrogate is paid between $30,000-$55,000. If they don’t have surrogacy friendly health insurance that could be another $15,000+. And then there are things like travel expenses, maternity clothes, breast milk pumping fees, housekeeping allowance, lost wages if bed rest needs to happen…the list goes on and on. We've already spent $60,000 on our family without success, so the thought of failure always seems to be a dark cloud hovering over us. Someone said to me the other day that there is a fine line in being obsessed with the money and throwing your arms up and saying just give me my freaking baby and you can have my life savings. It could not be more true. We stress and stress about the financial aspect of this and yet I would spend every penny I had and sell all my belongings if it meant I could finally hold our baby in my arms. 

No matter what, we are so thankful for this option. My therapist told me the other day that at some point we just have to take a leap of faith and trust the process. And so that is what we are going to do. God is writing this story for us and we are choosing to see the beauty in it. We can't wait to share it with y'all.

Not Pregnant

I wish I had good news. I’m not pregnant. We are heartbroken. Six failed IVF transfers. It doesn’t even seem real.

I got up feeling hopeful this morning. Excited even. I didn’t take one home pregnancy test the entire time. I was so proud of myself. It was a completely different experience. It was better. I didn’t drive myself crazy for a week. Y’all don’t understand what a big deal this is because a typical transfer looks like me starting to test on day 5. That means I spend five days feeling completely out of control. I take 2-3 home pregnancy tests a day. I don’t drink enough water because I don’t want to dilute my urine for the test. I wake up with the hope of a positive pregnancy test, only to be completely devastated with one line. I squint my eyes multiple times a day looking at the test. I put it in all the best angles of light. I silently beg that I will see something. I don’t, even though my eyes try to trick me. I spend the five days in total gloom and despair. I can’t drink, I can’t exercise, I can’t have sex, I still have to take shots and yet I know I’m not pregnant. This time it was different. I was so calm and cautiously optimistic for the full 10 days of waiting. I was anxious, but I was still hopeful. No matter what, I am still so thankful I didn’t test on my own.

My mom picked me up and took me to my blood test this morning. All the staff were giving me well wishes and good lucks. I even got a “congratulations” from someone because they were speaking it into the universe that I was pregnant. I felt nervous, but I felt good.

We went to breakfast and talked about possibilities. I told my mom that Brian and I had discussed what we were going to do today. Brian said if we were pregnant he would be drinking a whole bottle of champagne and if we weren’t we would be drinking a whole bottle of whisky. Whiskey, no. All the wine, yes. She took me to get a pedicure after breakfast to pass the time and keep me relaxed. As I was getting a pedicure, my palms started sweating. I was so nervous in anticipation as the clock ticked. We still hadn’t heard anything, so we decided to go shopping. We walked around and passed the time.

Then my phone rang. I knew it was my clinic calling. We were standing in the middle of a store, our hands full of clothes. As I answered and the nurse spoke, I knew right away. It’s the same tone I’ve heard in each and every call to tell me I’m not pregnant. As soon as the nurse said “Hi Holly” I looked at my mom and shook my head from side to side. She said “I’m so sorry, I wish I had good news. You’re not pregnant.” I go numb. I said “thank you, it’s okay.” I drop the clothes and we leave the store. There is a restaurant next door and with tears in my eyes, I looked at my mom and asked if we could go have a glass of wine. I don’t want to go home. I want to go somewhere, even if it means crying in public.

I text Brian. I can’t call him because I will breakdown. I tell him how sorry I am. I tell him I’m not pregnant. Of course he calls immediately. I breakdown. Glass of wine in hand and tears rolling down my cheeks, the server brings me tissues. It was kind and thoughtful.

Brian picks me up and brings me downtown to drink away our sorrows. It has been a beautiful, sunshiny (albeit hot Houston) day. And through the blue skies and sunshine it has poured down rain. I see the beauty amidst the rain. And I will continue to see it no matter what. Nothing about this chapter of our lives has been easy. Nothing. But I refuse to stop seeing the beauty in it.

Where does this leave us? I don’t know. What I do know is that we will have a family. We might not get there the way that we envisioned it. And that’s okay.

I will keep sharing. The good, the bad, the ugly. I am so thankful for the support we have received through it all. Keep it coming. We need it. We love you. 

Two Week Wait

I've been so good. Until today.

I'm currently in my "two week wait." I had a fresh embryo transfer on June 9th and I go in on Friday for my official blood test to find out whether or not I'm pregnant.

I feel wrapped up in anxiety, so here I am writing. I'm trying to process it, so I can let it go. Before today I actually felt good. I felt strong. I felt like I could conquer anything. It's funny how my emotions can change in an instant with no specific explanation I can point to. I don't even feel tempted to take a pregnancy test, which is shocking. I just feel this burning in my chest. A sensation that is hard to explain, but that I have felt over and over again throughout my infertility journey. Anxiety.

As I drove into work today, I felt on the verge of a panic attack. I parked and turned on a meditation. I silently started to list all the things in my life that I am grateful for. I prayed. I prayed for peace in my heart and calm in my head. It helped a lot, but as I have moved through this day it has been lingering beneath the surface.

Over the course of 18 months, I have experienced five failed frozen embryo transfers. With those experiences come feelings of desperation, heartbreak, devastation, depression and so on. So while I still have feelings of hope that this could be it for us, the logical and realistic part of my brain screams at me that it's not possible. Don't even kid yourself, Holly. Don't set yourself up for that excruciating disappointment. So instead I try and balance these opposing thoughts. I am cautiously optimistic and still guarding my heart. I am trying my best to envision myself pregnant, while still accepting that this might not be my path.

There is a funny article on Babble that describes the 8 stages of the two week wait for a woman (paraphrased a bit):

1. The NBD stage - You're positive and hopeful and keeping your cool. It's out of your hands now and all you have to do is wait. This lasts for about 1-2 days.

2. The OMG I just know I'm pregnant stage - on about your third day you just KNOW that you're pregnant. Your little embryo is warm and cozy in your uterus. Every single thing you feel is a pregnancy symptom. I'm tired - yep, I'm pregnant. I felt a little pinch - oh, definitely pregnant. Light headed - pregnant for sure.

3. The definitely not pregnant stage - after a day or two of thinking you are definitely pregnant, that doubt starts to creep in. After a while, you convince yourself that you're definitely NOT pregnant. Where are all my symptoms? I must not be pregnant. Even though you wouldn't be feeling any real symptoms at this point anyways.

4. The Google is my BFF stage - Around day 5 or 6 you spend all day googling. You start reading fertility board communications from 2009, which aren't even relevant anymore but you don't care. Anything that can tell you that you are pregnant is searched for high and low. You google every possible pregnancy symptom and of course you find someone that had the exact same dream as you that got pregnant. Google is my BFF.

5. The boycott Google stage - You realize that all the googling is starting to drive you crazy and not really helping. So you quit…maybe for an hour or two.

6. Okay, let's take a home pregnancy test stage - it's too early to get an accurate response, but you do it anyways. Other women get positive tests so why wouldn't you. Negative. And yes, later you dig the test out of the trash just to double check.

7. The gloom and self-pity stage - all home tests are negative. You start to wallow in self-pity. Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Why am I putting myself through this?

8. The total insanity stage - you walk into your blood test feeling completely insane. You're annoyed that you even have to go get bloodwork done. You already know you're not pregnant. It seems like a punishment. You wish you never tested in the first place. But then you're glad you did because at least you know. At least you won't be smacked over the head with the bad news.

These stages really rang true to me during my first five transfers and I think a lot of women can relate. It's such an emotional rollercoaster. You grasp for control that you do not have. You go from excited and hopeful to absolutely insane in just 10 days. I haven't felt quite the same this time around. Probably because I'm determined not to take a home pregnancy test. But I do still feel anxious. I feel uneasy and at peace at the same time. I am worried about how I will handle a negative result. I feel so protective of my heart and I hate that I'm putting myself through this again. And I also believe that I will be okay. That no matter how this turns out, Brian and I will figure it out. We will put one foot in front of the other and keep going down this winding path.

Hurry Up & Wait

One of the hardest parts of infertility is all the waiting. If there is one thing that remains constant through treatment, it is waiting and then waiting some more. No matter what phase you're in on your infertility journey, the idea of hurry up and wait is something we can all relate to.

And it's not just waiting on the "big" things. It's waiting to get a doctor's consult and feeling anxious about what he/she is going to say about what type of treatment you need. It's waiting on your treatment schedule and being unable to make any big plans because you don't know if you'll be able to commit. It's waiting for a call back from the nurse with instructions on how to proceed for the day and feeling anxiety if you go to the bathroom without your phone because what if they happen to call in that moment. It's waiting in all the waiting rooms…waiting to get an ultrasound, waiting to get bloodwork, waiting to get prescriptions, waiting to talk to the doctor…and being left with only your thoughts. It's waiting to be able to have that big glass of wine that you so deserve…kind of kidding but not really.

And then there are the big things. It's waiting to hear how many eggs were retrieved during your egg retrieval. It's waiting to hear the next day how many of those eggs were mature and fertilized. It's waiting a week from then to hear how many of your fertilized eggs made it to embryos. It's waiting two more weeks to see how many of your embryos tested normal or abnormal. It's waiting about five weeks for your body to heal so that you can do a frozen embryo transfer. It's waiting 10-12 days after your transfer to see if your pregnant. It's waiting to see if you stay pregnant. It's all the waiting in between each cycle of treatment and feeling tethered down by a life of infertility.

It’s a whirlwind of emotionally charged waiting. It gets to the point where your life feels out of control because of all the waiting. It's organized chaos. It's messy and complicated, but it is all you know in this chapter in your life.

I am on my 14th day of injections for my third egg retrieval. I have been waiting the past couple of days to get the green light from my doctor to do my trigger shot, which will force the ovulation of all my eggs. It also gives me a concrete date for my egg retrieval, which is why I want it so badly…I want to have a plan. Today in particular I waited on the call back from the nurse and I was sure I would be getting the instructions to trigger tonight. I waited and waited. As I waited I felt more anxiety. I usually get the call at 1pm and I didn't get the call until 4pm. We are not triggering tonight. Another night of injections. Another monitoring appointment tomorrow to check bloodwork. Another day waiting in waiting rooms and waiting on a call back with more instructions. My hormones are out of control at the moment (estrogen is currently over 18,000), which really makes this a lot harder.

I keep reminding myself that this is temporary. That there is life beyond infertility treatments and all the waiting that comes along with it. That even if our plan B doesn't go exactly how we thought it would, we will still be okay. That the silver lining in all of this waiting is that I have been given patience, which has never been my virtue. Brian and I are resilient and we will grow our family one way or another. Even if that means we have to hurry up and wait.

One Week at a Time

“Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light” - Brene Brown

Quick update on our cycle: We are officially geared up for our third egg retrieval. I have been on birth control for the past two weeks and had my baseline scan this past Friday. Everything looks great. My ovaries are quiet, which just means I don't have any follicles (eggs) growing and my hormone levels are right where they need to be. I'm now off birth control and will start taking my stimulation injections this week.

This past week I went to therapy. It’s been a long time coming and I honestly don’t know why I waited so long to seek help. It has become clear to me that I’m holding onto a lot of trauma that has built up over the past 23 months. It’s about time I let someone with real, professional experience help me sift through it all.

Over the past six weeks I have felt pretty numb. I have been completely disconnected to what we are about to go through. For the first time in my life I can't visualize myself pregnant and that in itself is overwhelmingly sad for me. I don't want this to affect my cycle. I want to give this process the best of me. I want to make sure that every cell in my body is all in. That I am present for each moment, even the hard ones.

Serendipitously, someone posted on my Houston IVF support group last week asking for a good therapist. I immediately reached out to the person that was recommended and requested an appointment. She happened to have a cancelation the following day and I got in.

We connected immediately. Turns out we were both Zetas at The University of Texas. The conversation flowed naturally, which I wasn’t expecting. I instantly felt comforted and nurtured by her and I knew I was in the right place. Again, why have I waited so long to seek help? She specializes in all things fertility, so I didn't have to explain any of the medical issues I have been through. I felt acknowledged and understood.

After our 5th failed transfer in April, I was experiencing shortness of breath and panic attacks. Historically, I am not an anxious person. Throw in the Hunger Games of fertility and I am now in constant fight or flight mode. What my therapist said really made sense. I have been through trauma. The trauma I have been through is heavy. All the emotional aspects of loss when each of my five transfers failed. All the physical trauma I have put my body through after two egg retrievals. It's A LOT. And the WHY behind me feeling disconnected and numb? It's my mind and body's way of protecting me. I have experienced so much failure and disappointment and there is still quite of bit of uncertainty ahead of me, so I am in self-preservation mode.

She gave me some great tools to use as I go through this next cycle:

• Take it one week at a time. Instead of creating stress and worry about what I am anticipating, I will focus only on the things that I have planned for the week. This is hard. Having been through multiple egg retrievals, I know what I'm getting myself into. It's one of the most physically and mentally challenging parts of the whole process. You're constantly waiting on results and numbers while you are physically in pain. You are pumped full of hormones that make you feel like a crazy person. So my work is to focus on one week at a time. Is that possible? I think so. This will also be a beneficial tool when I get pregnant. Because if I get pregnant it is not all rainbows and butterflies. It is waiting to see if I'm going stay pregnant. So taking that part week by week will be so important.

• Use reframing to retrain my brain. I have so many fears and worries. Sometimes it can get out of control if I allow my thoughts to take over. A fear pops into my head…This transfer will fail. Which leads to…I will never be pregnant. Which leads to…I'll never be a mom. Which leads to…I'll be a miserable person. Which leads to…my husband will leave me. This is an excessive example because I DO think I will be a mom no matter how I get there, but you get the idea of one thought that spirals out of control into a million other worries. It happens. And now it's time to reframe. This is how you do it:

  • When that fear or worry pops into my head, I write it down. My example: This transfer will fail.

  • I ask myself…is this a fact? The answer is no.

  • Okay, let's write down the facts. I have plenty of eggs. My body responds to the medications. I can produce high quality embryos. I trust my doctor. I have a supportive husband.

  • I am now "reframing" my fears and worries as soon as they become a thought and I turn it into thoughts that are facts. The things that I know to be true that are positive. I immediately stop the cycle of going down the rabbit hole of anxiety. This gives me some control in a process where there is not much control.

• Meditate. I have been meditating for the past three weeks every morning right after I wake up. She was really happy to hear that I was already practicing self-care in this way. I’m using an app called Insight Timer, which I really like. I typically do a guided meditation that is under 10 minutes. It helps me feel grounded and calm before I start my day. I have always made excuses as to why meditation is not for me…I don’t have time, I can’t stay focused, etc., etc. Make time. And who cares if you can’t stay focused. It takes practice. Start with 3 minutes and work your way up. She also recommended two other apps: Headspace and FertiCalm. Ferticalm is not a meditation app, but it provides tips for women battling infertility and helps address situations that may cause stress.

• Use mantras & positive affirmations. She said this is something that is great to pair with meditation. My current mantras - I will be a mom. My body is enough. I can do this.

We had a great hour long session. I laughed, I cried but most importantly I feel like I am finally giving myself access to heal. I have not let myself feel connected to what we are about to go through because I am so afraid of going back into the darkness of anxiety. It’s a scary place to be. I am choosing to surrender to these fears and worries. Surrendering does not mean giving up. It simply means letting go of the hold these fears and worries have on my physical body. It means letting go of the stress and the grip it has over me. By letting go I am allowing divine grace to take control and guide me on this journey. I am ready to be all in, even if that means I’m accepting the unknown. In order to experience light, I must be willing to face darkness.

We start our stimulation injections tomorrow. I will continue practicing self-care as I surrender to the unknown of what’s to come. One week at a time. I will be a mom. My body is enough. I can do this.

Advice Part II: How to Support Someone Through Infertility

This is based on my personal experience and preferences over the past two years and there will definitely be couples that don’t share the same experience as me. I have chosen to be open through this process and because of that I open the door for peoples responses and interactions with me as we travel this journey together. Below is the advice I would give to anyone who knows someone struggling with infertility. Infertility not an easy journey, but the love and support we get through it has allowed us to see the beauty and light in our friendships on our darkest days.

Love on the husband. I feel like the husband is often overlooked during this struggle because the woman is the one undergoing all of the physical procedures and hormonal craziness. And although I am the one experiencing the physical scars, we are both left with the emotional scars (side note: this is not always the case with couples who are dealing with male factor infertility…in that situation, the husband sometimes does procedures too). From my perspective, there are days that I feel like Brian is alone in this. Not in the sense that he doesn’t have support, because he has an incredible group of friends, a loving family and great co-workers. But because some days he has to focus all his energy on supporting me. There are days that he carries the emotional stress for us both. So where does that leave him? He is so good at compartmentalizing his stress so that it doesn’t flow into and affect other areas of his life, but eventually that starts to wear on a person. Here are a few ways to love on the husband:

•  Go grab a beer. I'm not saying that the husband even wants to talk about the woes of infertility, but being able to unplug from something that consumes every aspect of your life is a nice way to hit the reset button. And maybe he wants to talk about it. Give him the space to decide.

• If you're a co-worker and know about the IVF situation, help the husband out when he needs it. I can't say enough about the amazing people Brian work with. It would be A LOT more stressful if we didn't have their support. We had a big IVF appointment recently, which coincided with a high-stress filing at Brian's work. One of Brian's co-worker's covered for him, no questions asked. There aren't enough words to express gratitude for actions like that.

• Being around babies affects the husbands too. Give him a pass on birthday parties or events where lots of cute babes will be.

• If you are talking to a couple about their infertility struggles, share your empathy and compassion with the husband too. From our experience, empathy is mainly directed at me when we are both engaged in conversations about our struggle. Even at our appointments, the doctors or nurses are looking at and speaking directly to me for the majority of the conversation while Brian sits next to me. Make eye contact and really put in the effort to make the husband feel supported.

Lead every conversation with empathy. I think an essential part of this is simply listening. I get a lot of different responses from people when I tell my story. Some people go straight to advice for what they think I should do, some people go straight to comparison with personal things they’ve experienced (which isn’t necessarily about IVF), some people build you up with words of affirmation and encouragement and some people don’t know what to say at all. Let me tell you, it is perfectly fine to not know what to say. You don't have to pretend to know what someone is going through for them to feel supported by you. It’s okay to just say “I don’t really know what to say. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. You are so strong. I am here for you.” Asking questions and really listening and responding with empathetic statements is so much better than any advice you can give. This will help us feel supported and acknowledged. Here are a few things that typically trigger women dealing with infertility and our corresponding thoughts:

• When are you going to have a baby? || Every time I get this question, I feel like I've been punched in the stomach. Never make assumptions about someone’s path to parenthood. This question is very painful for someone struggling with infertility.

• You really need to relax  || Yeah, I know. AND this is the most physically, mentally and financially stressful thing I’ve ever done, so relaxing isn't really an option right now

• It will happen as soon as you stop trying || I would LOVE to be able to stop trying and miraculously get pregnant, but given my infertility diagnosis not trying potentially means no baby

• You really need to go on a vacation || Well we just spent over $50,000 on infertility treatments so a vacation isn’t really in the budget

• It will happen when you least expect it || Actually it will happen exactly when I expect it because my embryo transfer and corresponding pregnancy test is scheduled

• This sounds as stressful as the time when we XYZ || This hurts, especially when it's not related to infertility. Comparing your pain to someone else’s pain isn’t necessary

• Have you thought about adoption?|| Well actually, we have! And we probably will. But that has nothing to do with us going through IVF. I want to experience pregnancy and have a biological child. Also, average adoption wait times are 18 months when going through an agency, which may include heartbreaking failed adoptions and typically costs over $40,000

From my experience, feeling acknowledged and loved through this process has come through intentional listening and words of affirmation. No advice giving or comparison needed. Obviously if you have experienced infertility and found something that really helped you, whether it’s a certain doctor, holistic treatments, a certain diet, etc. please share! I think for any of us on this journey we always want to share in experiences of success. Just don’t take it personal if we opt out of trying it. We each have our own complex situation and what may have worked really well for you, might not be a good fit for me. And that’s okay!

Words of affirmation and encouragement are everything. I've mentioned this a few times and it's because I have drawn a lot of strength from the affirmations I get from people as I navigate our infertility journey. When I'm having a bad day and having momentary thoughts of giving up, someone simply saying "you're strong, you've got this" can totally alter my perspective. It helps me remember that my story isn't over. That even though my heart is aching, I am stronger than I ever realized. Just reading a text or a message or hearing someone tell me that I am strong makes me feel stronger. The following has really resonated with me when someone has said them:

• I love you

• You’re so strong

• You’re so brave

• You’re so courageous

• You’re so inspiring

• You’re going to be the best mom

• That child will be so loved

• You’re a badass

• You've got this

• I'm here for you

I could go on and on. Trust me, there are plenty of days that I feel helpless. Days that I feel like giving up and throwing in the towel. And it’s the sweet, consistent support I get through these words of affirmation and encouragement that enables me to pick myself back up.

We still want to hang out! All you Fertile Myrtles out there might not think so, but we still love you AND your cute babies and we want to continue to nurture our relationship through this tough time. Some days might be more difficult than others, so we might take a rain check. For baby showers and baby birthday parties, the most loving thing to do is give us a pass. We still might come, but sending a text or calling to say "I understand that you may not want to come but I want to you know that I'm thinking about you and you're invited" eases the guilt and shame we hold about not being in the right head space for it. Reach out! Let’s catch up. We may or may not talk about all the craziness of infertility and if we do don’t feel like you have to say the right thing to empathize. Just let us know you’re here for support.

You can’t fix it. This is specifically for the families loving their child through infertility. I know this has been the hardest part for my family. Seeing me in so much pain and not being able to give Brian and I the one thing we desire the most has been really heartbreaking for them. No amount of money or time or hugs can guarantee a baby. For me personally, the best way to show up is with unconditional support. Here are a few ways to show it:

• Go to appointments. One amazing thing my mom has done to support me is to come with me to appointments. There are SO many...I’m talking 133 appointments in the last 22 months! And Brian can’t make it to every single one because of work. So when he can’t go, she is there. Even my sister steps in to be there when I need someone to hold my hand.

• Some financial support is huge. I know this is not always possible and I am so thankful for the help we have received up to this point. This is the most financially taxing thing a lot of couples will ever go through. Add in some crazy hormones and it’s no wonder infertility brings so much stress into a marriage. Any small or large gesture is more appreciated than you will ever know. Even if it’s just a free lunch after an appointment.

• Listen without judgement. Let your little girl cry on your shoulder with ugly tears and just be there with open arms and open ears. You can’t fix it, so advice on new doctors or what has worked for someone else just brings more insecurities and stress into the situation. Ultimately, we know it’s out of love, but in the moment it hurts. So listen intentionally and trust your baby because this is something that you can’t fix. Our mama instincts are already kicking in and we will trust our intuition to make the right decisions.

Pray. It is so comforting to me to know that on the days that Brian and I don't have the strength to pray, there are people lifting us up. There are people who are praying for our strength and praying for God to bless us with a child. We are forever grateful for your prayers.

Advice Part I: For my IVF & Infertility Warriors

Since we have some time in between our next egg retrieval, I decided to do a post with advice that has been helpful for me over the past two years. I will be breaking it up into three parts - (1) advice for my IVF & infertility warriors, (2) advice for the wonderful, loving people who support us through it and (3) advice for the husbands (who are sometimes the most overlooked in all of this), which will be written by Brian.

The following are my thoughts on how you can thrive in the midst of IVF and all the adversity that comes along with it.

Recognize that this process is a marathon, not a sprint. You might get pregnant with your first cycle, and I hope you do! I know many women that got pregnant on their first round of IVF and they have beautiful, healthy babies to show for it. Even treatments before IVF have success. My sister got pregnant on her third IUI. Even still, there is a lot of waiting involved in the process. Waiting to get an appointment with a clinic, waiting on results for a diagnosis (and sometimes there is none - they call this unexplained infertility), waiting before you begin IVF so that the timing is just right, waiting on more results, waiting in between cycles…it goes on and on. Waiting can sometimes be the most stressful and frustrating part. I also didn't think about how long this process could potentially take. We are going on 23 months of fertility treatments and I'm about to start over. If you would have told me 23 months ago that we would have gone through two egg retrievals and five failed transfers with no success, I never would have believed you. My infertility diagnosis was really hard for me to accept because most of my life I have experienced instant gratification, which has been a mix of privilege, working really hard and straight up luck. It's a little embarrassing to admit and I have worked on letting go the shame I feel around that. That's not to say my life has always been easy. When I was 25 years old I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. But even then I had a medical team in an instant that had my thyroid surgically removed within 15 days of my diagnosis. When you go through something like infertility and nothing is in control, it's a hard reality check. It was a tough pill to swallow when I realized I couldn't just try really hard and boom I'd get pregnant. Patience has never been my virtue, but I've started to accept that this is not my timing, it's His. I read stories all the time about women who finally have success and say if they would have gotten pregnant with one of the embryos that failed, they would not have the sweet baby in their arms that they couldn't imagine life without. I have surrendered to the idea that my life is nowhere near what I thought it would be. Instead, it's much more beautiful and intricate than I could have ever imagined. Because there will be nothing sweeter once I finish this marathon. I can't wait to get there.

Live outside of fertility. I visited a friend's church recently and the pastor said "A waiting season doesn't have to be a wasted season." It really resonated with me because Brian and I spent a good year letting life take a back seat while we lived by our fertility schedule. We wouldn't RSVP to parties, plan trips or even go out for that matter because we were either (1) right about to start a treatment, (2) right in the middle of treatment or (3) waiting to get our treatment schedule. Let me tell you, you CAN live outside of fertility. It is definitely more challenging, but it is so worth it. Take advantage of this time with your spouse because it is so precious and pretty soon (in the grand scheme of things) it won’t just be the two of you. Once Brian and I decided to live outside of fertility, we felt free. That's not to say we don't sometimes succumb to old habits of feeling stuck, but we try our best to overcome it. We go out to dinners and drink all the wine. We ride our bikes and explore our city from a different perspective, soaking up all the beauty it has to offer and finding hidden nooks and crannies we didn't even know existed. We took a break from fertility and took a dream vacation (I swam with pigs!). After a year of holding myself back, I became a Big Sister to a sweet seven year old girl with Big Brothers Big Sisters of Greater Houston and she brings me more joy than I ever imagined. So plan that trip. Take a break. Schedule a wine night with friends. It will all turn out okay and you can take back some of the control that infertility has stolen from you. Don't let fear dictate how you live. Continue to do the things you love. Look for the beauty around you. Open your eyes and be grateful for all of your blessings even when they are hard to see. You are going through a hard season. A season of uphill battles and struggle. But it doesn't have to be wasted. Allow yourself to dance in the rain. I am living my best life while going through my worst season. I invite you to do the same.

Find your tribe. The struggle of infertility can feel very isolating, especially if you have no one to relate to. One thing I read over and over again while doing research before I started IVF was to surround myself with support. Surround myself with people in my life that I know will lift me up when I'm down even if they don't completely understand my situation. When I found out IVF was the route we were going to take, I immediately told the women in my life that I knew would support me through it. And they have. I am so thankful for the strong women who have given me words of affirmation during the most trying times. When we finally opened up about our infertility struggles publicly, the amount of support we received was overwhelming in the best possible way. As soon as I opened up, I had women continuously reach out to me and vulnerably share their stories. 1 in 8 couples suffer from infertility. 1 in 8. People just don't talk about it and let me tell you that is a very lonely place to be. For me, it was therapeutic to share stories and connect with these women. I have made real friendships with women that I only know because of infertility. Women who have reached out and offered to help me through this journey with open ears and a glass of wine when I really needed to process what I was going through. I am so thankful for the people lifting me up in prayer on the days that I can't pray. I have created these networks of support and without them my hard days would be much harder. Bottom line is, it isn't necessary to suffer in silence. Lean into the people you can count on and if someone is offering you their support, take it.

Make your relationship with your spouse your number one priority. Y'all, going through this struggle is not easy on a marriage. If you're not intentional about keeping your relationship a priority, infertility can really make things messy. I honestly feel like one of the lucky ones because Brian has been my rock throughout this process. I am not saying that it has all been pretty. We have definitely had highs and lows, but we are much stronger for it. I do know that one of the most important things is to be aligned with your spouse as you navigate this journey. Before you begin fertility treatments, really talk about how this process will impact you both. Have the hard conversations. What happens if it doesn't work? I remember breaking down in the car one night with Brian and just sobbing. I asked him if he would still love me if I couldn't give him a child. He said if he knew that I couldn't have a baby when we met, he would marry me all over again. He said as long as we were together, that's all he needed. I cried even harder and suddenly I felt lighter. I knew in that moment that we would be okay no matter what. I still cry and feel relief every time I think about that conversation. I no longer have to carry this burden of feeling like he deserves more than what I am able to give him. Know that the fertility drugs will seriously affect your mood and there is a high likelihood of breakdowns and emotionally charged conversations. Ask for a pass from your husband before these things happen. Ask for unconditional support. Love your spouse hard and make time for each other.

It's okay to say no. You DO NOT have to go to baby showers or any events/parties where you may be triggered. It took me a while to figure this out. Instead of doing what I know would have been better for my mental health, I was putting myself in situations where I knew I would spend a whole day trying to pick myself back up. I would go to the bathroom and cry at a baby shower while the beautiful mama-to-be opened up presents. I looked happy and smiley on the outside, but I was suffering on the inside. Your friends might not understand exactly what you are going through, but they will love you through it. Have a loving conversation with them about why it's something you're not up for.

Find your strength and let it shine. Don't let the fear of failure hold you back from pursuing what you most desire. If I'm being honest, I had no clue how hard IVF would be. I was so caught up in the small stuff…I was worried about the shots, I was sad that I couldn't have this magical, surprise pregnancy announcement for Brian and our families, I was annoyed that I had to pay all this money to get pregnant with doctors intervention when all my friends were getting pregnant so easily. Thinking about the things I worried about before we started IVF makes me roll my eyes. Compared to everything, it is all pretty insignificant. And I don't want to downplay how any other woman has experienced IVF. This is just my experience. Having taken well over 100 shots, they are now a piece of cake. I have gotten to a point where I can give them to myself and feel empowered. As for a cute pregnancy announcement, I would give anything just to see two lines on a stick. I pray every day that I will get pregnant, no matter how I get there. All this to say, I really didn't understand why IVF would be so challenging. It's not just shots and procedures. It's much more emotional than that. It's the waiting and waiting and waiting. It's feeling completely out of control. It's this never ending loop of hope and disappointment. There is so much to it and you will undergo physical and emotional stresses that you aren't necessarily prepared for. And even though you are not prepared, you will grow more on this journey than you ever imagined. Find your strength. I found strength inside myself that I didn't even know existed. It has made me realize I am capable of so much more than I ever thought possible. You will too.

You are allowed to have a bad day. Just pick yourself right back up. I have more of them than I would like to admit. I also have felt shame around the days where I needed to just feel sad. I have learned that giving myself a day to grieve and really feel all the pain is therapeutic. Our lives are so busy. We work, we have to be emotionally available for our spouse, we try to stay connected to other hobbies or interests. I teach yoga once a week and it can be hard some days to lead a group of 20+ people energetically through a class. We suppress all these feelings of anger, sadness, loneliness on a day to day basis so that we can keep going, because life doesn't stop when you're in the midst of struggle. Have a bad day. Or maybe it’s just a bad morning or a bad hour. But as soon as you are ready, pick yourself back up. Do something just for you to get back in the right headspace. Do yoga, go for a walk, get a mani/pedi, go snuggle with your puppies. Do whatever it is that will bring you out of the darkness and into joy. 

Be patient with those who don't understand what you're going through. This can be a hard one. So many friends and family members and STRANGERS feel the need to give advice about what I should be doing during my infertility journey. Things like…just stop thinking about it and it will happen, just relax, have you thought about adoption, have you tried antibiotics, go on vacation, it will happen when you least expect it, this sounds as stressful as that time we remodeled our house, are you sure your doctor knows what he's doing, have sex on the stairs upside down (just kidding, no one actually said that one to me, but you get the point)…the list goes on and on. Infertility is such a complex thing and everyone's situation is different. Because of that it's hard to educate someone on the specifics of my case unless they REALLY want to know. So instead these comments are oftentimes met with a smile and nod, when really I'm doing my best to not explode or cry or roll my eyes depending what is said. Over time I have learned that the advice, comments and suggestions typically come from a place of love. They come from a place of seeing my struggle and wanting to help. With this in mind it is much easier for me to let these things go and give the people who say them a pass. In part II of this blog post I will be sharing advice for people supporting couples through infertility and the most loving way it can be done.

Seeing it Through

“Real courage is when you know you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what.” - Harper Lee

Anxiety. It creeps up on you. And then it’s just there.

I have had bouts of anxiety and feelings of being overwhelmed throughout this process, but recently it has been lingering. It has been just over two weeks since we found out our fifth IVF transfer failed. During this time, I have felt shortness of breath and a tightness in my chest. I’ve gone down a rabbit hole of thinking something is wrong with me…like googling heart failure due to fertility medications. And OF COURSE there is an article that is titled “The hidden risk of IVF: The drugs can give you a heart attack” because Dr. Google will always find exactly what you are searching for. And now I’ve perpetuated higher anxiety. Great. Deep breaths…oh wait, I physically can’t take one.

So I do yoga, I take spin classes, I connect with friends over wine, I pray (and pray and pray) and these things help, but it’s fleeting.

We are starting over, and I am trying to give myself some grace with how I feel. Starting over, no matter what it is in your life, is hard. It’s scary and uncertain and some days pulling the covers over my head and not getting out of bed sounds a lot better than taking the first step. The idea of pouring more money into a black hole of the unknown makes my stomach drop.

But here I am. We have our follow up with our RE to discuss what’s next. We’ve been under this doctor’s care for 22 months. We are invested in him and he is invested in us. I know the staff and the nurses. In all the uncertainty, we have cultivated relationships with our fertility team and it has brought me a sense of control. I know what I’m going to get from them. I also recognize it’s probably time for a second opinion. At least that’s the pressure I feel from myself, my family and my friends.

Brian and I hear out our doctor with an open heart and really listen to what he has to say.

We talk about our next egg retrieval and the idea of a fresh transfer. I have only done frozen embryo transfers (FET), where all the embryos are frozen as soon as they get to the five to six day blastocyst stage. Your body then has time to recover for a bit and you proceed with the transfer about five weeks later. With a fresh transfer, the embryo is implanted about five to six days after your initial egg retrieval. There are pros and cons with a fresh transfer vs a frozen transfer. The biggest pro for me in a fresh transfer scenario is how my uterine lining responds. In my last egg retrieval, my lining got to a 7.6mm, which is the best it’s ever been (ideal lining thickness for a transfer is over 7-8mm). I’m only able to get to a 6.4mm with frozen transfers and it’s really hard for me to get there. There are two big cons with a fresh transfer. First, you cannot perform PGS testing (genetic testing) on the embryo that is implanted, which could potentially result in a miscarriage if it is abnormal. Quite frankly, I am not worried about this. Women in my IVF support group have miscarriages all the time with normal embryos, so I feel like it is a possibility no matter what path you go down. The second downside is the risk of OHSS (ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome). When you develop OHSS and get pregnant, it can be really bad. OHSS is a result of multiple factors, but the HCG hormone (the hormone that continues to produce during early pregnancy) is what prolongs it. That means that the OHSS will continue for a period of 6-12 weeks, which would be torture. If you read my timeline, you know I got OHSS after my first egg retrieval. If we move forward with a fresh transfer, we will just monitor my body closely.

We talk about using a gestational carrier (what other people think of as a surrogate). A gestational carrier is a woman who would go through the transfer process with our embryos and hopefully get pregnant and deliver our baby. Our doctor doesn’t think we are there yet. I tell him I’m not sure how much more I can put myself through physically and mentally. We will put this on the backburner for now, which I’m happy about because I still haven’t accepted the idea of not being able to carry my own child.

We have a hard conversation with him. A conversation that is uncomfortable to have. Brian asks him if he thinks a second opinion would be in our best interest. The way our doctor responds washes away the anxiety. He says that his ultimate goal is to get us pregnant and if it happens with another doctor he will celebrate right along with us. He walks us through the process of transitioning doctors and lets us know that all of my medical records will be seamlessly transferred to another fertility program if that’s what we choose. He speaks in a way that loving and kind.

I honestly don’t want another doctor. Brian and I love our doctor. There is so much that could potentially be lost in translation and that terrifies me. I have some time to figure it out and we decide to schedule interviews with a few doctors just to see what they would do differently.

In the meantime, we continue taking steps towards our next retrieval. Since it has been a year since my last egg retrieval, we redo some tests and procedures. They draw SIX vials of blood. I have another sonohysterogram where they insert fluid into my uterus via my cervix to examine my lining…basically to make sure it’s free and clear of any scar tissue, fibroids/polyps, etc. If I’m being brutally honest, it fucking hurt. A LOT. And I had taken anxiety medication and something for pain. My mom (aka my guardian angel) held my hand through the entire procedure watching tears roll down my cheeks. I am so thankful for the unconditional support I receive daily. I couldn’t do it alone.

As Mother’s Day approaches I feel sad and worn down. And I feel ashamed for feeling this way. Social media is not my friend on this day. From pregnancy announcements to all the new moms posting about their cute little babes, it’s too much for me. I have already sacrificed so much and yet I am not a mom. I have felt all of the crazy pregnancy hormones and symptoms and yet I am not a mom. This day is hard, but I know that my story will unfold in it’s own perfect way.

So as we begin again with our past experiences of failure and disappointment staring us down, I will muster up all my courage and look my fear in the eye. I will not let fear steal my joy. I have survived this far and I’d say surviving is pretty courageous in itself. I will see this through no matter what until our baby is in our arms.

Timeline

My infertility journey starts in 2017 and a lot of the content in my timeline comes from my handwritten journals that I’ve kept throughout the process.

December 2011

I just graduated from college at The University of Texas and I meet the love of my life, Brian. There is something different about this one. I decide to ask him to a family/friend Christmas caroling party after only knowing him for 48 hours. Did I mention he didn’t know it was with my family? Am I crazy? YES. I like to make an impression on a first date.

December 2013

Two years later, at the exact same Christmas caroling party, he proposes! He got down on one knee in front of my closest family and friends. I was wondering why he was trying to get me to slow down on the wine all night…I mean is it even caroling if it’s not boozy, sing from your belly caroling?

January 2015

We get hitched! We have ALL the time in the world for babies, so we decide to enjoy this time together as newlyweds for a couple years. We travel, we adventure, and we drink all the wine. Did I mention we like wine?

November 2016

I get off birth control (BC) and we are ready to make a baby! I can’t wait for this next chapter to start. I immediately get on Etsy and order a Baby Waters Onesie to use when I surprise him with the news that we are pregnant. Because it is going to be that easy. I just know it.

December 2016 – July 2017

I never get a period. Not one. My gyno thinks it is related to my thyroid (I had a total thyroidectomy in 2013 due to a thyroid cancer diagnosis, so my TSH level is on the low side with medication so that a tumor does not grow back). We mess with my thyroid medication – no change. Endocrinologist does not believe it’s my thyroid and refers me to an RE (reproductive endocrinologist).

For anyone that complains about getting a normal period – BE GRATEFUL. Not having a period is a constant reminder that my body feels broken.

August 2017

First meeting with RE and after bloodwork I am diagnosed with PCOS – polycystic ovarian syndrome. PCOS is a hormonal imbalance where everything is out of whack. My main symptom with PCOS is that I don’t have periods and I don’t ovulate. My RE is hopeful…I’m young and healthy and he doesn’t see any issue on me getting pregnant with a little medical nudge.

August 2017 – November 2017

I undergo five medicated cycles (not at IVF yet) to help my body do what it should – no such luck as my body either doesn’t respond to the medication or it over responds. During a medicated cycle, the RE is trying to get your ovaries to produce one or two eggs that they will then force you to ovulate and then timed intercourse or an IUI is performed. I take a drug called letrozole (Femara) to help grow my little eggies, but none get big enough. I then take stimulation shots and I over-respond (common with PCOS) so we cancel the cycle because I had too many eggs growing and they don’t want me to end up like Octomom. In between all these failed cycles we take lots of weekend getaways to ease the pain – LA, Charleston, Kennebunkport, New Orleans. There’s nothing like an adventure to take your mind off of something.

December 2017

I am told that IVF will be our best option – I’m DEVASTATED, but soon accept that this is what we must do to make a baby. Within this same timeframe, I find out my beautiful, big sister is pregnant through her third IUI. How is it possible to be so incredibly happy for someone, yet feel so much pain and heartache at the same time?

Brian and I undergo most of our testing to prepare. Genetic testing, HSG, sperm analysis, etc. Everything is perfect with Brian and most of my bloodwork comes back looking pretty good.

January 2018

I have a sonohysterogram, which is a fun procedure where they insert fluid into the uterus via the cervix to examine the uterine lining.  Turns out I have some sort of blockage (most likely scar tissue) that will require surgery. Plan is to have this surgery post egg-retrieval.

I start to prepare for my egg retrieval! 10 days of Provera, a drug that induces a period…which still never comes. After that, I start taking BC to prepare for my egg retrieval, which makes no sense at all since, HELLO, I’m trying to make a baby! Turns out they want everything in the next few weeks to be very controlled. It’s not an exact science, but they want to control your body the best they can.

Injections start! At this point it feels like Christmas morning after being on prior meds just to subdue my ovaries for over three weeks now. I’m nervous, excited and full of anticipation. We are one step closer to our baby! During the stimulation process, you go in almost every other day once your body starts to respond to the meds to be monitored…that means lots of transvaginal ultrasounds and blood draws.

12 days of injectable stimulant shots and we are ready to trigger (force ovulation of all my eggs)! I have over 37 measurable follicles (follicles are fluid-filled sacks in your ovaries that contain an egg…for someone that gets pregnant naturally, one follicle would start to develop and ovulate a mature egg that’s ready to be fertilized). My ovaries are the size of a grapefruit. I’m sure you can imagine how fun that transvaginal scan was (hint hint – they have to measure every follicle). After I take my trigger shot, I must wait exactly 36 hours until my egg retrieval.

Egg retrieval DONE! My doctor retrieved 16 eggs. I was hoping for more considering I had 37 measurable follicles that were close to maturity. However, not all follicles contain eggs, so that is why there is a big discrepancy.  

Now we get to have fun watching the numbers drop over a period of two freaking long weeks.

The day after the retrieval I find out that of the 16 eggs retrieved, only 14 were mature. That’s not too bad, right? That’s what I keep telling myself anyways.

I also find out that of the 14 mature eggs only 11 fertilized. Ugh. I was hoping for more, but again everything is A-Okay. 11 is good. It could be worse.

Now we wait five to seven days to see how many make it to the blastocyst stage (this is the embryo stage right before they are frozen. Not all fertilized eggs make it to this stage). After the longest week ever, we find out that out of the 11 fertilized embryos only 6 make it to the blastocyst stage. That’s over a 50% drop. Okay, now I’m starting to worry. But 6 is still a lot. I just need one baby!

Next step in the waiting game is PGS testing (pre-implantation genetic screening), which involves a biopsy of the Day 5-7 embryos for genetic analysis. This determines whether your embryos are euploid (normal) or aneuploid (abnormal). After NINE whole days, we find out we have two 2 normal embryos and one 1 low-level mosaic embryo (more on that later).

That’s right folks, we went from 16 eggs retrieved to 3 viable embryos. Talk about a total MIND-FUCK. But that’s okay, because at the end of the day we just need this ONE baby. Maybe two if we are lucky! One step at a time.

Don’t worry, I didn’t have time in that two-week waiting period to stress about the numbers game because of a nasty little thing they call OHSS – yep, I got it. OHSS (Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome) affects only 1% of women undergoing IVF and it is something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Basically, it’s when your body starts to react poorly to the HCG (a hormone that is in the trigger shot) and your ovaries start to fill with fluid. For 10 days I was in excruciating pain. I looked six months pregnant (see pics of normal belly vs OHSS belly below), gained about 10 pounds and couldn’t breathe without pain because the fluid was pressing up against my lungs. Oh and I had many bouts of projectile vomiting – lovely, I know.  I ended up having TWO fluid aspiration procedures, where they put me under anesthesia, punctured my ovaries with a fine needle and drained the fluid…they drained over a half gallon of fluid from my ovaries – YIKES.

Side note for a fun story: One night when I thought I was feeling a little better, Brian decided to get me out of the house and go to dinner down at our neighborhood bar. I couldn’t fit into any regular pants, so Brian wore sweat pants to make me feel better wearing mine. I had been on bedrest for over a week at this point, so I was excited to get out of the house. I didn’t even make it through half of my beer before waddling as fast as I could outside of the restaurant to projectile vomit all over the sidewalk while Brian held my hair back. So humiliating.

February 2018

My body is FINALLY starting to feel healed just so I can jump into my next surgical procedure. Because of the blockage found during my sonohysterogram, I need to have a hysteroscopy procedure done. For this procedure, I am put under general anesthesia and my doctor removes A LOT of scar tissue. I have no idea where this came from, but the good news is he was able to remove it all! This surgery will postpone my transfer for about a month, but I’m honestly relieved to get a little break.

March 2018

Let the preparation for the first transfer begin! Two things in your uterine lining are important for a transfer to be ideal – (1) the thickness (most research and RE’s believe anything over a 7mm, preferably 8mm, is good) and (2) the pattern (you want your uterine lining to have a triple layer pattern and my doctor believes this is the most important thing). I do the normal transfer medication protocol and for some reason my body does not respond well. My lining only gets to a 5.6mm, but I have a perfect triple layer pattern. My doctor decides to go ahead and transfer. He truly believes that the pattern is a much more reliable indicator of a viable lining, so we go for it!

My beautiful, normal frozen embryo is defrosted and implanted into my uterus. This is the best-looking embryo that I have (each embryo is graded after it reaches the blastocyst stage, from highest quality to lowest quality. They say PGS results are more important than the grade, but who doesn’t want a pretty embryo?). I am SO excited for this opportunity for a baby. We made it. We are so close now. I can envision my first positive pregnancy test and I’m starting to think of all the ways I cutely tell Brian that we are going to have a baby. It makes me giddy!

Now I wait. 10 long days of waiting. All the things that I do to relieve stress are no longer available. No working out, no baths, no drinking, no sex.

And then heartache. Our first transfer has failed. I never see two lines on my pregnancy test. My blood test is negative. I’m in disbelief. This was supposed to work. What went wrong?

Come to find out, failure is a lot more common than success. People just don’t talk about it. I wish I could have known, so that I could have prepared my heart. Hopefulness soon turns to hopelessness.

After a few days I refocus. I’m okay, I’m strong. What’s next. Just focus on what’s next and it will distract me from the pain.

April 2018

After a follow up with our RE, we decide to do a procedure called an ERA (Endometrial Receptivity Analysis) test. Five days before you transfer your embryo, you start to take progesterone shots to prepare your body. Progesterone supports pregnancy and you need just the right amount at the right time during the transfer. Well, about 5% of women need an extra 24 hours of progesterone and an ERA test can be performed to determine this. To prepare for this procedure you do what they call a “mock” cycle. You prepare just like you would for a normal embryo transfer by taking all the meds and progesterone shots, but you don’t actually transfer an embryo. Instead, they biopsy your uterine lining to see if it is “receptive” for the transfer.

Biopsy done! And after TWO freaking long weeks of waiting I get my results. You may have guessed it…I fall into the 5% of women that need one more day of progesterone. This is GREAT news! Now I have a reason for why my transfer didn’t work. There isn’t anything seriously wrong with my body – this is an easy fix!

May 2018

We gear up for our second transfer! This time we will be transferring our last two embryos. One normal and one low-level mosaic embryo. I am ecstatic! I can’t wait to be pregnant. I know this is it.

Not interested in the specifics of what a low-level mosaic is? – you can skip this part! A low-level mosaic embryo is newer to the scientific testing world. When PGS testing is done, they biopsy some of the cells of the embryo in a few different places. Think about it like a tennis ball. The fuzzy, outside part of the tennis ball is what gets biopsied. Typically, the cells on the outside match the cells on the inside of the tennis ball, but that’s not a guarantee. For a normal embryo, all the cells from the biopsy come back normal. For an abnormal embryo, all the cells from the biopsy come back abnormal. For a low-level mosaic embryo, about 80% of the cells come back normal BUT about 20% come back abnormal. What I know and what I’ve been told – low-level mosaic embryos are safe to transfer, but have a lower chance of implantation and a higher chance of miscarriage. Oh and they can also result in a totally normal, healthy baby!

I start the same transfer medication protocol. I kind of feel like we should be doing something else to get my lining thicker, but I’m no doctor. Final lining check and I’m only at 5.8mm, but again my pattern is perfect. My RE wants to go for it, so that’s what we do!

Transfer done, now the dreaded wait. I can’t help myself and I take a home pregnancy test 5 days after my transfer. I start to see two lines. OMG. HOLY SHIT! I’M PREGNANT! I am so excited that I can’t help but cry. I quickly go get the “Baby Waters” onesie that I bought back in November 2016, when I thought I would so easily get pregnant. I wake Brian up and give it to him with so much excitement I can barely contain myself.

My parents are leaving for France the next day, so we decide to go to dinner and share the news. I know it’s taboo to share a pregnancy announcement this early in the game, but my parents have been my biggest cheerleaders every step of the way. It only seems right to let them experience the same joy Brian and I feel before they leave for a couple weeks. It is important for me to tell them in person. With tears in my eyes I pull out my positive pregnancy test at the restaurant. We are all crying and hugging. I’m sure people think we are crazy, but I don’t care. All the struggle and pain felt lifted. We celebrate.

After a few days I notice my test lines weren’t getting darker. And after about 9 days the line has faded so much it is almost non-existent. DESPAIR. I am having a chemical pregnancy. How is it possible? No embryos left. All the pain, physical and mental with nothing to show for it. Thinking about all the money spent for NOTHING takes my breath away. DEVASTATION.

Brian and I spend the whole weekend in the dark. Literally. We shut all our blinds and lock ourselves in the house. We cry and grieve. It is Memorial Day weekend and we have been invited to a small get together at a friend’s house. Brian forces us to get up, get dressed and try our best to go enjoy a bright, sunshiny day. We have been there for about 10 minutes when my friend and her husband announce she is pregnant. Thank God for sunglasses. Eyes watery and breath tight, I try my best to get through the day.

I pick myself up . We will try again. And again, if we need to. I will be okay. I just need to refocus. Keep my eyes on what’s important and what’s necessary.

June 2018

It’s about time for a mother-fucking break.

We go to Austin with some dear friends who help pick me back up. No better cure for heartache than hanging with some strong women on the lake with a beer in hand.

One of my best friend’s baby is born. Holding him is a precious reminder of what I am fighting for.

July 2018

Egg retrieval numero DOS! I’ve got this. I am about to produce some amazing eggs. I haven’t had a sip of alcohol in 30 days. This is a BIG deal for me. If I was trapped on a deserted island and could only bring one thing, it would be an endless supply of wine. I’ve also practiced yoga consistently and my diet is on point. I feel healthy and strong, physically and mentally. This is how we get our family.

13 days of stims and I’m waddling at this point. Pants are no longer an option, so thank God it’s summer and flowy dresses are acceptable. Transvaginal ultrasounds and blood draws galore – like every other day. Keep in mind I am still working a full-time job with a CRAZY amount of hormones raging inside of me. Natural Estrogen levels range from 50 pg/ml to 400 pg/ml depending on your age and what day of your cycle you’re in. My peak estrogen level is at 6,352 pg/ml for this retrieval. Let’s just say Brian is a SAINT.  I’m ready to get this show on the road. 20 large follicles are growing and I’m ready to trigger!

Egg retrieval complete and we got 23 eggs! I am so excited to hear this coming out of my drug-induced sleep – I feel pretty good. Now we wait and wait and wait.

Over the two-week period of anxiety-ridden waiting, we get the news for each stage in the process.

The day after our retrieval I get the call that of the 23 eggs, 18 were mature. Okay, more of a drop than I was hoping for, but still good.

Then they tell me that and of the 18 mature eggs, only 12 fertilize. WHAT THE FUCK. Panic mode sets in. All my numbers are dropping so fast. This can’t be a good.

After six days of waiting, we get the call that of the 12 fertilized embryos only 5 made it to blastocysts. CRAP. That’s one less than last time. Be thankful, Holly. You could have none.

Another week of waiting and we get the news that after PGS testing, 2 beautiful embryos came back normal and 2 came back low-level mosaic. So we have 4 transferable embryos. This is GREAT! 4 chances for our baby.

The highs and lows of the waiting game are unreal. I can’t fully explain the anxiety that consumes you during this part of the process, but it’s one of the hardest parts.

Oh and I did not get OHSS – praise Jesus!

I jet-setted off to my BFF’s bachelorette party where I indulged in my first alcoholic beverage in what seemed like eternity. I think it was well deserved.

August 2018

Preparation for transfer number three begins! For this transfer my RE decides we should do an endometrial scratch. An endometrial scratch is a procedure that is done at the beginning of your cycle where a sharp tool is used to scrape the top layer of your uterine lining. The idea is that it will wake up the cells in your uterine lining, help with blood flow and make your lining more receptive to the embryo.  I think I have a pretty high pain tolerance, but this 60 second procedure makes me almost pass out. It is awful. Almost UNBEARABLE.

We discuss with my RE, and while he still seems very confident that my thin lining should not hold us back, we all agree to try something different. People swear that vaginal Viagra will do the trick. My RE isn’t convinced, but he fills the prescription anyways (I think just to appease me). What is vaginal Viagra you ask? Well, it’s Viagra. And I insert it vaginally. Oh it it’s $900 for 9 pills. The things we do to try and have a baby. Am I right?

With all the fancy Viagra I still only got to 5.8mm. I’m not going to lie, when you put this much physical, mental and financial effort into something, it is gut-wrenching to not have the results you were hoping for. It’s a constant cycle of hope and disappointment. Cue the tears.

Even though my lining is thin, my pattern is perfect and my RE wants to move forward. So we do! We transfer a perfect embryo in maybe a not so ideal environment. But I am just happy to keep going. That’s how I can survive this. I keep going or else I’m stuck having to think about everything.

FAILURE. Not pregnant. Total devastation. Lord help me. The only thing I know at this point is keep going. Pick yourself back up and go right into the next cycle. I don’t know how else to function.

My sister’s beautiful baby girl is born. I am so in love. It’s another reminder to keep fighting.

September 2018

Time to start prep for transfer number four. I finally convince my RE that we need to do something else. We need to get my lining thicker. I’m starting to get paranoid. Why aren’t we doing everything we possibly can to thicken my lining? Everything I am reading online says that an ideal lining is over 7-8mm. While my doctor says this is ideal, he also says it is not necessary. He says that women with thin linings like me have successful pregnancies. I have friends whose doctors cancel cycles for linings thicker than mine. The only thing I feel like I can do is trust my doctor. I’ve heard one other thing that has brought success to ladies in my situation. A stim cycle. Not an egg retrieval, but taking the same stimulation injections with the hope that my lining responds better. My RE warns me of the side effects, but I don’t care. I can take all the physical pain in the world, but I’m fading mentally and emotionally. This strong IVF warrior is starting to feel weak. I am starting to lose steam. How much longer can I do this? We have been at it for 14 months now.

I start with the dreadful scratch – this time with Xanax. That helps. My RE hesitantly agrees and I begin stim shots. It is a guessing game. How much do I need to get my lining thick enough, but to not overstimulate my ovaries?

14 days of stim shots and my lining does not respond. 14 FUCKING DAYS. The cycle is canceled. $2,000 in medication for nothing. Raging hormones for nothing. In those 14 days I went in six times for blood work (I literally looked like a drug addict with the bruises on both of my arms) and scans – all with disappointing news.  I tell Brian these appointments are like going to the Ninth Circle of Hell. I go in for the ultrasound and get prodded with a big stick up my hoo-ha. Then I get bad news from the nurse and somehow end up screaming at her, because I need to take my hormonal rage out on someone. I try really hard not to cry while I check out at the front desk. Best to not make eye contact or I might lose my shit on the person making me pay for this torture. I keep trying to hold my shit together while I wait to get my blood work done, which typically includes other crying women in what I will call the Room of Tears. Then I get into my car in the parking lot and cry uncontrollably, only to have someone waiting impatiently on my parking spot. Can’t they see I NEED A FUCKING MINUTE. I exit the parking lot and pull over at the first place I see. I cry hard. It’s more like a scream. No one sees me. No one knows. I feel isolated. I feel alone. Now repeat this six times.

October 2018

It’s about time for another break.

Brian takes us on an adventure to New York City. We explore the concrete jungle. As we walk through Central Park, there is a couple singing one of our favorite songs – 10,000 Reasons. “The sun comes up; it's a new day dawning; It's time to sing Your song again; Whatever may pass and whatever lies before me; Let me be singing when the evening comes.” This is a reminder that God is ever-present in our situation. I need this. I need the reminder that I am not alone in this, that I have not been abandoned.

Brian pulls me out of the darkness. I start to feel like myself again. We decide to LIVE and ENJOY. We decide we will not let infertility steal some of the best moments of our lives.

My best friend gets married in Bay City, Texas! I soak in the sunshine filled ranch life and celebrate with friends.

November 2018

I feel good. My body and my mind needed that break, even if it was only for 4 or 5 weeks. I am ready to begin again.

Transfer number four commences (again). Another horrible scratch – Xanax to the rescue. I start taking the stim shots and after only 4 nights of shots, I’m at a 6.4mm! This is the thickest my lining has ever been for a transfer cycle. A perfect pattern and a thicker lining makes me feel like this is it! My RE is so happy and thinks we should go for it because we risk my lining getting thinner if we push it anymore. So we do!

We transfer my perfect and highest quality embryo and now I wait. I am so hopeful. I feel pregnant. This has to be it. I take a test after 5 days and it’s positive! Along with my excitement there is anxiety. I know this is just a glimmer of hope and there is still a long way to go.

Another chemical. After a few days of positive pregnancy tests, the line starts to fade. It fades until it disappears and just like that I am back in the darkness. Not pregnant after all. The ironic and sadistic thing is that the progesterone shots you take make you feel pregnant. It’s gut-wrenching.

Feeling numb. Feeling broken. Must keep going. Must pick myself back up. Back to the routine. I’ve got this. I’m okay.

I turn 31 and this birthday feels sad. Like something is missing. Thankful for a BFF that came to the rescue with a beautiful and delicious homemade cake to brighten my day.

December 2018

We have two not-so-great embryos left. Two low-level mosaics. Let’s just get this transfer over with. I am cautiously optimistic.

Transfer number five prep. Endometrial scratch: check. Absolutely terrible and the idea of it has started to give me panic attacks.

12 days of shots and another unresponsive cycle. The cycle is canceled. $2,000 of medication for nothing. Trauma to my body for nothing. Feeling hopeless. Need a break.

January 2019 – March 2019

A break. The best decision I have ever made. I had been so aggressive, so non-stop that I wasn’t aware of what my mind and body needed. Lesson learned: TAKE MORE BREAKS. We travel, we enjoy life as is with no thoughts about fertility.

We go to the Bahamas! This is our first vacation that is longer than a weekend in over two years. I swim with pigs AND sharks. I laugh until my belly aches. I have my morning bloody mary at 10am sharp. I don’t think about fertility issues at all.

We go to Mexico City and fall in love. The food, the culture, the people are a dream. We explore the city and walk 11 miles in ONE day.

And then something miraculous happens. I start my very own natural period. This is a first. Not sure what to make of it. I call my doctor and he is very excited. It is an opportunity to monitor my own natural cycle (for the very first time!) and see if my body does what it should. If I create a mature follicle (egg) then we will do an IUI. If not, then we will proceed with my fifth transfer. I am scared and anxious to go back down the rabbit hole of infertility. I do it anyways.

April 2019

I went in for my monitoring scan excited and hopeful. No mature follicle. Not even a little follicle. Disappointment doesn’t properly describe the feeling. But we have a backup plan. I will start meds (no scratch!) for my fifth transfer.

8 days of stims and my lining is about a 6.2mm. Not what we had hoped for after giving my body a long break, but it seems like that’s as good as it’s going to get. Green light for transfer. Now I wait.

Negative. Not even a hint of a pregnancy. My last embryos gone. I’ve been testing all week, so I know what is coming. As I drive to the clinic for my blood test I feel physically ill. My chest is tight. I go through the motions. The cheery front desk ladies ask me how I’m doing and I lie. “I’m good.” And then the woman taking my blood says “Oh! You get to find out today!”….insert all the eye rolls.

The dreaded “I’m so sorry, but you’re not pregnant” phone call doesn’t sting as much as I thought it would. For some reason, I don’t feel the same overwhelming sadness that has hit me in the past. Time for another break. Time to figure out what’s next.

This is my story of deep struggle and unexplainable strength during times when I thought for sure I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed. I have not gotten my miracle yet. At times, my story is dark, but it is real. It is raw. It is the reality that I am living. AND I still have hope. There are glimmers of joy and beauty everywhere I look. I hope that you will draw strength from my story and recognize that we are all capable of so much more than we ever imagined. I am taking these next steps one day at a time and committing to LIVING instead of waiting while the rest of my story unfolds. I hope you will follow along with me as we start from scratch.