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.