Aftermath

It’s been 11 days since I was told my embryo transfer didn’t work. I’m still in deep mourning. My sister and friends have tried to be supportive as best as they can. But no one can feel like I do. I sporadically cry anywhere and everywhere. All it takes is a triggering thought of the enormity of what I lost, the possibilities of what could have been, and how much I had wanted this pregnancy so badly.

I told you in my intro I had experiences which I needed to talk about, which led me to start this blog. This is one BIG reason.

My fertility journey started two years ago. I had resigned myself that I would not be able to find a partner to have a child with. So I started to look into other possibilities, such as IVF. My doctor told me not to fool myself- the odds were definitely stacked against me. I was 42 at the time. But in spite of looking at the statistics, I felt I had it in me to be a great mom and that I could get pregnant. The first round of IVF netted 6 viable eggs but my embryos all died by the sixth day. I remember when the nurse called that day. I felt like I was on a rollercoaster ride and then the track disappeared. I didn’t expect my embryos to die.

But I was determined to make better eggs and go for a second round of IVF. Up until then, I generally took care of myself- I ate lots of vegetables and fruits, exercised, got enough sleep and lived a low stress life. But I never actually looked into the details of making better eggs. For the first time, I saw a naturopath. She agreed that I was 70% there. But then I really drilled into what I was putting into my body and started a fertility diet. Before I only ate around 1200 calories but then I increased it to 1500 calories. I introduced different things into my diet, like nuts and seeds, plant milk, oatmeal, and more avocado than what was in a salmon avocado roll! I also took the Opti-Ova supplements, and drank two other supplements. But it worked. I got three embryos that were PGT tested and one was genetically ok. I cried. I made it further than the first round.

I tested my lining with the EMMA test and it came back perfect. I had a genetically good egg and a sticky lining. What more do I need? My doctor cautioned me there was still a 50% chance it would not be successful. And I knew it going in. But for some reason I thought that if I put the work in, if I willed it hard enough, it would come true. And that wasn’t the case. For the second year in a row, on June 30, a nurse gave me bad news about my embryo.

I was unprepared for the call since they had told me they would tell me the next day, not the same day. It was a beautiful bright sunny day and I was in my kitchen. I was preparing to reheat some bone broth. When she said who she was, I could hear the tone of voice, the quietness that she had bad news. And I made her tell me. I thanked her in monotone. It is hard to be a nurse to have to tell women this bad news. I didn’t want to have to burden her with my shock and sadness. But then there was silence. I thought my doctor would call me to say sorry. But there was no call. (Last year, he called right away after to say sorry). I stopped making the bone broth and sat in my couch in the living room. I texted my closest friends who were along with me on this journey.

And then I cried. I cried like an inconsolable child. I cried because I thought God was unfair to me. I didn’t deserve to not be a mom. I worked all my life so hard in my career to be able to be the best mom (ie financially stable) and now I’m at this point where I ready but my body won’t cooperate?! I cried and apologized to my embryo. I wanted to be the best Mommy I could be but somehow I wasn’t able to bring them into the world. I failed them. So many thoughts.

A part of me died. But instead of bouncing back like I did last year, determined to make another round of good eggs, I feel hesitant. Like I wonder if my body can do it again.. go through a third round of IVF. I am now 44 and when I read the stats (1.6% chance of successfully getting to the end) I kind of am scared now more than determined. It’s like I feel like I lost my best chance and I’m afraid I can’t recreate the magic trick again.

But something deep down inside me tells me to push on. To try one last time and go all out. Last time I didn’t do accupuncture. This time I will add it to my routine and hope for the best. I still have to talk to all my doctors. I have lined up appointments with them for the next two weeks. Sometimes I have moments of hope. That it’s still possible for me for me to have a child. It makes me excited and happy. Some days I just think of my lost embryos and wonder what could have been.