Infertility, Our Infertility story

Here we go again (IVF#4)

November 1, 2010

October 28, 2010

Well, after what seemed like forever, we had our third embryo transfer yesterday.  This is our 4th IVF treatment, but only the third embryo transfer, as the first was canceled 90% through the cycle.  So, this is our 3rd frozen cycle.

The first transfer was exciting and emotional.  We saw pictures of our embryos for the first time and knew they would be safely transported back where they belonged.  We were all smiles. It was emotional in a happy way.

The second time was nerve-wracking, but still a little exciting.  Another chance.

This third time was not happy nor exciting.  It was simply something I knew I had to do.  I had remained fairly indifferent about the whole thing, until it was time to go and I burst into tears.  I just knew that I was being set up for the worst kind of failure and didn’t feel ready for all of the crazy whirlwind again.  This time I prayed a different prayer.  I didn’t pray to get pregnant.  I prayed that I would either get pregnant with a healthy baby or that I would not get pregnant at all.  Funny, how you have to be so specific with what you wish for.  That is what three miscarriages will do to you.

I didn’t really know how I felt until the actual day arrived.  I thought I might feel excited as it got closer to time.  I didn’t.  I just sort of dreaded it.   And, then I thought to myself, any possible joy or happiness in the whole process slowly, but surely eventually eludes us.  I remember this feeling much more poignantly, when we heard our third baby’s heartbeat in June of this year, but were told at the same time, “You are threatening to miscarry.”  I felt so robbed of the joy of seeing a tiny baby on that screen with a flickering heartbeat.  And, now, I can’t even muster up any excitement over the idea of being “pregnant until proven otherwise.”

Especially after the news from our embryologist for today’s procedure.  Of our four remaining frozen embryos, two did not survive the thaw.  Therefore, they had to thaw the remaining two and those didn’t fare all that well as they both lost 50% of their cells in the thaw.  50% is our clinic’s minimum for performing a transfer.  So, our chances are diminished, but it is still possible.

I think people think I am negative, joyless, dismal and overreacting  regarding my chances.  And, I know that is how I seem.  I don’t want to be that person.  But, I haven’t had a choice in the matter.  I’m just being realistic.  I don’t think I’m really either positive or negative, just hanging in the middle waiting to see what fate will be dealt out next.  Because above all, I have learned that I am not in control. If I were overly positive right now, I might just be insane.  Consider Einstein’s definition of insanity…  “doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”  I’m just realistic, but hopeful that some day it will happen.  I’m just glad that others can be hopeful for me, even during times when I can’t.

A friend said something interesting on Facebook the other day…”God never says no to prayers.  He has three answers.  1. Yes  2. Not yet  3. I have something better in mind”  So, I’m hoping for #1 or #3.

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  • I tend to do the same thing when undergoing treatment, prepare myself for the worst then I’m always pleasantly surprised if the worst does not indeed happen. In terms of statistics, I saw a quote somewhere a couple of months after we lost Lily, it said “Once you’ve been on the losing side of great odds, you never find statistics comforting again”.
    Praying that in this situation you prove the statistics wrong and that this cycle is the one. Either way we’ll be here standing beside you & reminding you in this crazy roller coaster ride of IF you are not alone!