Heartbroken. Devastated. Distraught. Absolutely no word I even type can describe how we are feeling or what we are going through, yet again. Another failed transfer. Another failed transfer of “normal” PGS embryos. FAILED. An 80% success rate down the drain. $10,000 down the drain. The pain. The agony. It’s just too much. My faith has faded. There’s nothing left. Six IVF cycles and I still can’t get pregnant or carry a child to term. SIX. Yes you read that right — we have been through SIX (insert f-word here) in vitro cycles. No…that’s not normal. We’ve lost TEN embryos…TEN babies. And since October $10,000 spent on testing, freezing, courier fees all not covered by insurance.
You’re probably asking yourself “Why do they keep trying?” “Why didn’t they tell anybody about the transfer?” Well my friends and family…after a while, keeping you in the loop is pointless to me. It adds way more anxiety and more pressure for it to work. Also, when a “fertile” is trying to get pregnant they don’t usually share that news so why should I share mine? I’m trying to keep our journey feel somewhat “normal” – Ha, like that could ever happen. I’m becoming a broken record. Same thing over and over again, and no results to show for anything. It’s more embarrassing than anything. The prayers can stop. Thank you for them and while we’ve appreciated them, they’ve also clearly done us no good. They’ve all gone unanswered. So thanks for that God. Keep up the great work.
Cause I actually thought the prayers I said daily, nightly with my husband while he rubbed Holy Water on my tummy (thank you to my cousin Hannah for that!) would make a difference. WRONG. If anything, they kept a little glimmer of hope inside me so I guess that’s something.
But now…now that’s faded. The hope is gone. I have no joy. No cheer. No light. Complete and utter devastation is probably a good way to put it. Here we are, going on our 4th year of infertility while everyone we know around us is pregnant or has newborns. I bet we know 10-15 friends/family pregnant right now. Some with the help of IVF on their first round. Believe me, we are happy for you. But it’s a CONSTANT reminder of what we will most likely never have. And it is heartbreaking. HEARTBREAKING. There are no words to describe NOR will you EVER EVER EVER understand what we have been through.
I’m actually pretty sure I’ve been keeping the pregnancy test companies in business. Hell, all “infertiles” do. Am I right ladies?
I can’t bring myself to go to baby showers. I haven’t gone to one in about three years. So please, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d much rather prefer to not even get invited. I’ve had a few friends not invite me on purpose and you have no idea how much respect that shows me that they have. I don’t need birth announcements either. I see enough of your fifteen posts daily on Instagram or other social media. Yes, you’re proud and thankful. We know. Hell, I would be too. If I ever had a kid, I’d post hella pictures too because I wouldn’t believe it was true. But it’s a slap in the face to me and my body. I can’t do what a woman’s body is supposed to do — carry a baby. Feel that baby kick. Feel the hiccups. Talk to the baby at night or read lullabies. Feel the pain of labor. Or hear the beautiful sounds of a baby crying – yes, it’s the most precious noise to me. But, I won’t get any of it. I had to pick up a dedication gift for our Goddaughter a couple weeks ago and I couldn’t even do that without crying.
So, back to what got us here…we transferred two beautiful babies on Jan 7th. The day couldn’t have gone more perfectly. My due date…would have been the week of my dad’s birthday. All the more reason I thought it was a sure sign it would work.
We do everything we can to try to get these babies to stick. No caffeine. Nothing cold to drink. Eat only warming foods. NO ICE CREAM! Try acupuncture (which costs hella money by the way). Warm your back every night. Warm your belly. Warm your feet. Bed rest day of transfer. Keep up with the meds (which by the way, the side effects are just f-word lovely). I haven’t thrown away any of my sharps containers yet since we started in vitro and I bet it would just make you sick the amount of shit I’ve injected into my body…five times a day sometimes during a stim cycle.
Oh, but don’t worry. No one considers infertility a disease. Most insurance companies actually consider it an “optional” treatment. Optional? Yes. It’s my fault I have PCOS and only one fallopian tube. It was totally my choice to not be able to have sex and get pregnant.
What we have been through is what no one, and I mean NO ONE, should ever ever EVER have to go through. And if I hear ONE MORE PERSON tell me to “just relax and try it on your own again” or “just think about adopting” or “maybe you should take a break” — relaxing doesn’t help. Adopting is around $50,000 and I can’t just go pick out a baby and go home with one. Do you have that kind of money laying around? Take a break? I’m 31 years old and wanted a baby by the time I was 30. We want what we want and didn’t give up hope once. We kept pushing. I think that takes a lot of courage and fight. But now…my hope is gone. My fight is gone.
I’m done. This one takes the cake.
Thank you for your blunt honesty- no sugar coating. It is painful, it is heartache, and the biggest test ever. I am so sorry this happened. I have no words to help but keep hugging your husband.
Nothing I can say will help…I know, because I’ve been there. But just know that you are not alone. Everything you are feeling, I am too. When we are put in this position, nothing seems fair. We try everything and we are still waiting on our babies. Feel the way you want….you are certainly allowed to…just know I’m here for ya if you ever need a friend to talk with that “gets it”. xo
I found your site while googling about fertility struggles because I am going through the same thing. I’m 40 and never been married but have been looking into having a baby with donor sperm since I was 36. I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s hypothryoidism, an autoimmune disease, when I got bloodwork in relation to fertility. That threw me off from being able to do treatments for a long time while I got it under control. I did an IUI in July of last year and it failed.
I was scheduled to do another IUI this month but low and behold, a massive snowstorm is due to hit us the very day that I would have needed to do the IUI. I just knew in my heart that this was going to happen. Everyone tells me “just wait till next month”, but at my age every second counts, and with my luck next month will be more of the same. I am having to look for hotels to stay near the clinic, the doctors keep claiming they’ll come in but who knows. And the doctor said to me “I’ve never had a patient be scheduled on a day we were going to have a snowstorm!”. Making me feel even worse.
I have been having major struggles with my faith because of all this, and I’ve stopped praying because I just can’t have the energy to do it anymore. I prayed so hard that I would be able to do the IUI this month and it would work, and I’m sure it wouldn’t have, but even so, I just wanted to be able to do it.
I don’t like telling people I’m trying because of their disappointment when nothing happens.
I never want to go to baby showers. I don’t want to see pictures of family members babies. I don’t like hearing the neighbor’s children outside. I don’t want to attend family get-togethers. I feel like I want to go away somewhere where no one knows me and they don’t have children.
Since I’m single, I don’t know that I’d ever be allowed to adopt, and I’m certainly not rolling in dough. I’ve got my credit card practically maxed out from testing costs, medication, appointments, none of which is covered for me. I’ve held up the rest of my life as far as employment or further education in the hopes I will be pregnant and raising a baby soon.
I have nightmares about running into old schoolmates, all of whom have children by now, and having to tell them, “I’m trying to have a baby!”.
I know a family from my old church who everyone in it has at least 5 children, usually ten and counting. I never want to see them.
I feel like God is against me, especially with things like a snowstorm coming on the day I needed to do my procedure, when we had weather in the 70’s at Christmastime here in Maryland (but my clinic was closed at that time for the holiday, just when I would have needed to do an IUI).
People tell me everything will work out for the best, but that doesn’t help.
The only thing I can think of why God would want me to go through this, is, maybe he wants me to see what other people are going through and try to help. I don’t know.
I just wanted to let you know that I really feel for you and reading your story did help me to know that I’m not alone, which is important for me because I really do feel all alone in this journey.
When I reading your story I felt like I was reading my own. I feel the exact same way. Your words are right on point. I don’t know what else to think. I am here if you ever want to talk. My name is Gris and here is my email 🙂 Sending you HUGS!