Excuses aside (I can come up with 3 to be exact), let’s recap.
Shortly after my 40th birthday I received news about yet another failed IVF cycle. As a result, I was trying to come to terms with my disappointing track record. I had endured 8 years of invasive fertility treatments and tried to pick up where we left off. It didn’t work and to be honest, I was pissed.
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A few months later we decided to go back to the clinic. I can’t say what I was expecting from the meeting. We’ve been there a hundred times before. Maybe it was closure or maybe it was some sort of miracle. I do know that I would have done anything to move forward from the state of mind I was in.
We shuffled into the office and sat down. The conversation always starts with an apology and then the doctor draws my womb-doodle. I heard “less than 10% - blah-blah-blah”. And while he didn’t actually say, “don’t spend any more money on this,” you could tell that’s what he was trying to say as diplomatically as possible. I could see he was disappointed for us. After all, he’s been by my side for about 8+ years. But this time the meeting ended differently.
This time our Doctor suggested using someone else’s eggs...
Wait… what? This is absolutely not how I envisioned my “happily ever after”. I was in shock. After he said that it was like Charlie Brown’s teacher was in the office. “wah-wah-wah”. When we left the office I revisited my options on the way home like so many times before.
1. Continue with IVF
2. Adoption
3. Kidnapping
4. Do nothing
1. Continue with IVF:
Well this was an option before, but if I was going to trust my doctor with all that scientific data he collected on me over 20% of my life then we should probably pass. Plus, I already did this half a dozen times and it’s not like there are any Groupons or frequent flier miles floating around. I would have found those by now. Pass.
2. Adoption:
It took me about 5 seconds of looking into the adoption process to realize it wasn’t for me. Adoption is wonderful but I did not have the energy to wrap my head around an equally complicated, costly, and risky process. I was tired. I already know way too much about the fertility game and wasn’t about to switch gears at this point. Pass.
3. Kidnapping:
Too much work and also happens to be illegal. Pass.
4. Do Nothing:
It basically came down to one question. “In a few years would I regret not trying this?”
Well, yes. I mean, I’ve been trying EVERYTHING so yes, I would most certainly regret overlooking one last approach that might have worked for us. Are you kidding me?
After chewing on that question I realized the egg donor option wasn’t a bad idea after all. Stella would have a half-sibling (which was obviously very important to me). Jeff would still be biologically related to our children so that type of personal connection would still exist – for him, at least. And I would still be able to actually carry a baby and relive all those pregnancy nightmares that you forgot about when you decide to get pregnant – again. So, hurrah!
After this epiphany I found myself maniacally researching how families with donor egg children are doing, and how those children were raised and informed about their upbringing. I read a few books and we talked to a couple therapists. I also talked to people who had donor egg families themselves. Frankly, I had a hard time finding a reason not to do it. So, after a good amount of due-diligence I was all-in (and so was Jeff.) Here we go – again!
The chance of getting pregnant via egg donor is around 65%. That statistic is a LOT better than the 10% I had using my own eggs. So this time around my attitude was much better. I was relaxed and felt like we had a fighting chance. Not to mention that most of the pressure was off because I wasn’t doing egg retrieval with all those scheduled shots. I was basically putting her eggs in my basket. I was actually a surrogate – for myself.
After a few months of online people shopping we finally found our girl. I have to say, shopping for humans is weird. It was just like a dating website except you have a LOT more information about the person – except their name. I’m talking about writing skills, mental and physical health information, current job, education level etc. You even find out about their immediate family. Boom. Come to think of it, these dating websites could probably learn a thing or two from the database we were looking at (if you know what I mean).
Our girl went in for her egg retrieval appointment sometime last summer. This is when they knock you out and suck all the eggs out that were stimulated by medication for the last 2-3 weeks prior. It isn’t a pleasant process. Anybody that is willing to do that for you is a hero (trust me). I waited by the phone to hear how many eggs were retrieved…. 24. I was in shock. The most we ever got from my own egg retrieval was 7 or 8. By the end of the fertilization process we only had about 1 or 2 to work with. So I was absolutely thrilled. We split our batch of eggs with 2 other families so everyone got 8. Isn’t that weird? I know…
Then they immediately fertilize the eggs. This was also a big deal. You find out how many embryos you win. After 5 days of daily check ups on cell division and quality we ended up with 3 (Grade A) embryos. Those younger girls sure have some magical eggs. Damn.
5 days after the egg retrieval I had to go in for the big day. I wanted the process to be over quickly so I had them pop in 2 embryos and asked them to freeze the last one. Done and Done. The two-week wait is the worst. You over analyze everything your body is telling you. Normal people don't even know they are pregnant by this time but if you're an infertility junkie, you know way too much. I compared my days with notes I took from the last 13 cycles. Sadly, 2 weeks later we got a big NEGATIVE on my blood test. I wasn’t as discouraged though because we had a contract for a few tries. We still had 1 froyo left over too! So a month later I went back for that one and guess what…. Freaking twins. TWINSSSSSSSS.
Unbelievable. How in the world did a tiny little cell that was frozen, kick-start itself and end up splitting into 2 whole human beings inside of my broken-ass body? We were absolutely beside ourselves and also a little scared about all the risks that come with twins too. Interesting fact – identical twins are not hereditary. They are spontaneous and the chance of it happening to anyone is .043%. And trust me when I tell you it can happen.to.anyone.
Now, about 16 months later here I sit on maternity leave with two adorable identical twin boys who resemble their father on every level. I’ve had a lot to time to think about this mess we were in for so many years. I did not beat infertility. I wish I could have but it wasn’t possible. But we did find a way to work around it, and we couldn’t be happier. Now I understand that sometimes you have to give something up to let another miracle happen. My life may have not unfolded the way I thought it should, but what did happen was meant for me, and me alone.
Some people might question the reason I share this information and it’s pretty simple. After sharing my previous blog I was contacted by a lot (LOTS) of people who were going through the same thing, or who were getting ready to start the same process. I wanted to make sure everyone knows there was a positive ending for us after all that work. I’m not embarrassed or worried about what the world will think of me for sharing an incredibly personal story. It’s my story to tell so I'm telling it. It’s more important to me that the 1 in 4 women who are affected by infertility know there is something waiting for you. It might not be what you expected but you are here for a purpose that purpose is different from everyone else’s.
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