IVF - More like IV F**K This!

 I just got rid of a box that had been sitting in my guest room floor for the last year or so and to me it feels like a final goodbye. The box that was sent to me by my fertility clinic around this time last year. The box that had it's content discarded and replenished as my (in)fertility journey of IVF changed. The box that once symbolized hope and dreams the first time it arrived. Today, as I discarded all it's content for the very last time, it's bringing out some emotions that prompted me to write this.

About 3 years ago a ruptured cyst in my ovary led to a PCOS discovery by my OB. Until this point on, having a baby was not even on my radar; I thought I always had this clarity that motherhood was not a journey for me. But with the diagnosis came a disclaimer from my OB that infertility is common for women with PCOS and as a woman in 30s, her recommendation was to start trying to get pregnant like yesterday, if that is something I/we wanted. Something shifted in me then, looking back I think it was the Type A in me that wanted this challenge. You think I might not be able to have a baby? Well think again!

My husband and I went from not wanting a child to trying to make a baby in a span of few weeks. And the thing about human nature is when you know you can't have something, your mind/ body just wants it more and more. With each negative test, the want just got bigger and bigger. For me it continued to blur the line between I want to have a baby vs. I need to succeed at this. We tried different medications and continued failing at it. Then came the fun part of starting the IVF process. For those that do not know - the IVF process involves injecting bunch of different hormones in your body to get your body to produce as many eggs as possible - the eggs are then retrieved and fertilized in a lab to possibly get as many embryos as the sperm can fertilize - if you get lucky and have embryos to implant, you then inject bunch more hormones in your body to trick it to prepare for conception before you even get there - then implanting the said embryo and keeping your fingers and toes crossed hoping for the best. 

I still remember the day I received the "IVF" box from my fertility clinic after we decided to give this process a go. It was like opening a mini clinic in your home - our dining table taken over by syringes, medicines, and the likes turning into a make-shift lab. My husband became my personal nurse, mixing medicines and administering shots like he knew what he was doing. We were having fun the first time around - I took so many videos throughout the process naively thinking we would have success the very first round. In my mind, I was capturing happy memories that we would fondly look back at some day. The pain and bruises from the shots, the physical pain and discomfort I felt, the aftermath of egg retrieval and the physical pain from it - none of it mattered, we were happy and hopeful. Then the results started to pour in jerking us into the reality of it all. We ended with two below average embryos and a suggestion from clinic to go through the process and try again. Finally the reality sunk in - just because your clinic bloats their success rate does not mean you will be lucky enough to fall into their promised success rate percentage. 

We tried to implant one of the embryos, which of course did not take so we were back to square one - but in the worst mental and physical spirits this time around. With the positivity worn off, everything felt like a battle - my body was bruising more, the shots were more painful, the side effects hitting me in the worst ways possible. With every pregnancy news from friends, family, and celebrities, I kept feeling like I was the biggest failure in the world - incapable of doing one thing that my body should be able to do. Somehow I made it through the process and the result came in even worse this time around - 0 embryo to implant. That result crushed me in more ways than one and to this day I am still recovering from the big fat zero that showed up on my screen. So much time, money, physical and mental strength wasted for nothing and I had reached my breaking point. I resorted to blaming myself - maybe it's because I am fat, maybe it's because I am not religious enough, maybe I am not eating right, maybe I am not working out enough or maybe I am working out too much - I kept looking for reasons in myself, refusing to believe that sometimes infertility is just unexplained, and leave it at that. I have gone through enough poking, prodding, and tests to last a lifetime, and if there aren't answers there, I needed to teach myself to accept that I wouldn't find it in little things I may have been doing or not doing. 

From blaming, I switched to praying - maybe if I turn to religion, I will have better luck. Looking back, this is something I laugh about the most; the desperation to succeed. Thankfully the "resorting to praying" did result in an epiphany that helped me a lot. I sat down to pray but when I tried to ask for what I wanted, my hesitation shocked me. To pray for something, you would probably need to picture what you want in your head but when I tried to picture a baby in my arms, it wasn't there. I can close my eyes and ask for better job, more money, better health, anything else in a heartbeat; but when the time came to pray for a baby, I suddenly could not picture myself as a mom. I wanted to pray for a baby so badly, but deep down it didn't come from within. Did I want to succeed in this journey, yes? Did I want to prove that I could get pregnant, also yes? Do I want to hold a baby of my own someday? Unsure! When I visit Reddit threads on IVF and read struggles of women, I feel for them so much. So many women talk about knowing from when they were little that they wanted a baby of their own. So many talk about strained relationships with their spouse and family members over it. So many women going through the IVF process 6/7 times, still wanting to fight the chance at motherhood, no matter the cost. And here I am, not even able to send a prayer in my favor. I have a below average embryo chilling in a lab, I know there are women who would kill to take that chance of implanting an embryo, no matter what grading it is. When I think about it that way, it makes me realize how privileged I am. My husband and I are still on the same page, our relationship is still fine whether there is a baby or not. My life is not even disrupted to the point I have seen infertility can do. I am doing so much better than I could be. But despite all this, the failure of it all still hurts. I am someone who loves having control in things, I prep for weeks before interviews, I bust my behind at my work, I pour my life and soul into planning vacations, I give it my all and I relish in the success of things I set my mind to. It's hard to go from having control over your successes and failures to going through the process where the result is not in your hands at all. Baby or no baby, having gone through so much and with nothing to show for is what kills me the most when I look back at it all. 

The thing about time though is that it does indeed heal and lessen the blow with each passing day. I have gone from crying myself to sleep every night to most days forgetting the grief I went through. Some days I spend in the vicious cycle of what ifs, but most days I am just counting my blessings. 

If you are going through the journey of infertility - virtual hugs for you! I will not give you any unsolicited advises, keep doing what you think is right for you. Only thing I will tell you is that it's not your fault, don't let anyone else tell you otherwise. 

If someone shares about their infertility journey with you - know that it takes a lot to open up to someone and be vulnerable, so their story is not yours to share or circulate around about or for your entertainment. Please for the love of god, stop with advices - if losing weight, eating more vegetables, giving up caffeine, drinking more water, working out more/ less, or any of the myth or things that may have worked for you was the answer, the (in)fertility clinics and industry would not even exist. One common question I get asked is why don't I explore the adoption route - and I don't know how to explain to anyone, but it's not the same. It might be tough to understand, and honestly I could care less if that doesn't make sense to you, but just know that it's not the same and you can stop asking this question to anyone else in this journey. I know it's probably not easy to know what to respond when someone is sharing something so sensitive with you, sometimes being there for them and holding their hand is enough. Warmth and love go much longer than suggestions. :)

With this post, I am officially ending the infertility chapter and my quest in motherhood. I have allowed myself to feel all the feelings and believe that I have come out of the other side okay. Until next time folks!