In May, we decided to try another IUI. After switching doctors, we felt a renewed sense of hope and were very eager to start our third round of IUI with Dr. Dunaway. His plan was to aggressively start this cycle with Clomid, a drug who definitely lives up to her harsh reputation. I didn’t feel any side effects while taking the medication until the days that followed. During this time I was also dealing with emotions that I did not know how to handle. These emotions coupled with the Clomid turned me into a complete basket case. I had the hot flashes, the mood swings, the nausea, and I cried uncontrollably. Since this was my first time on this medication, I had no idea how my body was going to react as far as producing follicles that met the criteria for an IUI. I was also worried that the stress that I was undergoing would affect the results as well.
At my first ultrasound and lab work check up, there was definitely some growth, but not enough. I was worried, but my nurse kept reassuring me that everything would turn out fine. After about four days of consistent ultrasounds and blood draws, the two dominant follicles had finally reached a mature size. After receiving approval to take the trigger shot, I reflected back as I often do, and realized that I had worked myself up for nothing. I decided that despite it all, I had to focus on myself, which if I’m being totally honest, up until recently I wasn’t really good at. Augie and I would be en route to Metairie that following Saturday for the insemination. The whole way there I reminded myself this was the most important thing happening that day.
I felt something different during this IUI procedure that I had never felt during the previous ones, which filled me with a sense of hope that I thought was long gone. Augie and I shared a special moment in the room right before the doctor performed the procedure. Typically, Augie and I aren’t vocal in our spirituality, but he led us in a prayer that moved me to tears. Augie sat near my head and held my hand during the entire thing. I was at such peace with the whole thing, and secretly in my mind I almost convinced myself that this would be the procedure that would make us parents. Two weeks later, I found myself staring into the eyes of yet another negative pregnancy test.
This failed IUI came with an agonizing hurt that trumped the two before it. Subconsciously, I put so much pressure on this particular procedure as well as myself that I was convinced that this one had to be the one that worked. I didn’t want to get out of bed and face the looming hurt that the wretched negative pregnancy test brought upon that day. Thankfully, with encouragement from my sister and Augie, I got up and got dressed and forced myself to forget reality until I was ready to face it again.
That particular day and the ones that followed have been full of emotional highs and lows. When we changed doctors, Augie and I made a promise to each other that the third IUI would be the last one. After the heartbreak of yet another failed fertility treatment, we decided it was time to move on to IVF. This type of treatment always seemed so far fetched. In the beginning, IVF seemed to be our only option, but we quickly changed our mind to IUI when we decided to use donor sperm to build our family. Talking to our doctor and doing my own research led me to believe that IUI was the best treatment for me given the circumstances. I was told I had a good chance that this type of treatment would be successful. Three months later, I’d face the reality that this wasn’t the case at all. I don’t regret those three IUIs. I’d always have regrets if I never gave IUI a shot. Looking back, I truly believe that those failed IUIs brought us closer to the plan that’s been laid out for us. In the last two months I feel as though I have been able to accept the fact that I have very little control of what happens in my life as far as when I will become a mother.
Our IVF journey started almost immediately after the failed IUI. Luckily, I scheduled the appointments necessary before hand, just as a precaution right before we went through with the IUI. Even though I felt good about it, something told me to schedule everything just in case. In June I began the protocol to start preparing my body for the IVF process. IVF is a more invasive treatment, but also has a tremendously higher success rate. To begin, Augie and I had to sign our lives away for all the legal purposes and go through and read the folder filled with paper work before we committed. I was a complete nervous wreck. I went through and high lighted and paper clipped everything not once, not twice, but three times just to make sure I wouldn’t miss a single detail. Throughout this whole process I told myself I’d be as educated as humanly possible on this type of treatment because of the financial investment that we would be making. With a huge success rate, come huge dollar signs. Augie and I couldn’t afford to pay nearly $15,000 upfront, so our only option was to finance everything through a recommended fertility finance company. Not only did I have to keep up with the paper work given to me by the doctor, I now had to keep up with everything that involved the financing. For a few weeks, I felt as though my head was going to explode.
At our first consultation, Dr. Dunaway told me I was his “outlier”. At first I took that as an insult because I mean who really likes to be the person detached from all the others in a group? He’s had so much success with fertility treatments; I definitely didn’t want to be the outcast in that success. He then explained that because of my young age, I had many advantages when it came to IVF. He told me I’d even be a good candidate for a fresh transfer. This meant that once the eggs were retrieved, they would be fertilized, and 5 days later, one or two could be transferred directly into my uterus. This idea had me over the moon with excitement. From hearing stories from other IVF patients, I never knew that it was possible for an IVF journey to be a short one. He told me that he would monitor my estrogen levels, and if they stayed under 4,000, I’d have a fresh transfer and could be pregnant within a week of the egg retrieval. This kept me motivated and was a constant reminder that I needed to stay focused on myself.
Once all the details were ironed out and I finished up the pack of birth control I was taking to neutralize my hormones, I was ready to begin the injections. Part of what makes the IVF procedure so successful is the medicine. Of course, in a typical “Madison fashion”, the process to get the medicine wasn’t an easy one. The plane in which the package was on had technical difficulties, which delayed the flight for a day. I knew the package needed to be temperature controlled so I spent the next 24 hours on the phone with the company finding ways to get the package to me as quickly as possible. Of course, after being transferred nearly 20 times, talking to computers, and finally getting ahold of a human, I learned that my package would arrive the next afternoon. When it arrived, the ice packets were melted and everything was room temperature. Cue waterworks. I immediately called the nurse, who told me to call the pharmacy. Two hours later I was reassured that the medicine was fine. Once again, looking back I can admit that I completely overreacted.
To start, I had to give one shot in the abdomen every evening between 4 and 6 pm to give the medicine full control over my hormones. I’ve always been wary to give myself shots just because of the obvious point of sticking myself with a needle. I’ve always relied on someone else to give me my shots. However, after the first shot that my mother in law gave me, I was encouraged to try to give them to myself. The next day and for the 13 days of shots that followed, I proudly gave myself the shots. After the first week, I had two more injections that were added to my daily regimen. I prepared a medicine cabinet in which I organized and went to every evening to prepare the injections. I think it was during this time that I realized I was gaining my strength back. I no longer felt the need to rely on someone to give me a shot, and with that feeling I started to feel like I didn’t need to depend on anyone to help control my emotions. After that realization, the shots were a breeze. Now I feel like I’m a pro at drawing up medication and stabbing myself in the abdomen with a needle, and I’ve never felt more proud.
I’d visit the doctor’s office frequently to check on my maturing follicles and for lab work. A couple of days before the egg retrieval, my doctor was still monitoring my estrogen levels, and I still had high hopes that he’d be performing a fresh transfer in just a few days. Every ultrasound I got, the news got better. My body was reacting perfectly to the medications. I was growing follicles like a champ and they were all maturing beautifully. I couldn’t believe that for the first time since we began treatment that my body was actually cooperating. However, after leaving the office that morning, I got a phone call around lunchtime that changed our IVF plan. That day the nurse told me I had over 20 follicles present on the ultrasound, which to my surprise, is more than double the average amount. Unfortunately, there was a downfall of having over achiever ovaries—high estrogen. She proceeded to tell me that my estrogen had shot up over night to 4,900. I immediately knew what she was going to say next. No fresh transfer. I was heartbroken. I had been so focused on this fresh transfer and so focused that my time was finally coming. Thankfully a wonderful friend was with when I got the news. She helped me realize that there were some positive things that came with a frozen transfer. Even though this meant my wait was longer, the success rate of a frozen transfer is higher than that of a fresh.
I had no other choice but to let go of the idea of a fresh transfer. I told myself to focus on nothing but the egg retrieval. My egg retrieval was scheduled for a Thursday. That morning Augie and I met my mom at the hospital and I was called to the back. Before I knew it, I was waking up with cramps sent straight from the fiery pits of hell. Once I came out of the anesthesia, Dr. Dunaway came in and told me he had retrieved 26 eggs. I was in complete shock. I made 26 eggs. He had 26 potential children somewhere in a lab in a dish waiting to be fertilized. With that news, I had no problem letting go of the fresh transfer. I knew now that it was only a matter of time before one of those eggs would become our baby.
I’m not going to lie; my recovery from the egg retrieval was rough. My ovaries were huge and I was at major risk for hyperstimulation. Luckily I had Netflix and lots of Gatorade that got me through the rest of the weekend; along with sweet friends who constantly checked on me and even came visit. I then waited for the phone call that would update me with the status of the eggs. The following day, I received a phone call that delivered the most amazing news—I had 22 eggs, out of the 26 that fertilized. That meant I had 22 potential babies. Realistically I know I cannot have 22 children, but it sure feels nice to know my body did something great.
The days that followed, I kept receiving more and more good news. All of my eggs made it through all the phases and are all officially embryos. We are overjoyed! On top of that, majority of the embryos that are frozen are considered to be strong and healthy. Without getting too scientific, this means that somewhere among those 22 embryos are our babies that we hopefully get the privilege to raise and love unconditionally. I dream about those babies and I am looking forward to the day when I can finally hold them in my arms.
Our next step is to wait for the transfer. We don’t know exactly when that will be, but we are both at peace with having to wait. We’ve actually gotten pretty good at it. I’ve realize this wait will give me an opportunity to focus on my job, my family, and my friends way more than I have for the past 22 months. For the longest time, I’ve had tunnel vision for infertility. I realize this journey that we are on is going to have an outcome that’s so much better than anything I could’ve ever imagined or planned for myself. This plan is going to allow Augie and I to finally have our time and when we do it’s going to be the sweetest moment of my entire life.