Multiple IVF Cycles, Multiple Miscarriage and then… Multiple Blessings

The happy results of Michelle’s difficult path.

I’ve known Michelle since the beginning of my own infertility struggle. We met on the TCYOF forum, and her positive spirit was my rock, especially during the dark 2010 holidays when we both were going through miscarriages. Dealing with premature leutinization, Hypothyroidism and male infertility issues as well, Michelle had the deck stacked against her, but survived the infertility treatment gamut with strength and humor.

This is Michelle’s story:

My husband and I were married in the fall of 2004. We knew we wanted to have a family, but decided to wait a bit. In 2006 we started “trying” on our own to no avail. There would be no “Big Fat Positive” (BFP) for us during that whole year of temping, timing sex and using ovulation predictors.

I was discouraged and we sought help from a Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE) that our friends had used in our area. The clinic is pretty well known and had a great success rate too. Our friends got pregnant after one In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) attempt, so that made me very hopeful for us.

After a year of seeing the RE we found out that I had hypothyroidism and premature leutinization. This is where my eggs drop before they are completely mature and if they aren’t mature, they will not fertilize properly. My husband also had some morphology issues and some antibodies in his sperm samples. Needless to say, we needed divine intervention! We tried 3 IUI’s and all were disappointing and unsuccessful!

In 2008 we started IVF, we did our first cycle and it was a chemical. It was my first BFP and I was so excited, only to have it end so quickly. It just made me more determined to have a baby. We did another fresh cycle even though we had 2 frozen embryos from our first cycle leftover. That cycle was okay, I only produced 9 eggs. I think 5 were mature and 4 fertilized, by day 3 we had only 2 that survived.  I thought all hope was lost, but we put them back and surprisingly I had another BFP!! I truly only takes one determined embryo to become a baby. My son was born in June 2009 and is a healthy and happy boy!

We tried again with a new fresh cycle in spring of 2011; I made my doctor change my protocol to Ganirelix because I felt that the lupron had over suppressed my ovaries resulting in a crappy amount of eggs.  She agreed and I went happily stimming a month later!! I think we got about 15 eggs and all of them were mature and they all had fertilized!! I felt so blessed! We did a 3 day transfer again (that’s how my office does it) and it was a “Big Fat Negative” (BFN). We had about 12 or so left  that were frozen on day 1, so we had several Frozen Embryo Transfer (FET) chances in our future.

We did 2 FET’s and both were blighted ovums and I miscarried. I was devastated to say the least. I thought my dear little boy would never have any siblings and that just killed me.  Thank goodness my niece is only 13 months younger than him, I truly thought he was going to be our one and only.

Low and behold, we had four embryos left and we had to defrost all four because we weren’t sure that any would survive just because we thought we had bad luck. They were graded so-so and I thought, well we will transfer three and see what happens. My RE reassured me she had much success in the past with embryos that didn’t have stellar grading and they were healthy children.

At the time of our transfer we only had two that were acceptable to transfer so I was ok with that, I was terrified of transferring three anyway! After my transfer the nurse said that they looked “really good” and all I could think was uh oh maybe I should have just transferred one!

I tried to be positive and think that it would work, but I was terrified that it wouldn’t.  I really wasn’t interested in doing another fresh cycle again; this was my “last hurrah.” On May 6^th I did a digital pregnancy test and it came up positive and I thought this is great, except now the added worry set in: would it be another blighted ovum or a true positive?

May 7^th I had my blood draw and I nearly fell over when she read my results to me. I know that an FET has a lower HCG rate and I was expecting around 60 or so.  Well my result was an astounding 831! I said, “Excuse me, did us say eight hundred and thirty one?” Yes, that’s what she said!! My coworkers were laughing and saying I was going to have twins. By the end of the week, my numbers were near 8,000 or so and I asked the nurse if she thought there was more than one and she said, “You are in deep doo-doo sister, you are going to need a minivan!” I was so grateful to be pregnant, but terrified at the thought of having multiples! A few days later I had my ultrasound which confirmed my fear of twins! Ha-ha!

I had an uneventful pregnancy and made it to 35 weeks and 2 days with my boy/girl twins when I developed pre-eclampsia and had to have an emergency c-section. I so wanted to make it to 38 weeks; both babies were in the NICU for 10 and 11 days and were 4 lb 10 oz and 5 lb 10 oz at birth.

Today I have two healthy, beautiful and pleasant babies.  I couldn’t have asked for better babies. Infertility sucks, but I am forever grateful to my doctor’s office for giving my beautiful children to me.

If you have any questions for Michelle, you can contact her via her Twitter account: @michrn119

First Time Lucky- An IVF Story

Tina with her IVF and FET babies 

When I found out that IVF was our only option, I wanted to hear as many stories as possible about those people who “got lucky” on their first try with IVF. In the end, I wasn’t one of the lucky ones myself, but Tina’s story shows that even with severe male factor infertility, and only 20 sperm collected from TESE surgery, there’s hope for “beginner’s luck” with IVF. 

This is Tina’s Story:

My husband and I live in New Zealand. We are both teachers and had always talked about wanting children. My husband wanted to start ASAP after meeting in 1997 but I wanted to do everything the right way. We traveled and lived in London for 6 years, got married in Las Vegas, returned to NZ and bought a house, got two dogs and started trying to conceive in 2005.

After a year or so nothing had happened and I had a feeling something was wrong. My husband had suffered with testicular cysts on a number of occasions so we went to a GP for tests. They all came back in the normal range so we carried on trying to conceive for another year. I took my temperature every morning, I did weekly acupuncture and basically tried every technique I had ever read about.

Finally I admitted defeat and made an appointment with a Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE). It was such a relief after all this time to hand it over to a professional. I had tried everything and we were exhausted.

We were not prepared for my husband’s first sperm analysis. There was almost no sperm found and they froze the sample and unfroze it again and found no sperm had survived freezing. We were told that IVF was our only option. Our RE said it was due to varioceles that my husband had had for many years which had now caused testicular failure. (In easy terms varioceles are like variocous veins in the testicles that cause the area to heat up and this kills off the tissue, meaning it is unable to produce sperm.)

We were told IVF with ICSI was our only option to have a baby but we needed to find sperm first. My husband took fortnightly samples, with a plan to freeze sperm as a backup in case no sperm could be found on the day of egg retrieval using TESE (Testicular Sperm Extraction). Unfortunately, no sperm was found frozen in those samples.

In New Zealand, we have an opportunity for up to two free government cycles of IVF if you meet certain factors eg. BMI, non smoking, severe Infertility, less than 40. So with a bit of weight loss and an 18 month wait-list we were ready to go.

My husband gave me my shots which included him in the process. He found it hard that after the Male Factor Infertility (MFI) diagnosis everything was then happening to me. The cycle brought us closer and we were finally ready for egg collection.

The first hurdle was to get sperm as we had not been able to freeze any as back up. We were brought in early so we had time to try and collect two fresh samples before they would operate on my husband to try and get some sperm from a biopsy. We were elated to get 20 sperm. (My husband had been on a supplement called Menovit which we believed helped.)

At egg collection, we got 12 eggs and 9 fertilized. All 9 were all grade one on day three. I had asked for a day three transfer, but my RE and embryologist convinced me to go to Day five. It was a nervous wait but we transferred one beautiful blast and froze 3 more.

I am a POAS-Holic, so at 6 days past my transfer I saw my first ever second line on a First Response test and I cried like a baby. I woke my husband up and we were so happy. During my time trying to conceive  I had joined many infertility groups online and in real life, and I knew that a BFP (big fat positive in infertility lingo) did not necessarily mean a take home baby, so I was extremely anxious. The beta confirmed the pregnancy and the repeat betas increased as they should.

I managed the anxiety by seeing the pregnancy as a list of hurdles. As we reached each one I looked just to the next. I chose a private OB that worked out of my RE’s office. This was amazing, because I had continuation of care, I could still see my nurses and I got reassurance scans at each visit. I had an anterior placenta so the kicks were harder to feel and i felt them later than most.

I had a sort of survivors guilt, as many of my fellow infertility sufferers were still trying for their take home baby and it had worked first time for us.

April 19, 2010 was the most amazing day of our lives when we welcomed our daughter by c-section due to her being transverse and because I had signs of pre eclampsia. She was everything we had dreamed about and everyday we felt blessed.

As part of our funding we had our blasts frozen for up to 18 months (we would take over storage costs after that) and every transfer would be paid for if we wanted to use them for an indefinite time-frame.
So when our daughter turned one we decided to do a frozen embryo transfer (FET).

Again we were blessed first time and found out we were having a boy. I had a hassle free pregnancy and had same obs who delivered my son by c-section on January the 6th 2012.

I feel incredibly lucky to have my gorgeous children but don’t feel completely done, so in 2014 we will go visit our RE again to see if we can be incredibly lucky and have a third child from one of the two blasts frozen back in 2009. Fingers crossed our luck holds out.

If you have any questions for Tina, you can contact her via her Twitter account: @paul_and_tina or at: http://about.me/tinalouisetaylor

Join the Movement: Drafted but Devoted

April 21-27^th is National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW). I never intended to join the infertility awareness movement, but like one in eight couples living with infertility, I was drafted. 

Still in the back of my closet- the bag of IVF needles we carried everywhere in our quest to become parents.

After two years trying to conceive “tho old-fashioned way,” we went to a specialist and found out that my husband has congenital absence of the vas deferens. (In simple terms- it’s like a built-in vasectomy- there’s no tubing for the sperm to get out.)

Once we got over the initial shock of our diagnosis, we broke the news to our family as optimistically as we could:

“So….we have some good news and some bad news… The good news is that we want to become parents. The bad news is that the only way for us to get pregnant is with In Vitro Fertilization (IVF).”

We explained the “birds and the bees” of IVF to our friends and families, determined to stay positive and show everyone that we weren’t ashamed of our infertility.

Our friends and families wanted to be supportive. But they didn’t always know what to say.

“…Well, you never know.. it could just happen when you just relax and aren’t expecting it,” my well-meaning mother said.

I tried to hide my exasperation.

“No, Mom.  Relaxing won’t get us pregnant. There is zero chance we will get pregnant without IVF. There’s absolutely no way of connecting the sperm to the eggs without help.”

And there were others who gave us sympathetic looks, saying with an air of superiority:

“Wow, going through all that to make a baby? I could never do that. There are so many kids in the world that need homes- I’d just adopt instead.”

Soon we stopped sharing what we were going through- even with our friends and family. After our first IVF cycle ended in a miscarriage, it was too hard to answer their curious and mostly well-meaning questions.

At the time, I didn’t know anyone who had gone through IVF. Struggling through the emotional, physical and financial hardships of infertility was a lonely road without others who understood. I began to blog, and finally found others online and on Twitter who knew exactly what I was going through.

These men and woman knew how to joke about eggs and sperm, about botched hormone injections in parking lots. They knew what to say after the heartbreak of miscarriage. They understood how the desire to have a baby can be a constant ache, a feeling of loss for something we’ve never had and may never have.

That fall there was an article in Self magazine about infertility. My little sister sent it to me along with a bag of Hershey Kisses and a note that said: “I can’t imaging what you are going through right now- but I hope you know I’m here for you.” 

I cried. Her words and the gesture was so sweet. But the article’s topic dismayed me: “Why our reluctance to talk about infertility keeps us from getting the care that we deserve.”   It’s true. While we are going through infertility, so many people don’t want to talk about it. If and when we are successful, many of us want to forget the struggle, as our lives are consumed by the children we worked so hard for. I promised myself that if I got through to the other side of infertility, I wouldn’t forget.

After three cycles of IVF and two miscarriages, after my backside became a perpetual pin-cushion from a billion injections, after our hope had dwindled to nothing and our bank account to match, our last cycle IVF cycle brought us a positive pregnancy test. Nine months later (and I still can’t believe it as I write it) our daughter was born.

To say she was worth it (and we say it all the time) doesn’t even begin to capture all the feelings I have about the journey that made me a mother.

It took me a while to find my way back to my blog. Just as the Self article warned, I was too overwhelmed with the joys and trials of motherhood for the first year of her life. But I knew I’d come back to help others on this path. I’ve started up my blog again to share stories of hope from the other side of infertility, to help others still finding their way.

A friend of mine who also has a baby from IVF asked me if I planned to tell my daughter about her origins. I was surprised.

Why wouldn’t I?

I want her to grow up knowing that infertility isn’t something to be ashamed of. That there are many ways to become a mother. And that no matter what happens in life, there are people out there- strangers even- who are willing to share their stories so that they might help others.

I was drafted to this movement, but I’m here in hopes that one day my daughter won’t need to raise awareness for this disease. I’m here in hopes that her generation will have access to the care and support and insurance coverage for infertility. Most of all, I’m here because no one should have to struggle with infertility alone.

To learn more about RESOLVE, National Infertility Awareness Week or Infertility in general, please visit:

• http://www.resolve.org/infertility101  (Basic understanding of the disease of infertility.)
• http://www.resolve.org/national-infertility-awareness-week/about.html (About NIAW)

A Pregnant “Surprise” After 8 Years

Worth the wait- 8 years later.

After 8 years trying to conceive, with a diagnosis of male infertility with low count and low morphology, Jenny’s story gives hope for happy surprises when all hope was lost.

I should note that despite wonderful stories like Jenny’s, I make a point to correct my friends if they suggest that “just relaxing” could be the cure for infertility. But sometimes, “luck can be a lady” after all. 

This is Jenny’s story:

My husband and I have been together for 10 years, and married for 8. Five months before we tied the knot, we decided to throw away the birth control pills. It felt so incredibly daring to do; particularly since I was 23 and he was 21 and we were both just graduating from school that fall.

We knew it might take a few months to get pregnant and we figured it was best to start early. Little did we know that it would take much more than just a few months.

First off, after stopping taking the pill (I had been on it for approximately two and a half years), I suddenly didn’t get a period for four months. I can’t even tell you how many pregnancy tests I took during that time, all of which were negative.

Month after month I didn’t get pregnant. We kept telling ourselves we just weren’t doing it at the right time, or that we weren’t having enough sex. We had absolutely no idea that there could possibly be something wrong, it never crossed our minds.

A year went by. I still wasn’t pregnant, not that we were really paying attention to ovulation or anything like that, which made it easy to make excuses.  Looking back, I marvel at how much we truly didn’t know about conception.

Sometime within the first two years of being off the pill, I went to see a couple different gynecologists. One wanted to put me back on the pill for three months to “regulate” me. I remember getting very upset with him and he nonchalantly said, “Oh honey, when we see you again in five months you’ll be pregnant.” I promptly burst into tears in the office and left.

I then called a second gyno at a different office for a different opinion. I had been reading up and wanted clomid. In going into that appointment, I was pretty forceful and told the doctor exactly what I wanted and basically told him if he didn’t help me I’d seek help elsewhere. He gave me the clomid.

We were so sure that this would be the answer to our problems. I remember taking ovulation tests and getting positives and thinking that this was totally it. How could we possibly fail? But each month provided to be failures.

I was an emotional wreck by this point. And we were reaching the age where our friends were starting their families, so we were constantly inundated with pregnancy announcements and then children’s birthday party invitations. It was depressing.

I remember in on particular instance a coworker announced her pregnancy to us and it caught me off guard. I literally cried for three days about it. My boss and coworkers knew I was a mess and while it was embarrassing, I couldn’t quite tamp down those horrific feelings of being a failure. Shouldn’t having a child be easy?

And in blissful ignorance, my husband and I kept coming up with excuses about why we weren’t getting pregnant. Finally, five or so years into being off the pill and still not achieving pregnancy, I decided it was time to seek a fertility doctor, which was probably the scariest thing ever. Because I was admitting we had a problem.

My cycles have always been irregular and because of that I was certain it was me. I’d done a lot of reading and was pretty sure I had PCOS. I convinced myself that my tubes were full of cysts and that was why I wasn’t getting pregnant.

We went in to do all of our testing, and much to my surprise, all of my test results came back flawless. In fact, my hormone levels and tubes were so perfect it was ridiculous.

And then one day in May the nurse called with my husband’s results. Not only was his sperm count low, but his morphology was .5%. So of the low count he had, only .5% of them were even shaped normally. I was in shock, and the nurse gently asked if my husband was taking any prescriptions that could possibly cause his count to be low. I told her no and then we hung up.

That night I told my husband about his results. He was silent. I remember spending a few days crying quietly to myself. I didn’t want to cry in front of him because I didn’t want him to feel like he was a failure, because even though he had been quiet about it, I knew he was upset and felt as though he had failed us.

We met with the doctor and he gave us a vitamin regime and told us he’d see us in three months. At that point, we were looking at options about what we wanted to do, and realized we had some saving to do if we wanted to have a child.

I’ll readily admit, I went through a long period of anger. Anger because something that so many people have happen so easily was going to cost us thousands of dollars. Anger at what life had handed us.

And I’ll also admit that it was at this point we wondered whether it was really worth it to become parents, particularly at what it would cost us, in stress and money. We put off doing any treatments or even doing a follow up appointment. We kept talking about saving up and trying again, and at one point about two years ago my husband excitedly said he wanted me to start tracking my ovulation so we could start trying again, because he had been taking the vitamins again and wanted to try.

I think that was when I hit rock bottom. Tiredly I told him that I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go through the work of trying, it was so much work to track my ovulation each month and sex wasn’t even fun anymore because it was just work. I’m sure I disappointed him but I was just so tired.

In January of 2012, 7 1/2 years after we decided to throw caution to the wind and try to have a baby, I made a resolution to take care of myself. I started eating healthy and going to the gym. In March I signed up for a personal trainer; a year’s contract with two sessions a month. In less than six months I dropped 25 lbs.

When my health insurance was open enrollment I only signed up for $300 on my flex card, because I was going to focus on myself instead of worrying about starting a family. The lady asked me if I wanted to do more in case of potential children and I looked her dead in the eye and told her my husband and I were infertile. She had no response to that.

In the beginning of June 2012, my sister and I had a heated argument about whether I was ever going to pursue treatment. She told me she was afraid I’d put it off too long and run out of time. I told her I wasn’t even sure we would ever have children and I was starting to be ok with that. I wanted to focus on myself.

It was then that I started having weird symptoms. Symptoms like suddenly napping for no reason in the afternoons, yet I was still sleeping 9 solid hours a night. Stuff like my allergies suddenly flaring up when they never do during the summer. And then it was the off and on sore breasts when normally when I’m about to start my period they are sore and then a week later I start.

On June 21, 2012, I randomly decided to take a pregnancy test. I was getting ready to go out of town with a friend for a book conference. I honestly don’t even know what made me decide to take a test. I hadn’t taken one in well over a year. I had just felt off and wanted to rule out pregnancy (like any other month) and move on with my life. I had even went to the store and had bought pads the day before in preparation.

Imagine my shock and disbelief when my test came back positive. In fact, I was so shocked I called my best friend to confirm two lines indeed meant a positive. I was a bawling mess when I called my husband to tell him the news. I ran out to the store to pick up digital tests because I needed to see the word “pregnant.” And lo and behold, when I took that test it came back pregnant.

After nearly 8 years of using no protection, and giving up all hope that I’d ever be surprised with a pregnancy, I was pregnant.

On February 10, 2013, I gave birth to our first child, a son. He is more than I could have ever hoped for. I feel so incredibly lucky and blessed to be given a child after all of our struggles.  I stare at him often in wonder and am amazed that we created him. And even though it took us almost 8 years to conceive our child, he was so very much worth the wait.

If you have any questions for Jenny, you can contact her via her Twitter account @jennablooms or on her blog: http://amongblossoms.blogspot.com/

On Hope, Coping and the Boston Marathon

My husband- always there for me- showing off my first marathon medal.

Today I was going to post Jenny’s story about her 8 year struggle with infertility, and her amazing happy ending. But with the news from Boston yesterday, I have to write what’s weighing on my heart right now.

Although I’ve lived on the west coast for almost a decade, Boston is home. I met my husband there, and have so many friends and family there- fortunately they are all ok.

The marathon is a sacred event to me. Ever since I was a little girl, I’d go to the Boston marathon with my uncle and watch the runners, inspiring in their strength and dedication, as I dreamed of one day running it myself.  Yet, after seven marathons, that qualifying time still eluded me.

My last marathon was in 2010, just weeks before I was scheduled for my first IVF cycle. That cycle ended in miscarriages, and for the next two years, I gave up running, along with what seemed to be all of life’s pleasures (alcohol, chocolate, coffee- and of course sex- since that’s off-limits with IVF.)

When it came time for my third IVF cycle- my last try- I comforted myself with the thought that if it failed, I’d do whatever it took to qualify for Boston that year. We had a positive pregnancy test- and then to my disbelief (even today I can’t believe it) our daughter arrived nine months later.

Had I qualified that year, I would have been running the marathon yesterday. I likely would have been finishing just around the time that the bomb went off. My husband, my sister, my family and friends would have been at the finish line for me. It chills me to think of it.

Once upon a time, (in my pre-infertility days) I blithely believed that “everything happens for a reason.” Now I know better. Sometimes good things happen- and sometimes bad things happen to good people- for no reason at all. I was incredibly lucky that my third IVF worked, and I’m fortunate that I wasn’t in the wrong place at the wrong time yesterday. But others are still waiting to complete their families  and  some families’ loved ones are gone forever. It’s unbelievably heartbreaking. And there’s no good reason for it.

All we can do is to make something good (as best we can) from something bad. In the case of Boston and the other events we’ve had to bear recently, these terrible things can be the motivation to give an extra hug, a kind word to a stranger, to help someone in need.

In the wise words of Mr. Fred Rogers: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” To this day, especially in times of “disaster,” I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.“

During dark times in our lives, whatever the circumstance, we need to remember to look for the helpers. And sometimes step up to be the helper. 

Sending love to you all.

Tubeless But Tough

Jaclyn and Marc

After an ectopic pregnancy rendered her falopian tubes useless for baby-making, Jaclyn was told her only option was Invitro Fertilization (IVF.) Her doctors advised a frozen embryo transfer (FET).   

Here is Jaclyn’s story:

About 3 years ago, my husband and I got a BFP (big fat positive) on a pee stick.  I was in pure bliss, because we were so surprised on how quickly we got pregnant after stopping birth control pills.  Then one morning in November (November 20th to be exact) I woke up with awful pains in my abdominal area and was very scared.  I called the doctor’s office and had an appointment with my OB, and that is where our story begins.

I went into the OB’s office and there she pulled out an u/s machine, my brain was racing with excited thoughts, thinking, wow I get to see my lil babe!  BUT my whole entire world crashed when my OB told me that she didn’t see a heartbeat and she saw something in my Fallopian tube.  I was sent downstairs to the X-ray lab where they have more advanced U/S machines to have the doctors take a better look.  I also was sent to get my blood drawn for a beta to see what my numbers were.  I remember crying hysterically and having the best lab tech comfort me.  I still see him today, and he is the sweetest guy. I think the phlebotomist all thought I was scared of getting my blood drawn, because they were so sweet to me and so gentle.  As I slowly walked over to the X-ray lab, the tears just didn’t stop.  A few ladies in the waiting room gave me a sincere look of “oh honey I’m so sorry”  which I didn’t think about until way later, but the X-ray lab is also where they do mammograms.  After seeing the u/s tech and the doctor, it was confirmed, ectopic pregnancy.  So many things were running through my head like, 1) why me? what did I do to deserve this? 2) what is going on? what do I do next? 3) can I save this pregnancy? I can endure pain….

My husband waiting and waiting at work for me to call him came running over to the hospital when I texted him the news,… we waited upstairs in the OB waiting room to talk to my doctor, and all I could do was cry.

Once we saw my OB, she talked to us, told us all the information that we needed and answered our questions as much as she could, then she told us she had to send us to the ER for me to get a methytrexate shot to terminate the pregnancy and strict instructions about getting more blood work done to ensure that the pregnancy was over.

We waited for what felt like an eternity in the ER waiting room… just waiting waiting waiting.. finally got called in.  The needle was huge and all I could think of was I can’t believe this is happening to me.  The doctor was very sweet, she gave me the shot, a huge hug and let us go home.

My husband and I drove home, I called my best friend on the phone and all I could do was cry.  I have no idea how she understood what i was saying but she comforted me in a way that no one else could.  She just sat there and let me cry on the phone.  My husband made a quick stop to taco bell for dinner (how I remember that, I have no idea?)  When I got home, I took a shower and just crawled into bed, thinking I never want to leave this bed.

A few days later I went back to the hospital to get my beta done, to make sure that the pregnancy was gone.  I walked in, got my blood drawn, and then went home.  Waiting for the blood results felt like an eternity.  I remember checking my phone every few minutes.  I just wanted this nightmare to end so I could try to move on with my life.

BUT as life would have it, my OB called and told me that my beta numbers were still very high and that I would need to go into the ER again for another methytrexate shot.  This was very uncommon, for someone to have to get the shot done twice, but as luck would have it, that was what we had to do… and guess what day this was? The day before thanksgiving.  So much fun for me, right?  That night the ER was extremely packed, and the OB on call knew I wouldn’t want to sit there all night long, she called me in, and had me meet her in the bathroom, where she had me lean over the toilet and then give me my shot.

The next day was Thanksgiving and I was cooking for my family, my mother in law and brother in law came over the night before and spent the night.  I think my brother-in-law had no words to say to me, I cried so much that night.. I had a collection of hospital bracelets on me… I was just a mess.

I successfully made Thanksgiving dinner for everyone and kept myself busy.  It was the worst Thanksgiving of my life.  I was just going through the motions, I really didn’t think much about anything and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and die.

The rest of the year was a blur, as I was just getting through life, going on with work and trying to figure out the best possibility for my husband and I.

The next year rolled by (2010) and it was April.  My husband and I didn’t get pregnant after the ectopic, so we were scheduled to go in for a U/S to see what was going on with my Fallopian tubes and my ovaries.  Well… lucky me, I was told that my Fallopian tubes looked blocked and that I needed to see a surgeon.  Having never had surgery before, I was so frightened.  I had no idea what to think, what to say, or what to do.  All I have to say, is thank goodness for my sister who was there to hold my hand and support me no matter what.  Even though she had no idea what was really going on in my head, she was there for me.

So May rolled around, and we had an appointment with the surgeon, who was very nice and coincidentally worked under my husband’s then boss at the same company (what a small world)  He explained the surgery, what he was going to do and promised that if he could, he would save my tubes.  He said that he wouldn’t really know what to do until he was inside and saw everything but said that i was in good hands.  I felt like I could trust him and from that moment, I felt a little better.

June rolled around and surgery day came around.  My blood pressure was up the roof, I was crying talking to the nurses when they asked me what procedure I was there for.  I just remember my husband holding my hand as they walked me away towards the surgery room.  When I woke up six hours later, my first thought was “is it over?” “Is it done?” “What is going on?”  The kind nurses saw me waking up and came to me, talking to me and asking me how I felt.  I was extremely overwhelmed with different emotions, especially since i had no clue what had happened.  Finally, they called my husband in and the surgeon came in to talk to us.

So we were told that he had to remove my right fallopian tube and that he cleaned up my left one as much as he could and he believes that it would be fully functional but still suggested that we visit his colleague, the RE doctor in the same office.

We went, we chatted and we got information from the RE doctor, we left so overwhelmed with information and emotions.  It was CRAZY.  I was told to go in for a HSG to make sure that my left tube was still OK.

HSG, no fun! It HURT LIKE HELL… having a tube that became blocked again does not feel good when they are pushing dye into it…. I wanted to cry.

So.. as was my luck, my left tube was blocked and there was NO chance I would ever get pregnant on my own.  Those words are the hardest to swallow, how do you accept that what your body is supposed to do, won’t do.  I felt so broken.  I cried,.. cried and cried.  I felt so broken, I felt less of a woman.  It was ridiculous.  My husband and I fought a lot, about IVF, the cost, the success rate, and the idea of going through this.  My husband wanted to wait, I wanted to do it right away.. I wanted my baby in my arms so badly!  I didn’t care about how much it would take, I just wanted to start something that would be towards getting my baby.

The RE scheduled an appointment with an OB who specializes in what is called the essure procedure.  This is where they stick a metal rod into your fallopian tube, which is where the scar tissue can form and which will block the tube completely.  The hardest part of the surgery, was reading all the pamphlets, the procedure is really used as a method of permanent birth control. All the pamphlets read “are you ready to live child-free?”  There were stories about moms who had enough children and didn’t want to risk an accidental pregnancy.  I had nurses asking my age and questioning my choice, without reading my chart.. made me an emotional train wreck.

Surgery over, a week passes by.. and guess what’s next?… another HSG to ensure the essure worked,  The doctor explained that I wouldn’t have anything to worry about, as the procedure was 99.89% effective.  HAHA to that!  My body didn’t take to the essure.  Lucky me.

The RE was nice, she said we could do a FET instead of a fresh cycle to ensure another ectopic wouldn’t happen.

February rolled around and we started our IVF cycle, it was the scariest thing I have ever done.  Looking back at it now, I am very happy that I didn’t question anyone at the doctor’s office, and just kind of followed what they told me to do.  I didn’t interview different RE, and I didn’t search online for her success rate.  Those things really didn’t occur to me until WAY later, when it was too late.  I am very happy that my surgeon pushed me to my RE, her staff was very sweet, and she was very kind and gentle.  I felt like she really wanted to get me pregnant.  It made me feel more secure.

So off we were starting shots, following the IVF calendar, and going to morning monitor appointments.  I used to be scared of shots, and never looked when the doctor gave me any, but all of a sudden, there I was giving myself injections in my car, at work, in the kitchen, everywhere.  It was like I became a different person.

Monitoring was going great, follicles were growing, and then we had a ER date set.

Morning of the ER, I was giddy, I had my clothes all laid out, my valium in my pocket and we were ready to go.  After they wheeled me away, Dh was sent into a room to give his sample.  Woke up and found out that we had 8 eggs!! YAY  And that we would get a fertilization report the next morning.  Went home, and napped, I was exhausted!

Next morning, found out all 8 of the eggs were fertilized and were all going to be frozen  Awesome!

April rolled around, and we started our FET.  It was so exciting and scary at the same time.  There was less monitoring and less shots, until we started the OH SO FUN PIO shot.  I could never get myself to do my own, so I always had to get DH to do it for me.  I told him just do it, don’t tell me when or I might flex.  But, he became a pro at it, he did it when we were out and about, even on the 13th hole of a golf course.  We were watched by the golf ranger, I think he thought my DH and i were up to no good.. haha

April 15th came and we had our FET  I was nervous, excited, just a bunch of emotions.  My DH sat in the “husband” chair next to me as we watched the embyros being put into my body.  I must say it was pretty amazing…. then it was the start of the dreaded 2 week wait.

I must say, I was pretty spoiled, DH let me sit around the house on the couch and watch girly movies for a week before I had to return back to work.  I stuck a post it on my bathroom mirror (which is still there today) that reads “BFP #teamhope.  I got that mantra from a bunch of my twitter friends.  I must say, I don’t think I could have gotten through any of this without them. Everyone on twitter was so supportive, was so caring and so kind.

The last week went by super slow.. then came the morning of my beta blood draw.  I woke up super early, got to the hospital before the lab was open, pulled a number and waited.  I got my blood drawn, went to work, and waited… I kept texting my husband “test” “does my phone work” just to make sure I had service.

THEN THE PHONE RANG… my heart skipped a beat, I stopped breathing.. and then the nurse told me that I was pregnant!! My beta was 92!! I was in shock, pure joy, i had no idea what to feel.. I was so excited.  I called my husband, I called my sister and I called my best friend.. we all squealed in excitement.  After work I ran off to target to purchase a digital pregnancy test.. just to see the words  PREGNANT.

Then the next 2 days were slow as I waited to get my 2nd beta done.. but alas… 226 I was so excited!! I don’t really remember what I did or how I was able to finish the rest of my day at work, but I somehow managed to get home and sleep that night.

4 weeks later, we saw my RE again and saw the amazing heart beat or our lil’ miracle for the first time.  It was such a bumpy journey, but here we were looking at this amazing lil’ flicker on the screen!  Both my husband and I were in disbelief! After all the bad luck we had the previous year, it was finally our turn for some fabulous news! A baby!!

Today I have an amazing lil’ miracle who I never take for granted.  I look at him when he sleeps and just thank all the guardian angels and all the powers above for this miracle.  He is my everything, my entire world.  I can honestly say that the day he was born, was the day my heart healed.  Even though my husband was always there to hold my hand, my sister was there to support me, and my best friend was there to listen to me cry, I always felt that a huge piece of my heart was missing.  My lil’ miracle makes everything better.  He is already 15 months old, and I cherish everyday.

As for trying IVF for a second child, it is not 100% out of the cards for us. But my husband and I are not sure we can go through all the emotional pain and suffering if it doesn’t work.  We were blessed to have our lil’ miracle on the first try of IVF, he is our warrior….

If you have any questions for Jaclyn, you can contact her via her Twitter account @sassyNtubelss or on her blog: http://www.lilmsadventures.blogspot.com/

“Infertility Twin” Connection

The view from my fertility clinic- on a gray day in December 2011- just before my second miscarriage and my third IVF cycle.

When I was about to embark on my first IVF cycle, I was on a quest to find my “Infertility Twin-”  the woman who was once just like me (same age, same diagnosis, same fertility stats) – but now had a baby.

After my first miscarriage, and especially after my second, the need to find others who had been there and survived to tell the tale was even more urgent. I must have read hundreds of old blogs, going backwards trying to piece together their stories, looking for answers that might give me hope for my own story.

Now that I have my own happy ending- (although I still have secondary infertility to look forward to) I want to help others find  hope. Not every story ends with a baby or pregnancy- and I know that sometimes “hope” can be cruel- but if nothing else, I’ve always found comfort in hearing from others who have been there too.

The stories I share here will be categorized to make it easy to find your “Infertile Twin,” and will include writers’ contact information when possible so you can ask questions and get support from your own “Infertile Mentor.”

This week I’ll share stories from Jacyln (@sassyNtubelss) and Jenny (@JennaBlooms). Please let me know if you are willing to share your story and connect with your “Infertility Twin.”

As I eventually find the courage to try the last two frozen embryos from my doomed first IVF cycle, I’ll be looking for my twin as well: Seeking that mythical person who had a successful pregnancy from the last two frozen embryos of an IVF cycle that ended in miscarriage for both the fresh and following frozen cycles. Hope, anyone?