I’m just so sad and mad tonight; please forgive my typos and the fact that this is not a pretty post.
Here’s the thing: I’m a public relations professional by trade so I typically can convince even myself of a positive spin. It’s not as if I lie or even twist the truth (I’m an honorable PR person, I promise), but I understand that so much of life is how you look at it. My job is to paint the pretty picture, and gloss over negatives if need be. I’m pretty good at it. And that’s what I’ve been doing with my life too.
But tonight, I can’t even come up with a peppier headline for this blog.
Some of you know my daily, ever- hopeful “Positive IVF Thought of the Day” on Twitter, cheer-leading my friends dealing with infertility, my blog posts all wrapped up with an upbeat ribbon: I do it to help others- but to be honest, I also do it to get through what’s been the hardest time of my life so far.
And it’s worked. After two miscarriages, I wasn’t sure I had the energy or courage to go back for a third round of IVF, but I’ve found strength in all of you dear friends, and in my own determination to look through the rosy view.
But tonight I got news that has shaken my core. Even after my miscarriages, I still felt a tiny glimmer of hope in my heartbreak because I knew I could try again. Now with the results of my Day 3 test, my options are narrowing quickly and the reality that Mr. T and I may never have a child- or be able to afford the chance to try again- is beyond my PR happy spin talents.
Just to catch you up on why I’m at this point: A year ago we found out that due to Mr. T’s missing tubing (congential abscence of the vas deference), a condition caused by a rare gene for Cystic Fibrosis, our only option to concieve was IVF.
Trying to put his own positive spin on it, the urologist told us: “I see no reason why you shouldn’t be able to have children with IVF.” Of course this was devestating to hear, and I remember thinking that he was jinxing us by being so confident.
I was “young” only 33, and everyone said we had great odds that IVF would work for us. My tests were all normal, only my FSH was slightly high at 10. Despite our great odds, Mr. T and I decided to sign up for a “shared risk program” that included 3 fresh and 3 frozen IVF cycles, with a 70% money back guarantee if we didn’t get our “take home baby.” Mr. T and I are not gamblers.
Of course they took us. We looked like a safe bet.
We had a perfect cycle, 11 perfect eggs, A++ embryos all making it to day 5 and hatching even before transfer. When we got pregnant at that first try, we were thrilled, and didn’t mind that we had just paid twice as much as we needed to.
I picture the IVF Program Fund Mangers rubbing their hands in glee, getting such a great profit off us. I didn’t mind then. But now, after two miscarriages, the number crunchers are apparently having doubts about their investment. They requested that I get my FSH tested again.
Full of misgiving, especially due my crazy post-miscarriage cycles, I went for the test yesterday.
I missed the nurse coordinator’s call tonight so she left a message. As soon as I heard her voice, I knew from experience that it was the “sorry, I have bad news that’s going to ruin your night- if not your life-” voice:
“Hi, Jess….so.. we got the results back from your day three test……(long sad pause)………and your FSH has gone up. We aren’t going to submit these numbers to the program because they would likely drop you. So, we should test again in a month and see if they are any better. Call me back, but as I said……(long sad pause again to emphasize the point AGAIN)……we aren’t going to submit these numbers because they will drop you. Call me if you have any questions. Have a good night!”
I held it together until I got home and then crumbled in Mr. T’s arms. Like the man he is, he tried his best to fix it. But I know that unless I can find a magic FSH lowering pill, it’s likely we’ll get booted from the program now that we don’t like such an attractive bet.
And after going through all the loss of two IVF cycles ending in miscarriages, I can’t handle any more rejection.
I’m just so ANGRY. It’s not fair that that because my husband was born with missing tubes, that my eggs aren’t as young as they once were, that we have to pay tens of thousands of dollars for the chance to have what some people get without trying- or even wanting.
I was prepared to let the dream of having our own baby go after 3 fresh and 3 frozen cycles. I couldn’t even imaging wanting to go through all the injections and procedures for three cycles when I signed up. But now, I just want my fair try. And I don’t want someone to give up on me before I’m ready to give up myself.
I can’t give up yet. PLEASE don’t give up on me, Company That I Won’t Name. I know you look at me like a risk vs. reward number on your spreadsheet, but I’m very much a real person, and I’d make a wonderful mother.
Now I’m going to go cry myself to sleep. I’m going to have to dig very deep for my positive thought tomorrow. Nothing left tonight.
Thanks for reading, and for letting me vent, friends.
*Note: since this company doesn’t yet know about my test results, I’m not revealing their name- yet.