It was around this time last year that I had learned my first IVF had failed and I was reeling with loss, disappointment and sadness. I had thought that taking the leap from IUI to IVF would be a cure-all and would bring us success. I was not prepared for this type of failure. I can recall every feeling of the days between egg retrieval and embryo transfer vividly.
I shelled out thousands of dollars for all the drugs, followed the protocols but there were only two follicles that showed on ultrasound. Just two. Well, two is better than the one I would normally produce...at least that's what I told myself in order to hold it together. In recovery after the egg retrival, I asked how many eggs were retrieved. My DH looked at me and said, one. One. All of that for one measly egg that I could have produced on my own. I started crying right there in recovery with my DH and the nurse trying to comfort me. The RE who did the procedure (not my normal RE) saw me crying and I apologized to her and thanked her for getting the one. Most people doing IVF have anywhere between 6-20 eggs retrieved. I had one.
That one little egg had to make it through so much over the next few days. It had to fertilize. Which it did with ICSI (inject sperm directly into egg). It had to live for 3 days and divide and grow. It couldn't arrest, it couldn't fragment, it had to thrive in the culture it was growing in. I remember going through the motions at work in a trance, chained to my cell phone. A friend at work knew what was going on but everytime she stopped by my desk I burst into tears. I couldn't even talk to her. Was I going to have a transfer date set, or was the one embryo that all our hopes and dreams were pinned to going to die. I felt like a jury was deciding my fate, I couldn't eat or sleep, couldn't work, it was awful.
Transfer date was set, and it was an absolutely perfect looking 8 cell embryo. We fell in love instantly. This was our DNA, this was our child. We sang songs to it over the next 2 weeks, we talked to it, we had dreams of our child. Then we got the BFN. I was devastated. If after 4 clomids and 5 IUIs this didn't work, what would? Would anything?
It wasn't until after the 2nd IVF failed and I was heading towards depression that I finally created a little infertility album to commemorate and grieve each lost embryo, each lost possibility of our child. Here are the first two pages of that album.
Infertility Album
Through years of unsuccessfully trying to have a baby, we’ve realized just how precious each chance is at making a new life. Our journey has been long, filled with researching medical articles, doctor appointments, counting the calendar, medications, injections, hope, continual disappointment…and it’s not over yet.
The journey started with six months of trying naturally before four cycles of Clomid, 5 IUIs, and now onto IVF. IVF provides a unique look, and a physical snapshot, of each tiny 6-8 cell embryo that is placed back into my body. A special piece of our combined DNA that had the odds against it from the start, was given a chance at life, but unfortunately didn’t make it. Holding each picture of the beginning of our child, allows some form of attachment to begin even during the torturous two week wait to find out if the pregnancy test is positive. The picture that you think will be the amazing first page of your child’s baby album, but never is. A loss through IVF is felt so much more painfully and completely than a natural or IUI cycle.
This album provides a chance to grieve, let go, and say good-bye to each child that will never be. We love you.IVF Cycle #1
Started on January 21, 2008
Egg Retrieval on February 3, 2008
Embryo Transfer on February 6, 2008
Negative Pregnancy test on February 22, 2008
Only one egg was retrieved and fertilized with ICSI. Our combined DNA grew into a perfect 8 cell embryo that was transferred back to me. We had so much hope that having finally moved onto IVF, we would get the positive test result we were looking for. Unfortunately, that did not happen. During the two week wait, this was the song we sang to you:
Come on little embryo. Doodee, doodee, doo-dee-do.
Go ahead implant yourself. Doodee, doodee, doo-dee-do.
Come on little embryo. Doodee, doodee, doo-dee-do.
We’ll take good care of you. Doodee, doodee, doo-dee-do.
Good-bye, we love you.
