It finally happened.
The day that was my ultimate infertility nightmare.
The three letters that hit me like a train came up: IVF
Before we first met with the reproductive endocrinologist for our fertility struggle, I thought I was doing things right and decided to set limits. I said I would never do IVF. IVF wasn't for me. It wasn't for me until our last appointment.
I went into the appointment anxious. I was anxious because I knew the conversation I was going to have. Over two years of trying, endless doctor visits, and too many meds that gave me all the negative side effects, all lead to this conversation.
The no-nonsense, best chances, conversation I started was something that I didn't see myself doing. It made it feel like I was giving up. I wasn't.
I was tired. I am tired.
Tired of being sad and disappointed every month.
Tired of being in a dark place in my life.
We sat down and talked 100% facts on our chances. We were on meds and trigger shots with timed intercourse because our levels weren't good enough for IUI. She proceeded to tell us that because our levels were so off (aka bad) that the meds and trigger shots didn't give us much better chance.
IUI wasn't a good option until one level doubled and another level dropped half.
My heart sunk. My eyes stayed dry. This pain was too deep to bring up tears.
I wanted options.
The doctor gave me what she said would be our only realistic chance to conceive was through IVF.
In my head, I sarcastically remark that we're also realistically going bankrupt if we do IVF.
The cost of IVF is mind blowing: it's a straight gamble.
While I'm having this small pity party for myself, I go over in my head what I could've done in my life have avoided this situation.
There's nothing.
The question to go through with IVF or not is loaded with burdens: emotional and financial being the biggest.
I went into the appointment anxious. I was anxious because I knew the conversation I was going to have. Over two years of trying, endless doctor visits, and too many meds that gave me all the negative side effects, all lead to this conversation.
The no-nonsense, best chances, conversation I started was something that I didn't see myself doing. It made it feel like I was giving up. I wasn't.
I was tired. I am tired.
Tired of being sad and disappointed every month.
Tired of being in a dark place in my life.
We sat down and talked 100% facts on our chances. We were on meds and trigger shots with timed intercourse because our levels weren't good enough for IUI. She proceeded to tell us that because our levels were so off (aka bad) that the meds and trigger shots didn't give us much better chance.
IUI wasn't a good option until one level doubled and another level dropped half.
My heart sunk. My eyes stayed dry. This pain was too deep to bring up tears.
I wanted options.
The doctor gave me what she said would be our only realistic chance to conceive was through IVF.
In my head, I sarcastically remark that we're also realistically going bankrupt if we do IVF.
The cost of IVF is mind blowing: it's a straight gamble.
While I'm having this small pity party for myself, I go over in my head what I could've done in my life have avoided this situation.
There's nothing.
The question to go through with IVF or not is loaded with burdens: emotional and financial being the biggest.
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