Nope. That’s not at all what happened.
It’s been five years since our first miscarriage. February 2013.
It’s been a blessing to write about my journey. The communities of women I’ve come across have taught me a great deal about compassion. Not only compassion for myself, and others dealing with infertility, but for every person out in the world. I learned that at any given time, anyone you come in contact with could be dealing with something you can’t even imagine.
Last year when we sat with our fertility doctor and asked her if she thought we should try another round of IVF she said,
“I’m going to be straight with you, based on your history, you only have about a 10% chance of success, I think your money could be better spent on going another route.”
We had already tried two egg retrievals and three embryo transfers- with all the bells and whistles and PGS testing. Five rounds of meds. I knew my body was at a breaking point, and we were spent.
Her words lingered with us long and hard.
We loved our doctor, and one of the things we loved most about her is that she’s a no-nonsense, tell-you-like-it-is straight shooter.
But we couldn’t get it out of our minds to give it one last shot.
We knew what our odds were. There was no question about it. We had been through the wringer; we had done it all, multiple times. But if we were going to tap out, we had to make sure we didn’t have any regrets.
We meditated on all the options. We had long conversations and did hours of research. We sought advice from an infertility counselor.
But it all came down to this. We imagined ourselves 10 years from now, without children, sitting in an outdoor cafe late at night in Paris, getting drunk on red wine under the stars, and talking about where life had taken us. And we asked ourselves, would we regret not giving it one last try?
“We’re going to do another round”
It was clear. We were both all in. This was it. We knew the odds going in, and prepared ourselves, and our families.
It’s going to be hard, but this is our ‘no regrets final tour’. We went in with no expectations, just a commitment to being able to close the chapter.
We were finally at a place, after all these years, where we knew we’d be okay, no matter the outcome.
Our partnership was stronger than ever and our love could carry us through anything.
We agreed to take it one day at a time.
And here we are 7 months pregnant.
Our due date this April is fast approaching, but we are still taking it one day at a time.
We have been full of gratitude for every single day we’ve had so far.
This pregnancy hasn’t come without its fair share of complications, but with each hurdle we look at each other and say, “We are so lucky to even be having this problem”.
I am trying to take in and revel in every moment of my pregnancy. Knowing that it could be taken away from me at any moment, and knowing I will more likely than not, never have this opportunity again in my life.
With love and gratitude, thank you for being a part of my journey.