It took me a while to convince myself to write this. Why? Because I’ve been all the way in my feels about a failed round of IVF last fall.

In the beginning, I gladly welcomed all of the positive hopes and thoughts of success. I closed my eyes often and visualized my growing bump and the flutter kicks I’d soon begin to feel. I spoke our baby’s existence into mine and my wife’s world and not once did I plan anything short of congratulations for our growing family.

However, mine is not a success story. Like many other women, I was not in the “first time transfer success” story community. This journey mostly taught me that IVF SUCKS and that it brings so much more heartache, stress, physical discomfort and disappointment than it does any sort of hope or joy. I also learned that when it comes to hopeful outcomes, it was my sole responsibility to find ways to keep that hope alive within myself, because the grueling process of IVF most certainly killed the vibe.

Idk, maybe I’m the only one who feels this way? 

I doubt it, and that’s why I decided to write this blog!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a total debbie-downer, but I AM much more privy to my unrealistic honeymoon-esque expectations when it comes to the outcomes of IVF.

SO, without further adieu, here’s the story of my IVF tragedy (OK maybe that’s a bit overdramatic…but is it really?)

After nearly 3 long years of unsuccessfully trying to conceive, my wife and I decided to finally give IVF a try. Even typing “IVF” feels intimidating.

Full disclosure: Because of the incredibly private decisions we’ve had to make, I’m not going to get into all of the nitty gritty of our IVF process and am going to skip to straight to the embryo transfer process.

By the time we were ready to begin prepping my body for the embryo transfer, we had two embryos “on ice” and were naively 1000% sure that in short time I would be the big “P”! After weighing options with our Dr., we decided that transferring both embryos at the same time was the best choice.

I began a regimen of birth control pills to regulate my ovulatory cycle. Can I just say how much I DISLIKED the BC pills? OMG! Hot flashes, cravings and bloating OH MY!

After 3 weeks of BC pills, I transitioned to a regimen of estrogen pills (Estradiol) and Leuprolide stomach injections. Thankfully most of the horrible BC side effects subsided and I began to feel physical and emotional relief. I also began acupuncture once a week, which was SUPER relaxing! I was very diligent about taking my daily prenatal vitamin/CoQ10/Omega-3 and Vitamin E cocktail and overall felt really good about the way that I was taking care of myself!

Within the short timespan of preparing for my transfer, I had several “monitoring” appointments to check the lining and position of my uterus and make sure that my oven was ready to do some serious baking!

Each appointment went really well, lining was thickening beautifully, uterus was in prime position…its beauty was just begging for an embryo to grow inside of it!

So, although everything was going really well and looked fantastic on the inside, I began to start to feel pretty gross. At this point I had stopped the Leuprolide injections and started the infamous “if they don’t kill you they’ll make you stronger” progesterone butt injections. I was feeling foggy headed and really sluggish, began packing on the pounds and was retaining an insane amount of water. Everything just began to feel really off.

I joined a few online forums and Facebook groups for moral support and found that I was not alone in the symptoms I was experiencing. Yet still, I was definitely not prepared to feel like shit the entire time leading up to my transfer.

In the back of my mind, I kept wondering if my Thyroid medication was working efficiently or not so I started doing some research…I AM the Google queen after all! And I discovered that the estrogen levels from the BC pills and Estradiol pills were not meshing well with my Synthroid.

Thankfully I had an upcoming appointment with my Endocrinologist on the books. I had my Thyroid labs taken a few days before my appointment and low and behold my levels were OFF THE CHARTS! My levels were really high, which meant that…dun du du daaaaaa! Google was right lol

I was pretty nervous at my appointment. And I was fully anticipating my Dr telling me that I couldn’t continue on the IVF meds, which would mean my journey was over and subsequently mean that I was about to have a night full of tears, anger, disappointment and lots of self pity.

But my Dr wasn’t at all discouraging…in fact, he told me that with over 30 years of treating women who are trying to conceive, and pregnant women, fluctuations are normal and my levels would not prevent me from having a successful embryo transfer. He reassured me and revitalized my hope with a pregnancy action plan and I left feeling so much better than when I arrived. YAY! No self-pity needed 🙂

Fast forward to transfer day: My butt cheeks hurt so much from the progesterone injections that I could hardly sit down, the pounds had continued to pack on (25 pounds to be exact! ugh…these are going to take a LONG time to get off), I was mentally calm thanks to frequent acupuncture and I had actually begun to dislike the taste of pineapple from eating it so much. I put my “Good Vibes Only” shirt and lucky embryo transfer socks 0n and off we went to the fertility clinic for my transfer procedure. I was ordered to drink an insane amount of water…AND to hold it, several hours before my appointment. That sucked.

We waited a short amount of time before being called back to the transfer waiting area. I was given one of those thin, itchy hospital robes to wear and told to absolutely NOT pee at all, and that I’d be called back to the procedure room shortly. Well, I did pee…a couple of times…and still had plenty left in my reserve when they finally called me back.

The embryo transfer itself was very fast. I hiked my legs up on the stirrups, was given the “grades” of each embryo (a letter grade is assigned to each embryo that represents it quality and stage of maturation)…mine were mid-grade which was disappointing, but according to my Dr still had a good chance of implantation. I watched the long catheter that held the embryos in it, be inserted into my uterus on a small tv screen beside me. Then, I saw a quick little white cluster “flash” in the middle of the screen…kind of like a falling star, and was told that those were my embabies!

My Dr. wished me luck, told me to act like I was pregnant until proven otherwise (PUPO: a fun IVF acronym for ya) and said “the good embryos stick, the bad ones don’t, so don’t stress too much about what you do over the next couple of weeks.”

And then it was over. It was surprisingly uneventful and underwhelming.

We headed home, I relaxed and took the rest of the day off and fully envisioned the embryos that were soon to attach to my uterine wall and begin to grow.

And the dreaded two week wait began. This is the time from transfer day to anticipated onset of period, when pregnancy actually happens after the embryo implants into the uterine wall and grows. At the end of the two week wait, is the moment of truth…you’re either pregnant or you’re not.

During my two week wait I rested a lot, continued acupuncture and received fertility massage. I welcomed my nightly butt injections because I knew that they were keeping my pregnancy sustainable. I ate lots of pineapple, drank pomegranate juice daily, guzzled down my vitamin/supplement cocktail each evening, meditated, stretched and called my embabies by their names.

I checked my daily IVF transfer forums and became obsessed with the “First Time Transfer Success” groups on Reddit. I just KNEW I was pregnant, and with twins at that! I began flooding my Amazon cart with baby gear, toys, cute outfits and supplies…everything x2!

My wife and I had conversations about when to tell our friends and family members, how we’d reveal the exciting news to our daughters,(it was definitely going to be a creative reveal on Christmas day!), and how fun a maternity photo shoot would be (which I had already picked a fabulous dress for by the way).

As we basked in our excitement and unsubstantiated success, “the” day crept closer and closer. The two week wait was over and it literally flew by!

On the morning of my scheduled Beta, (this is what they call the blood test to determine pregnancy), my wife and I woke up anticipating receiving the best news we’d had received in 3 years! We were SO excited for confirmation that our babies were on the way and our countdown to “D” day (delivery day!) could begin.

We arrived at the fertility clinic, I got my labs drawn in a jiffy, and we went about our day.

THAT WAS THE LONGEST 8 HOUR WAIT I’VE EVER EXPERIENCED!

I just know my eyes burned a hole in my apple watch from glaring at the time so intently all day, waiting for THE call!

At 3:30 that afternoon, a nurse called me with the news…”I’m sorry but your pregnancy test from this morning is negative and your transfer was not successful. You can stop your medications immediately and expect a period within the next few days. Just a heads up that it might be heavier and crampier than usual because of all of the medications you’ve been on. Let us know if you’d like to begin another cycle or schedule a follow up with the Dr.” She apologized again and hung up.

The silence.

I was SHOCKED.

TO.THE.CORE.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

How did my transfer NOT work?

How did not one, but TWO embryos NOT implant?!

I did ALL the things! The acupuncture, the pineapple core, the juice, the vitamin/supplement cocktail, the relaxation, the fertility massage, the manifestation….ALL.THE.THINGS!

This is BULLSHIT!

And this HURTS!

SO many emotions and thoughts immediately flooded my head and my heart literally hurt…actually it didn’t hurt, it fluttered and itched…except it was an itch that couldn’t be scratched. An itch in the form of devastation and suffocating sadness.

How was I going to tell my wife?

How was I going to accept this?

WHY DIDN’T THIS FUCKING WORK?!

My hope dissolved instantaneously.

Tears flowed from my eyes like the floodgates of a dam just opened.

I didn’t understand.

I still don’t understand. I mean, I do but I don’t.

I understand the science and that there’s no guarantee that everything will line up in the proper scientific order necessary for ANY IVF procedure to be successful.

But my heart doesn’t understand.

And here I am, a couple of short but very long months later, writing this today in all of my vulnerable glory!

There are a lot of things I’ve hated about this process. I hate that the road has been this long, this unfair and this hard. I hate that no matter how hard I prepped my body for this, it still couldn’t execute what it needed to, to succeed. I hate that I had to stick my body with painful needles for months just for a “maybe”. I hate that I gained 25 pounds, without so much as a sonogram to show for it. I hate that I loved those embabies SO MUCH so soon. And I hate that now I’m heartbroken for this loss…and YES this IS loss. I hate that I’m grieving another disappointing month of hearing “sorry, not this time”. And I really truly do hate IVF…not for the opportunities that it gives couples and women like my wife and I to try and grow our family…but I hate it for the fact that it simply CANNOT promise me success, it CANNOT promise me a baby to hold in the end and this is the most clinically advanced option that we have…there’s nothing that’ll work better for us than IVF at this point.

However, all that to say, there are also a lot of things that I’ve loved about the process. (Surprise! lol) I’ve loved the moments leading up to transfer day that bonded my wife and I closer together than ever. I love the days that I was able to assume that I really WAS…FINALLY…pregnant :) And I love that in those moments, I truly believed it and was truly happy. I love that through the turbulence of medications and nausea and weight gain and bloat, I learned more about my body that I needed to, and I love that I know how to better nurture it now. I love the passion and excitement that my wife and I shared/share in this and I love how much we desire to be parents together.

And finally, I love that despite all of the above, the high highs and the low lows, I’m ready to do it all over again…even if just for a “maybe”.

If you’re here, reading my story, thank you. And for all of the IVF mama’s out there…may your losses, disappointments and hurts through the process be your fire and motivation to not give up on what your heart truly wants.

To be continued…