Another holiday crying over what could have been (Jackie’s story)
"We were told to be 'cautiously optimistic,' but deep down I knew.
My husband and I met very young in college, and married young at 25 and 26, so starting a family wasn’t on my radar until years into our marriage. I found myself at 29 working a job that completely exhausted me, while also finding the spark in myself to start a family. So, I thought “f**k it, I’m going to quit, and I’ll just get pregnant”. Until we got hit with the rude awakening that it wasn’t going to be that easy for us.
Six months into trying to conceive with only negatives to show for it, my OB/GYN ran all the tests she could but found nothing wrong. Another six months passed, and we moved on to a fertility clinic. Since all the tests so far were normal, we decided to try IUI first. We tried twice, and both failed. The reality that I would have to do IVF hit me hard, and I felt like I wasted so much time trying with IUIs. I was mad at myself and the world that this was now my reality.
I was mad at myself and the world that this was now my reality.
My retrieval went great, and we got great numbers and grades of embryos. Now onto the FET. I decided, since we hadn’t uncovered anything yet and hadn’t had any success with TTC, that we might as well do a full medicated cycle. Our first FET ended with no implantation, full negative. I tested early and was heart broken everyday up until beta day. I probably didn’t get out of bed for a week. But I mustered up the strength to go straight into another FET.
That’s when we finally saw two lines after two years of TTC. I made my husband look first, and I could tell immediately because he laughed. I looked, and we both cried. Finally, it felt like the weight of the world was off my shoulders. We did it. I was pregnant and going to be a mom.
My favorite influencer posted a shoot with her bump in a gorgeous dress, and I knew I wanted to do the exact same. I made a Pinterest board with a western theme for the nursery. It was finally our time, and I finally felt complete happiness after two years of hell.
Until our first ultrasound came up, and my world was shattered. We saw everything we needed to, but it was measuring about 3 days behind (no big deal), but we couldn’t see a flicker. My heart sank in the room, and I shut off. I knew it was going to be over. We were told to be “cautiously optimistic,” but deep down I knew. Just like when I saw the picture of the embryo for our second transfer, deep down I saw it and knew this one was going to work. It did just not give the outcome we wanted. I audibly sobbed the whole way home.
We were told to be “cautiously optimistic,” but deep down I knew.
The next four days of waiting felt longer than all the two-week wait periods combined. We came up to the next ultrasound, and for some reason that day, I felt like it was all going to be okay, that it was going to work out. That my baby would grow and everything would be fine. I was so, so wrong. The embryo hadn’t grown at all. And the next thing I knew, we were talking about how to miscarry. The embryo was too small to test, and I was exhausted from doing shots, especially if it was for nothing. I miscarried naturally a week after that.
I think the thing that hurts the most is that this was supposed to be our time, our turn. We were finally going to be able to grow our family. Everyone’s Christmas presents were going to be different ways of telling them we were pregnant, and that all is gone now. The Pinterest boards have been archived, and the bump dresses have been deleted. The “magic” of this holiday season truly is missing for me this year after losing my pregnancy. And all I wish for Christmas is to spend the day with my husband and cat, crying over what should have been.
I hate the unknown, but also know that I have to completely surrender to it for this to work.
So now I find myself trying to gather the courage to go further. More advanced testing, more waiting, when will our next transfer be, will I have to do a Lupron depot, will I ever see my baby earth side? I hate the unknown, but also know that I have to completely surrender to it for this to work.
To those who have had their pregnancies and babies ripped away from them in this process, I see you, I’m with you, and I am so sorry. None of us going through any part of IVF deserves this.