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My period would come and with that I was angry and frustrated with my body. Luckily I met my girlfriend and she told me about Seattle Reproductive Medicine. She was much further along in the process of IVF but encouraged me to at least meet with Dr. Lin and do some initial testing.

These were questions I continually asked myself. In my desperation of searching for answers and support wherever I could find it, my girlfriend suggested acupuncture. It felt wonderful to have a counselor and a nap all in one. It helped me feel like I was gaining some sort of control over a helpless situation. I also went to a naturopath to run allergy tests to find out if there were other stressors on my body. I was feeling on the crazy end of the spectrum. Lin acknowledged my moral dilemma and made me feel more human, he was so understanding.

He spoke to me as a friend who empathized with my struggle about freezing my embryos as opposed to keeping it strictly scientific. I was also very grateful to have the support of my husband along the entire journey. Here is just a sampling of what I was told to do to be successful:.

A New Perspective On Infertility | Thrive Global

Once we had exhausted all the options, taken a break, my husband and Dr. Lin were the instigators and encouraged us to go ahead with IVF.

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Again, I felt hopeful that this would work. Once I started down the IVF road, most every moment was positive for us. It helped me to feel that this was finally going to be successful. We had an incredible egg retrieval and then the hard part of patience came. Waiting two weeks for our results felt like eternity. The minute by minute emotions from feeling super positive that we were going to finally hear the best news that I had never heard or trying to protect myself from more heartbreak that it had failed.

My husband at first thought it was bad news…. I finally heard what I had been longing to hear those three little words…. We got to envision being parents to TWO babies and plan for their due date. After a great pregnancy and two amazing boys and TONS of family support we felt our family was not finished. And so the emotional roller coaster ride began again. I never lost that hope that we could conceive naturally and without science…but we ended up back at SRM to implant our frozen embryo.

This time it felt too easy. All I had to do was implant…no shots…. On that memorable 2 nd results phone call day I had started my period and all the while kept thinking that maybe just maybe I was still going to hear good news.

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All of my emotions of anger came flooding back from when I was trying on my own and doing IUIs. I was so disappointed with my body. I told family and friends that we were done! Again my husband and Dr. Lin were incredibly supportive to do it again and so we did. She is now 6 months old, chubby and the smiliest little baby I know! I realized after my experience that one of my purposes in life is to share my fertility story with those who are struggling with the same issues and to give them hope. Request an Appointment My life is dominated by my body and an idea. My husband is incredibly supportive of me.

In a quest for community, I jump onto infertility forums and I am confronted with a terrifying reality: Many people try numerous times. I feel gripped with fear. Fear of myself and my emotions.

The Story of The Baby I Never Had

Getting a hormone shot sounds so inane. How many shots have you had in your life. No big deal, right? Everyday I start with a massive hormone shot in my stomach.

Every little girl dreams of her wedding day, this little girl dreamed of becoming a mother.

I imagine it driving itself through my bloodstream straight into my internal lady parts. I feel let down and alone, my doctor never told me this or prepared me for the effects. Disjointed by hormones I wake up crying every morning. I am not pregnant, but I must treat myself as if I am. I am caught between reality and fantasy. Fertility experts abound, especially women who get pregnant easily.

Our Journey through infertility

Later shots are administered by my husband, who HATES giving them to me because they are so painful to me. The sadistic morning needle ritual begins as I brace myself against the counter, look up to the ceiling and begin a mini-breathing meditation to get through the shot. My rear side looks like a giant eggplant. Once again, I refer to the IVF forums and find out that having this kind of bum bruising is not normal. Phones ringing, a hushed sense of rush. Now I am waiting in the sterile examination room alone.

I close my eyes and I wake up 40 minutes later, when the nurse comes in to check on me and apologize for the wait. In this world, where your future, your dreams, are in the hands of these people, I am the Stepford patient. A huge fucking problem, I have somewhere to be, but obviously nowhere nearly as important as this. I show them both my bruising, they look at me with deep concern and confusion. A biopsy needle every day. This is why I have to brace myself every single morning.

This is why I wake up crying. This is why I have to do breathing exercises. And this is why I have eggplant butt.

A Journey Through Infertility

Who is my advocate through all this? Who do I turn to in confusion? I remember the session I had with one of the nurses, in a tiny, airless conference room with female anatomy posters on the wall, about administering shots. I remember my confusion and her friendly, but rushed responses. This is new to me, explain it again. As the doctor draws a circle on my butt and shows me the needles I should have used, I wonder why no one did this for me when I first started?

Why does the factory only slow down for emergencies? When will my situation be a priority?

Why was I left alone to figure this out and wander through the ethers of the internet to make sense of my experience? I take it as a badge of courage. Am I practicing motherhood already? There is nothing left to be done but wait. This is our chance. Two kids and done. Will get 5, 10, 15 years down the line and decide he wants to be a Dad before he dies? I begin to feel that I might be the source of great sadness and loss for him. The waiting is over. Despite my high hormones, I produce not fifteen, not ten, but 3 pathetic eggs and two survive the procedure. Everyone is unprepared for this room.

No one knows how to act, comfort or conform. Every door is opened tentatively. Well-meaning friends search for an appropriate response to this stage of pregnancy. We hear many inspirational stories of couples who get pregnant unexpectedly, even after many failed IVF attempts. We wanted OUR kids. Kids with his eyes and my laugh. Toe-heads like we were. I get very clear on something: I hold on to that.