IVF (Pt. 8): And Then There Were Four

As of today, we have four embryos. Out of the six eggs retrieved on Friday, three were inseminated naturally, and the other three were inseminated using ICSI. Each procedure produced two embryos, and they are currently being monitored separately. Our doctor wasn’t thrilled with the final egg count, but she was excited about getting four embryos out of six eggs.

On Monday (Day 3), the embryos reached the Cleavage Stage, and we were told that embryos at this stage are graded on a “Good”, “Fair,” and “Poor” standard, with “Good” embryos having 6-12 cells. There is no change in the overall size of the embryo at this point - just an increase in cell count.

We had the following figures:

• Natural Insemination: eight and ten cells

• ICSI: eight and eight cells

Thankfully, all four of our embryos were graded as “Good.” Although one of the natural embryos had stopped showing signs of cell division, the doctor didn’t sound too worried and said they will continue to monitor them all until Day 5 - the Blastocyst Stage.

By the Blastocyst Stage, the embryos should have hundreds of cells with differentiation - some of them will eventually become the actual fetus and others, the placenta that will hold and keep the baby safe throughout pregnancy. During this stage, the embryo will actually grow enough to stretch the membrane and burst through - a process called hatching. Once an embryo hatches, it is well on its way to be frozen or implanted.

All of our embryos deemed healthy at this point will be frozen, biopsied, and the samples sent to a lab for chromosomal testing. The testing is supposed to take 7-10 days, so we’ll miss the window for implantation during this cycle. This means that we’ll have to wait for my next cycle to plan and schedule ours. At this point, we’re looking at another 40-ish days.

Until then, all Jin and I can do is pray that our cell counts stay high, all cells divide and grow healthily, and all four are found to be normal and approved for implantation.

IVF (Pt. 7): The Retrieval

Our Valentine’s Day this year started very early in the morning. We woke up at 6:00 AM to prepare and leave for Beverly Hills. We were excited for the day… but not for the reasons you’d think.

I was scheduled for an egg retrieval procedure at 8:30 AM, and we had to be at the surgery center by 7:15 AM.

The nurse assigned to me kept rushing and calling me “baby girl.” She didn’t look any older than me, but whatever made her feel better…Blood pressure and temperature measured, IV put in and hooked up, a quick visit from my doctor and the anesthesiologist, and we were on our way to the procedure room. I was given the anesthetics right before they wheeled me off, and soon after reaching the procedure room, I was out.

I started coming to and noticed that I was still in the procedure room. They wheeled me back to the waiting area, and I knocked out again. At one point, I remember my doctor coming by to check up on me. She told me that the procedure went smoothly, but I could tell by her expression that she wasn’t too excited. She told me that they were able to harvest 6 eggs. We were expecting 12-15… and although I prepared myself for the possibility of less than that, I was NOT expecting 6…

I was told that the procedure itself takes about 20-30 minutes, so it couldn’t have been later than 9:00 AM when I got back. But they kept me in there for a while because I was apparently having trouble breathing and the monitor was beeping all sorts of warnings to the nursing staff. My nurse was absolutely in a rush to get me out of there. She brought over some water and Tylenol for me, in the hopes that it would make me feel better and get me out of there earlier, but it was only 10 minutes before I had to throw it all up. Between the nausea and drowsiness, I felt miserable.

When my breathing finally stabilized and my blood pressure was back down to normal, they asked me if I was ready for Jin. If I had it my way, I would have asked him to be by my side way earlier.

As I waited for them to call Jin in, I thought, “Six eggs… Only 6… Of those how many will actually get inseminated??? How many less will pass the chromosomal testing???” When Jin walked in, I felt relieved to see him, but I was drowning in guilt, too. It felt like, once again, my body had failed. How could there have ONLY be 6 eggs out of 17 follicles???

Jin walked in with a smile, and all I wanted to do was cry. I was sorry and disappointed… I was frustrated and angry… I felt broken and useless… Thank God the nausea and drowsiness left me out of sorts and unable to express any of the above.

“It’s okay, wife. Dr. Wang told me everything. It’s only six eggs, but they’re going to be super eggs!”

His enthusiasm made me smile, but there was still a part of me dying from guilt.

Once we got home, I knocked out for over two hours, but the nausea didn’t go away until evening. I threw up everything I ate and drank all day, and it wasn’t until dinner that I was actually able to hold down food. While picking up lunch, Jin picked up groceries for a Valentine’s Day dinner at home, and he made us a delicious steak dinner with ice cream for dessert.

Ice cream always helps.

Always.

From this point on, we’re looking at about another 1-1.5 months until implantation. Until then, the real test will be to keep our eyes fixed on God’s promises and not lose faith.

IVF (Pt. 6): Tick-Tock

This week, I had to go in for an ultrasound and blood draw three days in a row. The follicles were responding much better to the 300 IU dosage, but they just weren’t hitting the optimal sizes. So I actually ended up making yet another refill trip out to Encino to pick up one more night’s worth of injections.

Last night, Jin and I administered the last of our daily injections, and then, we prayed.

Please, please, please let this work.
Please let this be the first and last round of IVF for us to have a baby.

This morning, I went in for my third ultrasound, and my doctor was VERY happy with the results. By now, I’ve been to enough ultrasounds to know what follicles look like on the screen, and even to my untrained eyes, those babies looked HUGE. The smallest measured in at about 8 mm x 7 mm, and the largest one measured about 27 mm x 25 mm.

No wonder I felt bloated and gross.

Tonight, I will give myself the trigger shot, then on Friday morning, we will head in to the reproductive center where my doctor will meet us to perform the retrieval. She counted and measured 17 follicles today, and she said we’re looking at about 12-15 of them producing an egg.

And then, fertilization, growth, testing, and implantation will happen based on a rather tight and rigid schedule.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

IVF (Pt. 5): Almost There

We added Ganirelix to the daily injection parties on Sunday morning. Since starting our daily injections, we had to increase the Follistim dosage from 150 IU to 225 IU… then to 300 IU. The first few days, the follicles were just not responding at the rate they were supposed to. Thanks to that, we had to refill our Follistim prescription last weekend in case we had to continue the dosage at 300 IU.

Our weekend ultrasound and blood draw was somewhat encouraging - the follicles seemed to be responding and growing at a much better rate than before. This morning, however, the doctor was very excited because they were finally at a decent size for where we are in the overall schedule. So, she told me to come back tomorrow for another ultrasound and blood draw so that we can get another measurement of all the follicles and determine a retrieval date.

As it stands, it looks like the retrieval will be this Friday. If so, I can stop the nightly Follistim and Menopur injections after tonight, and instead, give myself the HCG (trigger) shot tomorrow night to prepare for Friday’s procedure. I have exactly enough of both Follistim and Menopur for one more injection, so I’m hoping that we’ll be good to go for Friday, and we won’t need to get yet another refill of the meds.

My right arm and lower stomach is bruised from all the needle pricks, but I don’t even care. It’s almost a temporary badge of honor that I look at fondly because through all this, Jin and I will be able to welcome a child of our own into this world. And as we prepare for the procedure, I remember all the prayer support we’ve been receiving from friends, and once again, I count our blessings.

What God has planned for our family, and why His timing is what it is… it’s still all a mystery to me. What I DO know is that our little family of two is truly blessed. And it’s not just us that’s blessed. As a close sister once pointed out to me:

How blessed is your child that it is being COVERED with prayer even before conception???

IVF (Pt. 4): The Daily Grind

The daily injections started Sunday night. Every night, at the same time, I need one dose of Follistim and one of Menopur. Both medicines are supposed to encourage as many follicles to grow so that we can harvest as many as possible. A greater harvest means more eggs to inseminate, and more eggs inseminated means more embryos.

Follistim is administered through a pen-like instrument. It’s easy, clean, and there’s no fuss. Of course there’s a pinch when the needle goes in, but after that, I really can’t feel anything at all.

Menopur is a different story. You have to draw up the saline solution into the syringe, release it into the medicine bottle to mix, draw everything back up the syringe again, switch out the needle, then administer the shot.

And it stings.

Not the kind of sting that makes you wince, but the kind that makes you grab for anything nearby to squeeze.

It’s not fun, but it’s definitely not as bad as I thought it would be. Jin took it upon himself to learn how to prepare the shots so that he can administer them each night. I could tell he was nervous preparing the medication on the first night, but by the second time around, he was definitely feeling a lot more confident. In a few days, we’ll be adding Ganirelix in the mornings, and we’ll be that much closer to the next step of this process.

IVF (Pt. 3): D-2

We picked up the meds for the our first round of IVF about two weeks ago. The pharmacist explained what each one was, but it was all Greek to me. None of it made sense, and I just kept looking at her putting in one box after another into a bag much larger than any other I have ever picked up from a pharmacy. There were a couple injections that had to be kept refrigerated, so when we got home, I put those in the fridge, put the bag of meds off to the side, and proceeded to ignore the bag, only acknowledging its presence when I had to move it out of my way.

I had my second ultrasound on Wednesday. My doctor measured the lining of my uterus, panned over to my right ovary, and said, “Look at that trusty right ovary with all those follicles! That’s fantastic!”

Do you see why I like her so much?

Yesterday, I had to go back to the hospital to get a tutorial on all the injections I had to give myself at home. The nurse went through each of the different injections and demonstrated how to prepare, administer and dispose of each. It was a hands-on tutorial, so I was especially grateful that she waited patiently for me to try it out myself, then write copious notes on each procedure. I left the tutorial thinking, “Yeah… okay… I can do this.” Once I got home, it hit me:

Shit. I have to actually do this .

I think a LARGE part of me truly believed that IUI would work, and when it didn’t, it went on to believe that we would, by some miracle, conceive naturally over the holidays.

But it didn’t…

And we didn’t…

So here we are.

The daily injections start Sunday night. I’m scared but excited. I know that once this works, and we’re holding our child in our arms, we’ll look back and say that it was all worth it. For now, I’m trying to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for the next few weeks.

IVF (Pt. 2): It's Only the Beginning

I’ve taken birth control pills before. I can’t remember the brand I used to take, but my current doctor prescribed a different one for the first two weeks of IVF prep. I didn’t think much about it and starting taking the pills as directed.

Ugh… This brand hit me with side effects that I did not have to deal with before. For the first few days, I felt nauseous, bloated, and tired. I threw up my breakfast and lunch on the first two days, and it wasn’t until the early evenings when I felt like I could actually hold down food. After the first few days, however, my body was able to adjust, and I haven’t been hit with the nausea bug since. It still doesn’t feel like we’ve actually started the process though… It probably won’t sink in until I start the ultrasounds, injections, pills, etc.

***

There still are a million+1 questions that I put to God everyday… 99.99% of which are along the lines of “How can you be THIS unfair???”

The most difficult part of this journey, however, is watching my husband trying to engage God in a relationship for the first time in his life and through heartbreak and letdowns no less. Getting to know God is a big enough mystery when times are good… but getting to know Him when He is presenting Himself as a withholding, distant and “cruel” deity? I can see him trying to make sense of why this is happening to us and coming up empty. It’s utterly defeating to watch someone you love so much struggling to believe in a God who has proven Himself as merciful and generous to you time and time again.

Then, it hit me: this is the start of Jin’s real journey with God.

What he and I termed “doubting” is actually his spirit wrestling with God for his blessing. Just like Jacob refused to let go of God until he got His blessing, Jin, too, was wrestling with God for the blessing of our family. And while he may feel defeated that he is not where he’s “supposed” to be as the head of our household, it is actual through his wrestling, struggling and not letting go that he will get to know God in a way that is uniquely and wholly his.

IVF (Pt. 1): And Here We Go~

Yesterday was my first ultrasound with the doctor for the new year. Everything “looked good” and we're good to start our very first round of IVF. What I didn’t know was that it would be about ten weeks from now until implantation. So we’re looking at 2.5 months of waiting, then even more waiting to see if the implantation worked.

I was prescribed two weeks of birth control pills (which seems counter-productive, but is apparently necessary to kick-start the process), then it’ll be another ultrasound to make sure that I’m good to go for the daily rounds of meds and injections. There will even be an hour-long tutorial at the doctor’s office on how to take/inject each of the many meds prescribed for the process. THEN comes the ultrasounds and blood tests every other day.

When I was leaving the doctor’s office, they gave me a breakdown of my IVF schedule, then a breakdown of the cash package for the entire process. They kindly took their time explaining the different options we have and how each cost will be determined and applied, but the mountainous sum was dizzying. I felt my brain slowly check out because to really focus and understand how much this would all cost would require answering the question: “How are we going to pay for all this???”

Then came more questions:

“What if this doesn’t work?”
”Is it right for us to spend this huge amount of money on something that God hasn’t given to us naturally?”
”What if this doesn’t work?”
”Am I ready for this?”
”What if this doesn’t work?”

I had to calm myself down and remind myself of God’s promise:

2020 is going to be a good year.

Yes and amen.

A Good Year

December turned out to be an unfruitful month… fertility-wise, that is.

After we completed the IUI procedure in November, we decided that if it wasn’t successful, we would take a break from fertility treatments during the month of December. The seemingly non-stop doctor appointments and procedures were beginning to slowly choke the air out of my lungs. So, we chose to spend the holidays appointment-free.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I didn’t think about it everyday.

As 2019 came to a close, and Jin and I prayed about what’s to come in 2020, there was a tingling in my heart. God was telling me:

2020 is going to be a GOOD year.

Yes and AMEN.

We may not get pregnant.
We may not get a child.
We may not buy a house.
In fact, nothing physical or material may change.

But it’s going to be good.

It’s going to be a year of healing…
Breakthrough…
Open doors…

A good year.

What I Wish You Knew About Infertility (Pt. 3)

I recently read a Buzzfeed article titled “23 Women Share What They Wish People Understood About Infertility.” Many of the things these women shared resonated with me, so I wanted to share some of the points that stood out to me in a few separate posts.

Post No. 3
“Opening up to friends and loved ones is hard, full of people offering unsolicited advice, and other trying not to bring it up because it’s too hard or awkward for them to talk about.”

“I wish people understood that infertility is a deeply personal issue and sometimes you don’t want to talk about it. I didn’t share with my family my infertility troubles until after I had finally become pregnant.”

Oftentimes, I don’t want to talk about our infertility issues. It feels like I am reiterating to people how my body failed again… and again… and again. I know that it may sound ridiculous, but it’s as if saying “It was negative” out loud is somehow damning and cursing my body over and over. Saying it out loud - hearing myself saying it - feels like pouring cement over the broken pieces of my heart such that they can never be put back together the same way again.

And no, having done this for seemingly endless cycles does NOT make it any easier.

Each time, I ask myself: “Why does it STILL hurt so much? How could it hurt just as much, IF NOT MORE, each time??? I put myself back together again. I told myself and Jin that it was okay… that I was okay.”

But it was a lie.

More often than not, I’m not okay. My heart is a jagged, broken mess. I am constantly conflicted by my head telling me that I should count my blessings and be grateful for the very air I breathe, as opposed to my heart telling me that God’s just not fair. In addition, reflecting on the past few years of us trying to have a child and finally starting fertility treatments, I realized that there were a LOT of people offering thoughts, prayers, and recommendations, but not a lot of people just sympathizing with us… Just a simple, “I’m so sorry that you’re going through this hardship” or even a “Man… that really sucks” would be a much better salve than any of the millions of recommendations, should’s, and could’s I’ve been given thus far. And while sharing with people can be healing, each time I talk about it, it feels like I’m tearing open my heart and exposing my wounds time and time again only to Scotch-tape it back together and pretend that I’m okay for the sake of the other’s comfort.

These days, my heart is heavy and crying out for healing and soothing. It cries out to God in both my silence and the screams and sobs I let out in my car during my commute home at the end of the day. I know that this too shall pass. I know that some time in the future, Jin and I will look back at this time and awe at how much we’ve grown through this pain… because of this pain.

But that future isn’t here yet.

What I Wish You Knew About Infertility (Pt. 2)

I recently read a Buzzfeed article titled “23 Women Share What They Wish People Understood About Infertility.” Many of the things these women shared resonated with me, so I wanted to share some of the points that stood out to me in a few separate posts.

Post No. 2
“If ‘being positive’ made babies, I’d have skipped some heavy rounds of Clomid, Letrozole, four IUIs, two surgeries, tears, a miscarriage, and 4+years of trying.”

I know most people mean well when they tell me to stay positive. I know that more often than not, they’re just trying to cheer me up.

But that’s just the thing: it doesn’t.

Rather, it sounds like they’re putting the responsibility of infertility on me - as if Jin and I do not have children yet because I’m just not quite positive enough. As a Christian, I am also often told that I just need to have faith. I just need to believe. I just need to pray more diligently. I’ve even had people chide me for those moments when I take the risk to share that hope seems like a far away dream.

And in these moments, I wonder if they would feel the same if they were the ones praying desperately for a miracle.

So for those of you who are tempted to tell me to keep up the positive thoughts, I want you to know that there is so much more than mere positivity that is required of me in these trying times. I wish I can breakdown the complicated, scrambled, and otherwise messy chaos that is my mind and heart going through this process, but I’m not sure I can…

Oh wait… was I not being positive enough again?

What I Wish You Knew About Infertility (Pt. 1)

I recently read a Buzzfeed article titled “23 Women Share What They Wish People Understood About Infertility.” Many of the things these women shared resonated with me, so I wanted to share some of the points that stood out to me in a few separate posts.

Post No. 1
“Please don’t tell us how ‘lucky’ we are that we can get a full night’s sleep, sleep in late, or go out anytime we want.”

Let me set the record straight: Going through seemingly endless cycles of treatments/medication, ultrasounds, procedures, hope, devastation, collecting and putting back together pieces of yourself and healing is NOT my idea of being lucky.

Being able to get pregnant without having to spend a shit-ton of money is lucky.
Being able to carry your baby to term is lucky.
Having someone in your life that you love more than life itself is lucky.
Not being able to go out because your child needs you at home, rather than because you need to save up whatever money you can for the next round of treatment, is lucky.

I’m sure sleep deprivation and the sense of losing your freedom is tiring and difficult. And I usually tell myself that if these individuals had enough sleep and awareness, they would NEVER say something so insensitive and thoughtless.

But it still stings.

Every.

Single.

Time.

I can’t tell you the number of nights I’ve lost sleep, tossing and turning, worried and scared about the what-ifs - the number of times I jolted awake in the middle of the night in a frenzied state of panic. I can’t even BEGIN to tell you what it feels like to think that your husband is so unlucky to have met someone who needs to go through all this and spend so much money on fertility treatments… all without a guarantee that it will actually work. I can’t tell you how deeply it cuts me when you sit there bemoaning the demands and costs of raising a child, when I’m spending, trying and praying so desperately for the CHANCE that I may have one of my own someday.

So before you tell me how lucky we are that we have so much time and resources to ourselves, please, please, PLEASE think about the implications of your words on someone who would gladly exchange late nights out and traveling opportunities to have just ONE child of their own.

IUI - The Finale

My ultrasound this morning was very encouraging. It showed great growth in one follicle, so it showed us (once again), that my doctor has my medication dosage and cycle-tracking down. So tonight is the trigger shot, and our third and final trial with IUI will be on Wednesday morning.

Third time’s gotta be the charm… right?

I always tell myself that I won’t bank too much hope in this procedure, but there’s a part of me that screams each time:

BUT THERE’S STILL AN 8-10% CHANCE!!!

If this last round of IUI doesn’t work out, it’ll be nice to have a break during December to not worry about medication, calculating/timing ultrasounds, getting ultrasounds, paying for ultrasounds…

Of course, I would MUCH RATHER spend December worrying about how to curb morning sickness.

And I know there was at least one person who caught herself thinking, “You don’t know what you’re talking about - morning sickness is the WORST!”

I’ve actually had a few people say this to me when I shared with them that at this point, I would welcome morning sickness, because it would be a sign that I was pregnant and my baby was growing inside me. They said it so flippantly, dismissing my sentiments as foolish, taking on an air of superiority that only came from experience. As if my lack of experience with pregnancy was by choice… or their experience with it a symbol that they were somehow above me.

Recently, I read a collection of tweets from women who shared what they wished other people understood about infertility, and so many of their hurts resonated with me. So the next few posts will be me sharing some of these posts, and how I relate to them. For now, I’ve got to focus on staying sane for the next two weeks.

To IUI (Again)...

Jin and I met with our doctor this morning, and she went through the whole process of IVF with us.

Oh, by the way, did you know that there is such a thing as Unexplained Infertility? This is where there is absolutely nothing wrong with either person, but pregnancy just doesn’t happen.

Add THAT to the list of things I need to start rebuking and casting out of our marriage.

As the doctor was going through the IVF process, my head started getting blurry, and I felt myself slowly starting to fade away. Ultrasounds and blood tests every other day… 2-3 hormone injections everyday… ovulation meds… extraction… insemination… embryo testing… implantation…

It’s all so dizzying.

And because I’m JUST over the age of 35, she is highly recommending chromosome testing the embryos BEFORE implantation to make sure they are healthy.

Of course, this will add a “significant” cost to our already hefty bill.

We decided that we would do another round of IUI, and if I don’t get pregnant the third time around, we’ll take a break during December and start the IVF process in January.

Aside from all appointments and medications, I think it’ll be good to not think about it at all for even just a month. Of course, the best outcome would be that this last round of IUI will absolutely work… even with just an 8-10% chance of success.

To IUI (Again) or To Not IUI (Again)?

Our second IUI trial resulted in another negative result.

So now, Jin and I have to make a decision: Do we give IUI another try and hope that the third time’s the charm for us? Or do we move on to IVF?

I’m pretty sure most people who reached this point has said the same, but I truly NEVER thought that I would find myself in this place.

We have a doctor appointment tomorrow morning, and there’s a small part of me that’s just tired. I don’t want the invasive ultrasounds anymore. I don’t want to go through the hope->excitement->letdown cycle anymore. How many more of this will I have to go through?

How much is this all going to cost us???

Everyone tells you how expensive it is to raise a child… but no one ever told me how expensive it would be to get pregnant with one. Jin is quite a frugal man, so whenever he talks about our budget and savings, and how he would like to be saving more, how he wants to save as much as possible as soon as possible so that we can buy a house and start FULLY saving for retirement… chunks of my heart are consumed by guilt.

I think it would be different if I was able to get pregnant even once and miscarried. At least I would know that I CAN get pregnant.

IUI - Round Two

WARNING: Today is NOT one of my good and optimistic days.

Turns out, your chances of success with IUI do NOT increase with each try. So, each time we try, we’re looking at an 8-10% chance of success.

That’s it.

I’m trying to be optimistic (mostly for everyone else’s benefit), but it’s definitely not easy. Each time, I can sense the other’s hesitancy in asking us about our progress, then comes the slightly awkward and not-so-reassuring nods and pats. Each time, I put on the best smile I can manage in that moment and say one or more of the following:

“I’m sure it’ll happen for us soon!”
“We’re just waiting on God’s timing~!”
“We ARE planning ahead for the possibility of IVF, but we’re praying that we won’t need it!”
“Yes, we’re NOT losing hope and praying through this!”

Going through this process, I’ve heard variations of the same phrases that people repeat to Jin and me, and I always have a response in my head that I never say out loud. (Be forewarned: LOTS of bitterness and anger ahead.)

“Try not to stress about it.” | ”Try not to think about it too much.”
Wow! Why didn’t I think of that???

“Don’t worry – God has a plan for you, and He WILL make this happen!”
Yes and AMEN – but seriously, how much time have you devoted to praying for our family and what kind of confirmations have you received?

“Don’t worry and stay positive!!!”
Easy for you to say…

“Having kids isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.”
That’s because you HAVE them.

“Don’t worry! Medicine has advanced so much – if nothing else, you can always go through IVF!”
Really? Are YOU going to pay for any or all of our IVF trials?

“I KNOW this is going to happen for you guys. I just KNOW it.”
Do ya???

“Hey, there’s always surrogacy and adoption!”
Hey, not everyone’s strong enough (or wealthy enough) for those options.

“Wait as LONG as possible before you have kids!!!!!! Enjoy this time alone!!!”
Fuck you.

8-10%

“8-10%.”

That was the rate of success for our first round of IUI.

The rate of success supposedly increases with each try, but our first try would only allow 8-10%. It’s a bleak outlook, but we prayed that it would be enough for God. He has done greater things with lesser rates of success, so 8-10% should be easy-peasy, no? The truth is that God can do all things even with a 0% rate of success, and when it comes to us having children, I believe that His answer was never “NO” but always “NOT YET".

And that’s what He said this time around.

“Not yet.”

Surprisingly, I’m doing well with the news. I’m sure there will be a time in the near future where it may hit me a different way, but as of now, I’m doing okay. Calls were made to the doctor’s office with requests for information and direction, and I’m mentally preparing myself for the next round.

Round N+1 (Pt.2)

The meds worked!

This weekend will be all about timed shots and medication, and on Monday, Jin and I will be going in for the IUI procedure!!! When the doctor told me that we’re good to go for the IUI injection this morning, I almost cried. It felt like a teeny, tiny, little dam was breaking somewhere and we were FINALLY able to move forward.

IF this procedure doesn’t work, we’ll move forward with IVF… but we are praying that this will be it.

Please let this be it.

Round N+1 (Pt.1)

The pregnancy tests were negative again.

So this time around, the doctor prescribed a higher dose of the ovulation meds PLUS ultrasounds and blood tests every other day PLUS the HCG trigger shot. The hormone injections are supposed to help my follicles actually grow at a predictable rate so that the doctor can time the IUI injection.

Ugh…

Before, the beginning of each cycle brought a sense of hope and excitement - each cycle felt like it would be THE one that brought us good news. And now… Now there’s nothing but reminders from my phone for scheduled tests/procedures and to pick-up or take my meds.

The bright side is that Jin and I are drawing closer to God through this. Whether it be in sorrow or anger, we are praying a lot more than we used to. This isn’t to say that we don’t have our ups and downs. We do. But the conclusion is that God is always good - through and through.

The higher dose of the ovulation meds seems to be working - my ultrasound showed that my follicles are showing signs of growth at a faster rate than my earlier cycles. If they continue to grow at this rate until the next ultrasound (which is in a couple days), I can skip the hormone shots.

Please, God… Please let this work.

The Nth Round

After our latest attempt to get pregnant, we decided that we would give IUI a go. At this point, I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve gone through the cycle of planning, timing, hoping, being let down, and waiting some more. So when our latest attempt didn’t result in pregnancy, we decided that we wanted to take the next step.

More meds, more ultrasounds, and more waiting… Then, at my last ultrasound, we saw that my follicle still wasn’t big enough - even with the meds.

It was disheartening.

What went wrong? Why wasn’t it reacting like it did the first time around? Our doctor suggested that we forego IUI this round since we didn’t get a clear growth and hope that we can get pregnant naturally this cycle. If not, we can always try IUI next round.

Jin and I still say that if God doesn’t give us a biological child, we’ll just save the money we would have spent on our child(ren) and spend it on traveling and early retirement. It would be a comforting plan if it didn’t come with a tinge of heartbreak.

Don’t get me wrong, we discussed surrogacy and adoption too, but I just don’t think I’ll be able to watch someone else go through the bonding experience between mom and baby that is pregnancy, and we both agreed that we’re just not strong enough to adopt. We firmly believe in the beauty and necessity of adoption. However, we even more strongly believe that unless we are SURE that we can love that child with all our hearts just as if he or she were our own flesh and blood, we would be doing not only ourselves, but most importantly, the child a great disservice.

So here we are… waiting… again.