The retrieval
Until my October transfer, I was what the IVF community calls —a poor responder. The average number of eggs retrieved in IVF is 8 to 14, and I got 5.
But I was excited for the chance of 5 embryos. If all of them made it to blastocyst, we would freeze them and be able to have 5 chances of conceiving without having to do another egg retrieval. But when we got the call, only 1 made it to blastocyst.
The transfer
This one embryo meant that I had one chance of becoming pregnant, and if it failed, we’d have to spend the same amount of money (15k) and go through the same emotional roller coaster for another “chance.”
The success rates for conceiving through IVF during your first cycle are 33%. On average, it takes up to 3 cycles to conceive during IVF. But even with those statistics, there are no guarantees.
Don and I considered doing another retrieval to get one or maybe two more embryos to freeze and store away. But it was expensive, and Don said, “We only want one more child; let’s just go for it and see what happens.”
On October 20, 2021, we transferred our little miracle and waited.
The result
There’s a 14-day wait when conceiving naturally or through IUI. But after transferring a 5-day embryo, it takes 7 to 8 days for implantation, which means you can test on day 8 or 9.
Because I’d been trying to conceive for 3 years now, I had a plethora of pregnancy tests under my bathroom sink. Don wanted me to wait for my blood test on day 9, which would give us an actual number instead of just a positive or a negative.
I promised Don I’d wait; he really wanted me to. But in the afternoon of day 8, I found myself staring at a negative pregnancy test. I know you’re supposed to wait like 5 minutes before you look at the result, but I never do, and I’ve always looked right away. This time was no different, and I looked saw one line and then quickly crumbled while tossing it into the trash.
About 30 minutes later, I started scrolling through my IVF Facebook group where other women had two lines, but one was faint. I rushed back to the bathroom, retrieved my test from the trash, and noticed a soft blue line was there.
That afternoon, I went to the store and purchased a digital test. No way was I going to put all of my hope in a faint blue line. But when I got home with the test, Don was around, and he spotted the test in my bag.
“What is that?” He said in a panic. “You promised you’d wait,” he yelled, snatching the test from the bag.
After a lot of begging and pleading, he gave it back to me. When I emerged from the bathroom and showed him the big fat POSITIVE, he smiled with hesitation.
“I still want to wait on that blood test tomorrow before getting excited,” he said. But of course, we had the day to process the news and understandably got a little bit excited.
The Scare
Nine hours later, right before climbing into bed, I started hyperventilating at the sight of bright red blood. When the embryo implants, women can have implantation bleeding. But it’s never supposed to be red, and it’s never supposed to gush like a period. I called Don into the bathroom while crying my eyes out, and we both knew it was all over.
I cried myself to sleep that night.
The next day, I went in for my blood test as initially planned. I had little hope, I knew my blood test would be positive, but I also knew it might not be accurate.
When I told Terri, my midwife, about the blood, she told me not to worry. She said it defiantly could mean a chemical pregnancy, but it might still be alright.
The roller coaster
Did you know that there is such a thing as being a little bit pregnant? I used to think you’re pregnant or you’re not. But this is not the case.
The HCG blood test measures the amount of HCG (pregnancy hormone) in your blood. If you hit a 5 or above, you’re technically pregnant. But a 5 is considered very, very low. You need to be in the ’20s or ’30s for a viable pregnancy in the IVF community, and even that number isn’t the greatest.
In IVF, many clinics do 3 pregnancy tests over a span of days. As long as the first test is positive, the HCG (or beta) number should double or increase by at least 60 % over 48 hours. If the number isn’t growing at this rate, it can usually indicate a chemical (early miscarriage) or an ectopic (when the embryo implants in the tubes) pregnancy.
My betas
My first number was great: 296. But I still lacked confidence knowing my number wouldn’t have decreased that much if I’d already lost the baby.
My second number wasn’t great: 522. Because I took my first test on a Friday, we had to wait for 72, not 48 hours to test again. This number meant that my doubling rate was 87 hours, and that’s almost twice as long as it should take to double.
My third test also wasn’t great: 817. This number meant that my doubling rate from tests 2 to 3 was 74 hours.
By this point, my midwife was concerned. She told me we should brace ourselves for chemical or ectopic. I cried all day long. But to be cautious, we took one more test.
I woke up on a Saturday with plans to call my midwife with the results at 9 am. I like to sleep in, but I promptly woke up at 7 am that day. For one hour, I waited while refreshing my email feed every 5 seconds or so. This was it; this was the test that would indicate if I would carry this child or prepare myself for another loss.
At 8 am, my test results appeared in my inbox.
My fourth beta test was a game-changer: 1949. My beta finally doubled in less than 48 hours.
The heartbeat
After that incredible beta number, we had to wait another 2 weeks before seeing a heartbeat. Last year (before I miscarried), we saw the heartbeat at 6 weeks and then seven weeks. At seven weeks, the baby did not measure on track, which was an indicator of a possible miscarriage. There was no heartbeat by the time we returned for my 9-week scan.
This time around, we would see the heartbeat at six weeks and then not for another 2 weeks. I was nervous about this because of what happened last year, and I wanted to see the baby every week.
Don and I braced ourselves at the 6-week scan, and everything looked great and was measuring on track. But 4 days later, I felt anxious and wanted to see the baby before we left for our Thanksgiving trip. Then the worst happened, more blood. I texted my clinic that morning in tears. They said they would fit me in for another ultrasound that day. I had to wait 6 hours. I cried, screamed, and went to the dark side during that time. I just knew that, once again, it was all over.
A glimmer of hope
As you all know, it all turned out okay (so far). I saw a strong heartbeat. Then two weeks later, we were released from our fertility clinic and put in the hands of our OB, where we saw a beautiful growing baby.
Today, I am 15 weeks long. I am aware of how fortunate we are to have gotten pregnant from our first IVF cycle or to have gotten pregnant at all. Some women try for years and never conceive, and some can’t even afford IVF. We are so thankful for the resources and support even to have this chance.
Franky says "relax"
Even though I am grateful, I am also fearful. As a PTSD fighter, it’s hard to move through life with ease, and it’s tough to put faith in the unknown.
When Justin died, I thought my chances of having another child died with him until I found Don.
When the last baby died, I thought our chances of having another child died with them until we found IVF.
We appreciate your prayers and well wishes as we wait on baby Hogg to join us on this earth.
