The Thing About IVF
The thing about IVF is that most people have already walked a very long, very painful road to get there. To get to the point where they decide to try IVF.
I say "try" because there are no guarantees with in vitro fertilization. Will your body respond well enough to the hormones and grow enough follicles that contain mature eggs? Will those eggs fertilize successfully? Will the embryos then make it to Day 5 blastocyst stage when one or two of them can be transferred back into your body? Of if you could not transfer blastocysts during this cycle and they are frozen, will they survive the thaw? Even if they do, and even if you have a perfect looking blastocyst, there is still no guarantee that it will implant in your uterus. Implantation is one of the many incredible miracles that takes place during the conception process, and probably the one that intrigues me the most.
It took a long while for me to get comfortable with the idea of IVF. It was not how I'd ever imagined I'd conceive a child. But after years of trying to start a family, hoping, praying, visiting fertility specialists, undergoing test after excruciating and humiliating test, we were diagnosed with unexplained infertility. (I'll share more on that journey in another blog post.) If we wanted conceive our own children, IVF was our only option. We were given less than a 1% chance of conceiving naturally, due to my "advanced age" (over 35) and the fact that I'd never been pregnant before. I wasn't of "advanced age" when we'd begun trying to conceive. The doctor at the IVF clinic gave us a 33% chance of a successful first round of IVF, due to my age (36) and not knowing how my body would respond to the medication. It can take several attempts of refining protocols and treatment before IVF is successful.
So we prayed, we waited, I researched, we prayed some more. And God brought some wonderful friends into my life. Friends who had walked this infertility journey, all for different reasons and with different outcomes. But friends who opened up their hearts to me and shared their stories. During lunch with one of these dear friends, I was describing my discomfort with the thought of IVF, the cognitive dissonance of whether we were interfering with God's plans and trying too hard to take matters into our own hands. And this dear friend explained to me that it still required a miracle for conception to take place during IVF. That science can take you so far, but that God still ultimately decides.
The great miracle is that there has to be a mutual agreement between the embryo and the endometrium in order for implantation to happen. It's like they're scoping each other out, saying "Hey! Are we going to do this?" "Yes, okay, let's give this a try!" You can have the best grade embryo (they do have different grades, believe it or not) but if there's no agreement with the endometrium, implantation will not take place. There is nothing that science can do that can force that agreement to happen.
My husband and I decided we would go through the egg retrieval process of IVF only once. For my sanity, and my peace of mind. For the hope of children, and also for closure. To know that we had tried to pursue all options of having our own children. I was worried that if we decided not to go that route, that a few years later, I might regret not having tried, and that it would be too late. To rest in God's plans for the ultimate outcome -- whatever that may be -- and be surrendered to that.
We are both still amazed and so incredibly grateful that our first round of IVF has resulted in a twin pregnancy! We do not take this for granted, and my heart aches for my infertility sisters who have gone through the pain of an unsuccessful first round, after enduring all the hormones and injections, and the emotional rollercoaster that is the two week wait.
While I was researching IVF, I was desperate to find online resources of the procedure, honest recounts of what the experience was like, and stories that would increase my faith.
I'll be sharing out IVF story over the course of a few blog posts, and I do hope that if you are also on this journey, that somehow, these posts will be a source of insight or reassurance to you. Please feel free to ask me any questions. While I'm certainly no medical expert, I'd be happy to give you an honest account of our experience. Be strong and courageous!
(PS. This song provided much encouragement during my darkest days. I hope it brings you comfort, too.)
