I just got the call from my doctor. It started with “unfortunately I have bad news.” Honestly she didn’t have to say anything at all. Her tone and the fact that she was calling over the nurse gave it away. I’ve gotten many bad calls before through this process. I can usually pick up if it’s good or bad pretty quickly. This call crushed a hope I’ve had for years. The hope that this second batch of embryos, more specifically this last embryo would bring us a second child. Now that hope is gone. Our embryo is abnormal- missing chromosome 16.
It’s hard to pinpoint how I feel. Sadness, anger, defeat, and exhaustion are all there. My anxiety has spiked as evidenced by the tightness in my chest. I think I need to cry but I’m trying to hold it in as I’m home with alone with my daughter right now.
It’s been almost six years since we first went to the fertility doctor. This embryo has been with me since I was thirty one- first as a frozen egg and then an embryo. It was the hope I clung on to after my miscarriage in October. The hope I clung to when my daughter said repeatively over the last year that she wanted to be a big sister. Now it’s gone …along with the hope. I think my husband and I always attached some luck to this embryo. Brynn was the last embryo in the first bunch, so I always felt this last embryo would be lucky too. When I reflect back on our fertility treatment, I can’t help thinking how crazy it is that my 45 eggs resulted in one baby. As much as the numbers are disappointing, that one baby is the greatest miracle of my life. My greatest joy and I would do it all over again.
Am I done? I don’t know. When my daughter tells me she wants to be a big sister it makes me want to try again. It makes me never want to stop trying. How do you know when you’re done? I try to decide for my future self sometimes- like if I stop now will I regret it in the future? Of course there’s no way to know. No way to know if I am one egg retrieval and one transfer away or if I will never have another child.