You know how in movies, when someone is shocked to find out
that a character is pregnant? They usually say something like, “Oh my God!
You’re pregnant?!” And the woman sheepishly replies, “A little bit” or “Kind
of.” The person usually then says, “A little bit? There’s no such thing as a
little bit pregnant!” Turns out, that’s not entirely true.
Unfortunately, I can attest to the fact that one can, indeed
be a little bit pregnant. My IVF cycle was a near success. At least one of the
embryos implanted, and I got a positive pregnancy test. But the positive was
very low (HCG beta 9.9), and when I went back two days later, it had only risen
to 11.1, instead of doubling. At that point, Dr. K called me and said he didn’t
think the pregnancy was viable. But, since it had gone up a little, he didn’t
want to rule it out completely, so he said to come back in three days later
(that was Monday 2/17). On that last blood test, the levels had gone down to 7,
so Dr. K confirmed that it was a chemical pregnancy.
It was a hard blow to take. For about 24 hours, I was on top
of the world. I had received the voicemail from the nurse, telling me it was
positive, but she didn’t give me the number. I was so happy and grateful that,
at last, I was able to start my future. I called Keith right away and he was
happy too. For that one day, I thought about all the highs and lows that would
come, but knew it would all be worth it to have my baby. But, of course, that
feeling didn’t last. I started to think about how I’d had those low positives
right around New Year’s that delayed the start of my cycle initially. I started
to get a little paranoid, so I bought a home pregnancy test (which, of course, they
tell you not to do). It was negative, but that wasn’t the end of the world,
because I knew that the blood test would show positive before a home test. But
it prompted me to email Dr. K. to ask the level. When he said it was only 9.9,
I suspected we were in trouble. Normally, they’d like it to be over 25, but I
went a day early (due to the never-ending snow in NYC this winter), and so it
wasn’t surprising that it was low. But my joy and hope was tempered
significantly.
Friday dawned and from the start, the day was a disaster.
There was more snow, and public transport was a mess. Traffic and crowds made
the bus impossible. I tried to get in the subway, but the platform was so
crowded, and trains delayed, that I couldn’t get on one. So I walked, about a
mile and a half, over ice and through slush, to get to RMA’s midtown office. Of
course, once I got there, I had to wait over an hour just to have my blood
drawn. It was so crowded, there were no seats (and it’s a big office). When it
hit 9:00, I knew I’d never make it to my 10:00 class up in the Bronx, so I
emailed the students that I wouldn’t be there and gave them an assignment to
make up the class so we wouldn’t fall behind (the snow has wrought havoc with
the schedule this semester). When I finally got out of the doctor’s office, I
actually chose to walk home because I wanted to try to walk off some of my
frustration.
In retrospect, it’s just as well that I didn’t make it to
class. The call from Dr. K with the bad news came at 11:15, exactly the time I
would have been finishing class. Given the tears that followed, I would not
have wanted to get that call at school. Once the bulk of the tears had been
shed, I called Keith and talked things through. He helped me gain perspective,
and refocus on the next step, rather than dwelling on what had gone wrong.
After we spoke, I arranged an appointment with Dr. K to talk about that next
step, and even applied for some jobs for the Fall, in case I don’t get pregnant
over the next few months.
Dr. K and I met on Wednesday, and we agreed to a plan for a
new IVF cycle. Since I did produce more eggs this time, and I technically got
pregnant, it seemed worth trying one more time to get pregnant with my own
eggs. Even Dr. K said he was a little more optimistic since I’ve shown that I
can get pregnant (although my odds are still probably only 20%). If this cycle
doesn’t work – either I don’t get enough eggs, or I do but embryos don’t
implant, then we’ve agreed that it will be time to move on to egg donation.
Egg donation has taken on a slightly different complexion
too. As I mentioned, I am on the waitlist, which has apparently expanded to
about 8 months, so that would put us in August (Happy 40th!) –
that’s a whole year since I started trying. But, Dr. K told me Wednesday that
they have just signed on with an Egg Bank, which would mean, like the Sperm
Bank, I could just select a donor and buy the frozen eggs. No wait time like
with a fresh donation. There are two catches, though. First, the success rate
with frozen eggs is lower than with fresh (but still much higher than with my
own eggs). Also, it is a lot more expensive than regular egg donation (which already
costs a fortune). But, the bank has a money-back guarantee that, if you don’t
have a baby, you get almost all your money back. So that’s a positive.
So, the question arises, do I front the extra cash to be
able to try sooner than August, with the comfort of knowing I get my money back
if it fails. Or do I save the money and wait the extra time? I think we’ve
established that time is not on my side here.
So, time versus money. Which will I miss more?
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