Sunday, February 23, 2014

Apparently There is Such a Thing as "A Little Bit Pregnant"


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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