The first thing Dr. N said to me was how stunned she was by the test results. She had been certain that it would work and couldn’t believe that it hadn’t. I think everyone, from me and S all the way down to Dr. N and my two favorite nurses let themselves cross over the line for this one. They left their professional detachment behind, and us…well…let’s just say, S and I will be striving towards some sense of detachment ourselves as we move forward.
As for what went wrong, apparently we just fell on the wrong side of the 50-50 odds.
The good thing is that now we know that my eggs and his sperm can indeed tango together nicely, which we couldn’t be sure of during the IUI cycles. Of course, we did ICSI, which sort of forced the issue, but his boys did the job they needed to do (with some help). I responded perfectly to all the drugs and had a high rate of fertilization. Normally, they expect to see 10% fertilize. We had 14 out of 16 fertilize, and of the 14, 10 of them made it to blastocyst stage…and high quality blasts, at that. There is no real way to know why they didn’t implant. It could have been a genetic quirk. It could have been too much/too little oxygen or something else in the lab, it could have been something in the medium they use to grow them. But, she said even looking back, there is nothing she would have done differently and nothing that she would recommend changing.
She fervently hopes we’ll go ahead with the FET cycles, as she felt very positive that with one or two more tries, it will happen. She said there’s a reason those shared risk plans are set up to have three cycles, because the success rates are never over 50% and I think she rarely gives anyone 50-50 odds like she gave us. And she kept coming back to the fact that this cycle was about as textbook perfect as you could get, even the mild OHSS was a good sign.
Anyway, the FET cycle is much easier. Birth control pills, then a baseline sono to start the lupron. Do that for two weeks, then a blood check and sono to start oral estrogen with the lupron for two more weeks, then a sono and drop the lupron and add in PIO for a couple of days. Then, anytime we want during the fifth week after starting the lupron, we do the transfer. They thaw the two best the morning of the transfer. If something goes wrong with either of them during thawing, they can thaw more, but they only thaw them as needed so none are wasted. Then, the two weeks after transfer go just like this last time, one pill, one shot. No stimulation at all, so no bloating, no pain, no OHSS. No swollen ovaries, no squashed bladder. Only one shot a night for the whole cycle. $2545 covers everything except the drugs and those should only be a few hundred dollars.
We can start it whenever we want, either right away, or we can wait a bit. I’m not sure what I want to do. I’m definitely still mourning this loss and it feels a little wrong to just jump into trying again. I feel like I should be able to get through at least one day without tearing up before I move forward. On the other hand, that clock is ticking so very loudly and every week that passes….
I am still so greatful at how well our one and only IVF cycle went. As devastated as I am at the outcome, I have an equally huge sense of relief and accomplishment (even though I didn’t really DO anything) at the outcome we did have. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about those eight frozen embryos, waiting. I know the success rates for FETs and I know how many families have been completed through them. Believe me, I don’t need to be reminded of my good fortune in that regard. For me, though, it isn’t just a simple matter of dusting myself off and jumping back into the stirrups. It isn’t as simple as being relieved that I don’t have to face the stims and all that goes along with that. This time was different. Yes, the negative results of all of those clomid cycles and IUI’s were heartbreaking, but we never really knew then. There was no way to tell if sperm met egg, if cells were dividing and growing. We hoped, but there was always a significant margin of error. This time, we knew. We had pictures. Two perfect bubbles put back, where they could be safe and warm and grow. And they didn’t. And that, my friends, is tearing me up inside. So, I’m not sure yet when I’ll move forward to the next stage. I’m sure it won’t be long, but I think I need to find my footing first. This isn’t a 50 yard dash, it’s a marathon. I’ve been running it now for almost two years and I’ve hit a wall. To belabor the metaphor, I need to drop back, adjust my stride, and then I’ll be ready to push on to the finish line.
You are a wise woman. Adjust your stride, take your time, those little ones will be waiting for you when you are ready.
I think that all of us who follow you are in a state of shock. But you have such a positive attitude, and I know you’ll take the time you need before starting again. I just am so encouraged by you and know you’ll have little ones soon.
10% fertilization rate with ICSI? That can’t be right. I thought the fertilization rate was just a bit lower than with regular IVF, on average that is.
If you nead a breather, take one. Hang in there.
100,000 hugs.
“10% fertilization rate with ICSI? That can’t be right. I thought the fertilization rate was just a bit lower than with regular IVF, on average that is.”
Ok, well, that’s what I have written down in my notes from our consult. I was crying at the time, so it’s possible that I either heard wrong, or wrote down the wrong number. Either way, she was impressed that almost all of our viable eggs fertilized AND just over half of those made it to blast stage.