I’ll start by saying it probably doesn’t feel like winning when talking about IVF, but it’s all relative. IVF can be an insurance plan, a ‘this will probably happen eventually, but I’m tired of waiting plan,’ a last-resort plan, or something else.
After personally going through IVF and also having friends who cover many of the other IVF scenarios, the one thing I’ve learned is that it often feels like you’re losing even when you’re relatively winning.
If you’ve made it this far, you are likely interested in the topic, but I’ll issue a trigger warning just in case. I’m going to discuss my IVF experience in some detail.
Let me set the stage. I define myself as an overachiever—it’s my goal to exceed expectations. My approach to IVF was no different. I read everything there was to read about statistical outcomes, including multiple scientific research papers. And, still, I assumed my results would be better than average.
I approached it like a test. I knew many of my friends had done it and had succeeded; therefore, I naively believed it couldn’t be that hard and that I would also succeed. The issue is that I didn’t define success.
I was excited when I received my shipment of too many needles and concoctions to count. I embraced the bruises and bloating and went to countless appointments to check follicle growth.
They counted 20+ follicles each time. My blood work was great. I was managing the appointments well with work. I was definitely winning.
Although my egg retrieval was a high-level success, it was not a winning experience.
My clinic, while otherwise amazing, rushed me out after the procedure when I was still coming out of the anesthesia. I was in much more pain than I anticipated. And that pain persisted much longer than expected and ultimately resulted in ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome. Thankfully, it was a mild case and didn’t require hospitalization. But I will forever be skeptical of the ‘back to work’ the next day recommendation.
While in pain, I received several calls, each letting me know that fewer and fewer of my eggs were progressing. Some of the eggs that were retrieved weren’t mature. Some that were mature didn’t fertilize, and some that fertilized didn’t become embryos. This was expected, but my declines at each stage were greater than average. I was no longer excited. The test wasn’t fun anymore. I dreaded the final call about how many embryos were genetically viable.
I was ‘winning’ in that I had multiple viable embryos. Exactly enough to ‘almost’ ensure I had a live birth — based on all of my research. But I was disappointed, which is probably an understatement. The experience was anything but easy for me, and my doctor was telling me I should be thrilled with the outcome of hopefully one live birth.
Of course, I am thrilled. I did get a live birth — my amazing son and everything that I could’ve wanted when I started IVF — what should’ve been my definition of success from the beginning.
I wish I had read more personal experiences and fewer research papers before my IVF journey. So, I share this with the hope that someone else feels more prepared and, perhaps, defines success better than I did from the start.
At the end of the day, I won on a relative and absolute basis, and it’s still one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
