Time and donor egg cycler

Time is the enemy of the IVFer in more ways than one. It erodes our reproductive longevity. It also robs us of our confidence in our remaining fertility.

Doctor Loverly’s “Let’s get you pregnant!” statement was still ringing in my ears, when the new-found baby hope – which was purely a result of finding a wonderful anonymous egg donor – began to show some cracks.

Finding hope in ART after a lengthy stay in the IVF wilderness poses a whole new set of problems; most evolving closely around the common themes of confidence, faith and guilt.

Somehow moving into the very unfamiliar territory as a future possible IVF success story sat most uncomfortably on shoulders which had previously been weighed down by a less than 3% chance of implantation. Ours was now a vastly different scenario. So high were our new-found chances, Dr Loverly had ordered us a single embryo transfer* on the grounds that if we transferred two embryos, we’d end up with “triplets” and Dr Loverly would “have a HEARTATTACK!”

Perhaps it was spurred on by guilt. Moving from the bottom of the ART dung heap to a triplet-avoiding situation in one foul swoop seemed somehow like cheating. I knew plenty who would only be too happy to be in my position. I felt hesitant and overwhelmed, leading others to suggest my feelings were indication of doubt over the whole donor situation – I was not doubting the choice to use a donor – and the suggestion was very annoying.

While it was true I had some questions about our clinic’s ability to handle a donor egg cycle, I had no qualms about looking at the possibility of giving birth to my own non-genetic baby. It was a no-brainer; without donor eggs there would be no baby at all. Still I resented the insinuation that somehow we had not thought deeply enough about this to have addressed any residual issues at least a thousand times over.

Having access to super-duper (read: “young”) eggs seemed to intensify the pressure. The old days of when no one was expecting success seemed so much easier on reflection. Now my slow moving, over-sized body no longer had an excuse to fail. The old ART chestnut of age had deftly been removed from the equation. I recalled that like so much of my life before infertility, I was much more comfortable with no or low expectations than with high expectations. My pre-donor days of thinking ‘brought in’ eggs would diminish all stress were long gone.

At least our appointment with Dr Loverly had uncovered the fact that our countdown to the cycle was to be cut mercifully short. At most we had six weeks until the egg collection. I set about finding methods to not let my mind cause me too much worry, while Wobbles went about finding new and creative ways to pay for the most expensive cycle so far.

We had concerns, but at least we had a plan. That all changed with an early morning phone call from the clinic. There was good and bad news; while the donor was still wanting to proceed with the cycle, she had some personal issues that meant she would need to delay the cycle by a month. For the first time we felt real fear as to whether the donor would ultimately proceed with the cycle. We had to find ways to keep faith in the donor and in our own selves.

Things felt like they were beginning to unravel. On the same day two dramatic things occurred; Wobbles’ father died and my neck, jaw, and face developed lumps. A round of blood tests would eventually clear me of mumps but not give an explanation of why I would feel so unwell for the next week. While Wobbles flew interstate to attend his father’s funeral, I remained at home trying to find wellness and contemplating our future baby’s life without grandfathers.

Fear and doubt began to get quite a foot hold. Had my diet been healthy enough? Had I been exercising enough? Were my various medical conditions under control? Had I been taking folate supplements for long enough? Should I have resumed acupuncture long ago? There had been all the time in the world, yet time seemed to be conspiring against us. I wondered how much time I would ideally need to prepare emotionally and physically. My answer left me in no doubt that no amount of time or preparation would ever seem like enough for perfectionist me.

Every worry, every fear, every doubt was being amplified tenfold. All the negative thoughts were causing serious blocks to our progress.

Each doubt raised many many questions of its own. We needed help. We needed answers. We needed to see Dr Loverly again.

The appointment was made. We did our best to hold onto our remaining hope.

[* In Australia single and double embryo transfers are standard practice. Triple transfers are undertaken by some clinics, but are relatively rare.]

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