IVF Treatment Failure: When I knew I Could Never Have Children
I thought that I've died on 28 February.
My heart and soul seemed to have left my body, leaving behind a lifeless and empty shell of a being. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and disappear into a black hole forever. I couldn't move. I couldn't eat. I couldn't talk. I couldn't function.
Picture credits to www.freepik.com.
I was depressed and my world had collapsed. At the same time, my body was reacting with all kinds of psychosomatic symptoms. My tears couldn't stop falling; and I would cry till I get a splitting headache. My face was red. My nose was runny. I wanted to vomit. The room started to spin. I was going to faint anytime, and I told my husband 'please... ask the nurse to get me a bed.'
I was given a bed eventually, and I found momentary solace as I lied in it with my eyes closed. 'What happened to you, Ms Wong?' one of the nurses asked as she came to give me a blanket, but I couldn't muster energy to reply. She kept quiet when she noticed that I was crying with my eyes closed.
It has been two weeks since I've gone through In-Vitro Fertilisation (IVF), and my tummy has been subjected to 21 injections comprising 4 drugs with various concentrations. Some of the drugs sting; while some caused my skin to swell temporarily. I couldn't walk at my usual pace for the next 2 hours post-injection without feeling an ache. Sometimes, I had headaches and needed to pop a pill.
I was confident that I could make it work somehow if I follow my IVF treatment schedule religiously, obediently inject drugs daily, continue to eat healthily and keep my spirits high. Little did I expect that my journey would come to an abrupt end on 28 February when I did a blood test and transvaginal scan and we discovered that my follicles had no response to the drugs injected. Even my blood levels showed no increase in my hormone levels. My follicles remained few and small just like my baseline results, and I couldn't proceed to the next stage of egg retrieval surgery. Classified as a 'poor responder' of IVF, my treatment cycle was terminated and I was recommended not to try for another cycle as my follicles have no response to IVF drugs.
I knew there and then that this was it. I could never have children. If I've gone through the harshest and most invasive fertility treatment, and my follicles still did not grow even when stimulated with the maximum dose of IVF drugs, what other options are there for me?
From the beginning, my body has never been well set up for pregnancy. I've had irregular menses since I was a young adult as well as blocked fallopian tubes and low ovarian reserve during my reproductive years. My eggs were too few, too small, too old and too weak to support a pregnancy.
But I knew that I have done my very best to go against the odds and attempt to conceive.
I ate pills to regulate my menses.
I ate ovulation pills to force my body to produce more follicles.
I ate folic acid supplements to prevent pregnancy complications.
I went through my first surgery experience to unblock and widen my fallopian tubes.
I went through intra-uterine insemination (IUI) to aid natural conception.
Despite my intense fear of needles, I subjected my tummy to 21 IVF injections and countless number of blood tests adminstered on my arm and hand.
But they were all in vain. And so I grieve.
I grieve for the life that I will never have - that I will never become a mother or experience the joys of parenthood with YX, and that we wouldn't be able to add a little one into our family.
I grieve that I will have to carry on with life congratulating friends and younger relatives for their pregnancies, while being reminded starkly that I am way past my fertility prime and will never have my own.
I grieve that I will forever be known as the person with fertility issues, or the odd one in the family who just couldn't conceive.
The stars that led me through darkness
The fertility journey was truly an emotional roller coaster. At one point, it could bring you hope and motivation, but it could also lead you into darkness.
During this difficult period, my love for my husband grew insurmountably. I might be the one going through the pain of IVF, but he has been there supporting me in every way.
No man will ever imagine that they will one day have to hold an injection needle and pierce it steadily through their loved one's skin on a daily basis. The pressure to control the injection needle confidently was real, knowing that if he shivers nervously, I would be in pain. YX, who has zero experience with injection needles, handled it like a pro. He truly stepped up to the occasion.
Even when he was disappointed and sad in his heart, he stayed strong emotionally for me. He comforted me, cooked and encouraged me to eat, carried my bags, did all the talking and sharing of bad news to our family members for me, while I struggled to open my mouth or lift a limb. I never knew that sadness would cripple my ability to talk or move.
He loved me with all his heart even when I was lying there unattractively like a limp doll, my eyes swollen from the continuous crying and my skin looking all pale and grey. Do you know that sadness drains the natural colour of your skin, leaving your face a ghastly grey just like your mood? I know now.
My colleagues and friends were the most wonderful bunch. They showered me with a box of fruits to keep me strong and healthy during my injection phase. When they heard news that my IVF cycle was terminated, they sent me healthy food to show their care and concern for me.
My bestie Bev may be living all the way in Australia but she sent over a bouquet of sunflowers immediately to lift my spirits.
My mother-in-law came all the way to the nearest train station to pass YX some homemade popiah, which she knew I would enjoy.
She has been very sweet to me, and never once blamed me for not being able to produce a child for the family. She doesn't attempt to solutionise for us, knowing that YX and I would have considered and went through the various options for conception. Instead, she would text YX to find out how I was doing and encouraged us not to give up on the possibiltiies of future pregnancies.
What's next for us
As cliche as it sounds, time and the right people will heal the pain.
I may have gone into a dark world on 28 February, but I have since climbed out into light and gradually accepted reality as time passed. My skin is starting to have colour again; I eat better now and I am starting to smile. I could talk and occasionally joke, and well, I could write this blog entry.
If I ever feel a wave of sadness in the future as I watch friends and younger cousins set up their own families, I will come back to this blog post and remind myself that I have done the best I could to conceive. And beyond giving my all, I have also been very brave to overcome my fears in the process.
It is not the end of the world and life still has to go on.
I wanted to write this blog entry to honour my fertility journey, and put a proper closure to my emotions. My infertility is not something I want to hide from others like a dirty little secret just because it is not as honourable as a pregnancy or a gender reveal. My husband and I went through something difficult and life-changing together and it will forever be a story we carry with us into our senior years.
We are childless not by choice, but we knew we have done our best. There's no need to feel sorry for our situation, as life doesn't always go the way we plan, and perhaps having our own child may not be our destiny after all. Some of you may helpfully suggest that YX and I get a dog or a cat, or maybe consider fostering or adoption. While these are valid options, they're not in our life plans at the moment.
Moving forward, we would like to focus on leading the best lives that we can as a 'dual income, no kids' family. We will not let this setback define our happiness. If anything, it has allowed us to relook at our lives and see how we would want to live it differently as a childless couple. May God bless us in the other aspects of our lives as well, such as our health, our wealth, our freedom, our chance to do the things we love everyday and our relationships with others. Thank you.
Disclaimer: This is a personal, non-sponsored post, written based on personal experiences.
My heart and soul seemed to have left my body, leaving behind a lifeless and empty shell of a being. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and disappear into a black hole forever. I couldn't move. I couldn't eat. I couldn't talk. I couldn't function.
Picture credits to www.freepik.com.
I was depressed and my world had collapsed. At the same time, my body was reacting with all kinds of psychosomatic symptoms. My tears couldn't stop falling; and I would cry till I get a splitting headache. My face was red. My nose was runny. I wanted to vomit. The room started to spin. I was going to faint anytime, and I told my husband 'please... ask the nurse to get me a bed.'
I was given a bed eventually, and I found momentary solace as I lied in it with my eyes closed. 'What happened to you, Ms Wong?' one of the nurses asked as she came to give me a blanket, but I couldn't muster energy to reply. She kept quiet when she noticed that I was crying with my eyes closed.
It has been two weeks since I've gone through In-Vitro Fertilisation (IVF), and my tummy has been subjected to 21 injections comprising 4 drugs with various concentrations. Some of the drugs sting; while some caused my skin to swell temporarily. I couldn't walk at my usual pace for the next 2 hours post-injection without feeling an ache. Sometimes, I had headaches and needed to pop a pill.
I was confident that I could make it work somehow if I follow my IVF treatment schedule religiously, obediently inject drugs daily, continue to eat healthily and keep my spirits high. Little did I expect that my journey would come to an abrupt end on 28 February when I did a blood test and transvaginal scan and we discovered that my follicles had no response to the drugs injected. Even my blood levels showed no increase in my hormone levels. My follicles remained few and small just like my baseline results, and I couldn't proceed to the next stage of egg retrieval surgery. Classified as a 'poor responder' of IVF, my treatment cycle was terminated and I was recommended not to try for another cycle as my follicles have no response to IVF drugs.
I knew there and then that this was it. I could never have children. If I've gone through the harshest and most invasive fertility treatment, and my follicles still did not grow even when stimulated with the maximum dose of IVF drugs, what other options are there for me?
From the beginning, my body has never been well set up for pregnancy. I've had irregular menses since I was a young adult as well as blocked fallopian tubes and low ovarian reserve during my reproductive years. My eggs were too few, too small, too old and too weak to support a pregnancy.
But I knew that I have done my very best to go against the odds and attempt to conceive.
I ate pills to regulate my menses.
I ate ovulation pills to force my body to produce more follicles.
I ate folic acid supplements to prevent pregnancy complications.
I went through my first surgery experience to unblock and widen my fallopian tubes.
I went through intra-uterine insemination (IUI) to aid natural conception.
Despite my intense fear of needles, I subjected my tummy to 21 IVF injections and countless number of blood tests adminstered on my arm and hand.
But they were all in vain. And so I grieve.
I grieve for the life that I will never have - that I will never become a mother or experience the joys of parenthood with YX, and that we wouldn't be able to add a little one into our family.
I grieve that I will have to carry on with life congratulating friends and younger relatives for their pregnancies, while being reminded starkly that I am way past my fertility prime and will never have my own.
I grieve that I will forever be known as the person with fertility issues, or the odd one in the family who just couldn't conceive.
The stars that led me through darkness
The fertility journey was truly an emotional roller coaster. At one point, it could bring you hope and motivation, but it could also lead you into darkness.
During this difficult period, my love for my husband grew insurmountably. I might be the one going through the pain of IVF, but he has been there supporting me in every way.
No man will ever imagine that they will one day have to hold an injection needle and pierce it steadily through their loved one's skin on a daily basis. The pressure to control the injection needle confidently was real, knowing that if he shivers nervously, I would be in pain. YX, who has zero experience with injection needles, handled it like a pro. He truly stepped up to the occasion.
Even when he was disappointed and sad in his heart, he stayed strong emotionally for me. He comforted me, cooked and encouraged me to eat, carried my bags, did all the talking and sharing of bad news to our family members for me, while I struggled to open my mouth or lift a limb. I never knew that sadness would cripple my ability to talk or move.
He loved me with all his heart even when I was lying there unattractively like a limp doll, my eyes swollen from the continuous crying and my skin looking all pale and grey. Do you know that sadness drains the natural colour of your skin, leaving your face a ghastly grey just like your mood? I know now.
My colleagues and friends were the most wonderful bunch. They showered me with a box of fruits to keep me strong and healthy during my injection phase. When they heard news that my IVF cycle was terminated, they sent me healthy food to show their care and concern for me.
My bestie Bev may be living all the way in Australia but she sent over a bouquet of sunflowers immediately to lift my spirits.
My mother-in-law came all the way to the nearest train station to pass YX some homemade popiah, which she knew I would enjoy.
She has been very sweet to me, and never once blamed me for not being able to produce a child for the family. She doesn't attempt to solutionise for us, knowing that YX and I would have considered and went through the various options for conception. Instead, she would text YX to find out how I was doing and encouraged us not to give up on the possibiltiies of future pregnancies.
What's next for us
As cliche as it sounds, time and the right people will heal the pain.
I may have gone into a dark world on 28 February, but I have since climbed out into light and gradually accepted reality as time passed. My skin is starting to have colour again; I eat better now and I am starting to smile. I could talk and occasionally joke, and well, I could write this blog entry.
If I ever feel a wave of sadness in the future as I watch friends and younger cousins set up their own families, I will come back to this blog post and remind myself that I have done the best I could to conceive. And beyond giving my all, I have also been very brave to overcome my fears in the process.
It is not the end of the world and life still has to go on.
I wanted to write this blog entry to honour my fertility journey, and put a proper closure to my emotions. My infertility is not something I want to hide from others like a dirty little secret just because it is not as honourable as a pregnancy or a gender reveal. My husband and I went through something difficult and life-changing together and it will forever be a story we carry with us into our senior years.
We are childless not by choice, but we knew we have done our best. There's no need to feel sorry for our situation, as life doesn't always go the way we plan, and perhaps having our own child may not be our destiny after all. Some of you may helpfully suggest that YX and I get a dog or a cat, or maybe consider fostering or adoption. While these are valid options, they're not in our life plans at the moment.
Moving forward, we would like to focus on leading the best lives that we can as a 'dual income, no kids' family. We will not let this setback define our happiness. If anything, it has allowed us to relook at our lives and see how we would want to live it differently as a childless couple. May God bless us in the other aspects of our lives as well, such as our health, our wealth, our freedom, our chance to do the things we love everyday and our relationships with others. Thank you.
Disclaimer: This is a personal, non-sponsored post, written based on personal experiences.