Today we are excited to have a guest post from our friend Theresa. Theresa is a 30 year old Speech Therapist, runner, blogger and lover
of humor. She is mid way through her first IVF cycle, but has been in
the infertility trenches for nearly 3 years. She tries to bring humor,
smiles and sarcasm to the journey of infertility. You can read her blog
at A Course to the Finish Line or follow her on Twitter @runnergrl819.
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Childhood dreams of wedding dresses, white picket fences and 2.5 children don’t usually include needles, ultrasounds and finding ways to schedule life around injections.
Mine didn’t.
And yet now that we are here, I feel more positive about success than I ever have.
Our road to IVF was not an easy one. In fact, we planned and backed out twice before finally moving forward. I still remember the day in the RE’s office 2 years ago as he told us that my husband had no sperm, and although it was comforting that the reason (previous testosterone therapy) was likely treatable, I should have known we were in for a long journey. Six months later we returned and had sperm to show for it, but only enough for an IVF, something I had only vague knowledge of. For the first of many times to follow, I was told to be patient.
My husband began a hormone regimen consisting of twice weekly shots of HSG in attempt to increase his sperm count. I consistently and obsessively took my temperature, tested for my LH surge, and hoped for a miracle. None came. As more months crawled by, I became more and more disappointed over the start of yet another cycle with nothing to show for it except pizza boxes, candy wrappers, tissues and worn out running shoes.
In January of this year, we revisited the RE for a formal IVF consult. Feeling better about at least having a plan, we tentatively set a date for mid April. But another road block popped up when my husband’s current doctor added FSH to the hormone mix, swearing this would in fact make the difference. Encouraged but heartbroken at yet another plan postponed, we waited, and amazingly, it worked. His count came back at nearly normal. We foraged ahead with an IUI with a new gleam of hope.
It wasn’t meant to be, and this time my own body was to blame. Before we could get the chance the cycle was canceled. As for myself, I was done being patient, and finished waiting. After 3 years, a year of hormone therapy, countless disappointments and a canceled IUI, we moved forward with the IVF and haven’t looked back.
Today, a few days before the first retrieval, we are hopeful. IVF is not a walk in the park, but it is the closest to achieving our dream that we will ever get, and after all of the waiting, we are more than ready. An IVF offers us something we feel like we might actually get this time: a chance.
We don’t know what the outcome will be, but we are taking this chance and running with it, hoping to find the end of the road soon.
