I never thought I would say this (or be able to understand how somebody else could feel this way): I’m so happy the fertility treatments didn’t work.
We very actively tried to conceive (TTC) for seven years, with four of those years costing us over $60,000 in failed medicated cycles (IUIs and five IVF transfers). While it was a significant hardship, the money didn’t compare to the emotional toll that infertility took on me. My husband was, thankfully, by my side through all of it and was very understanding, but those seven years were absolutely heartbreaking–earth-shattering, really.
Our first IVF transfer resulted in an early miscarriage, and that was the worst experience of my life. I was up so high after seeing our first positive pregnancy test that when it ended two weeks later, I fell so hard, fast and low. I spent months in a deep depression and riddled with anxiety.
After the fifth transfer, we decided to move on to adoption–even though we had one embryo left. I was terrified of this next move. As I knew the world of infertility but knew very little about adoption. God was pointing us toward adoption, and we couldn’t resist it anymore. Adoption after infertility seemed natural. We were lucky and found a wonderful adoption attorney who matched us with an expectant birth mother.
At 30 weeks, she had an emergency C-section and our attorney couldn’t get information from the hospital for hours. We didn’t know if he was dead or alive. Finally, we got the call that he was healthy and being well cared for in the NICU. We packed up our bags, drove across the state. We spent six weeks in a hotel while nurturing him. Six weeks waiting for him to become strong enough to come home with us. This picture shows the first time I held him. I think the overwhelming joy and instant bond we made with each other is visible. We recently “discarded” our remaining embryo. Leo was meant to be our son.