Maybe, Baby?

This is beautiful and so close to home. We’ve more or less given up and I’ve written and spoken about this very little discussed avenue, so others who’ve also made this devastating decision . So anyone facing what I call, infertility grief, feels less alone. I’m on insta for anyone interested. ngozi_chione x

Thank you for this post. Yesterday I got the news that my 3rd round was not successful. I am feeling so hopeless and alone. This makes me feel a little less lonely.

This was me! 7 years ago. I distinctly remember my gyno telling me about my low AMH, 0.032 to be exact. She said, the train is leaving the station, it hasn’t left yet, but it is leaving soon.

6 unsuccessful rounds of IUI, and then my second round of IVF gave me my son. A year after my son was born, we did another round of IVF which resulted in a twin pregnancy, which I miscarried. 1 year later at the age of 40, 5 years after my low AMH diagnosis, pregnant naturally.

I never believed any of those types of stories would actually be me. Keep at it! Good luck. <3

I have low AMH, too, and am almost crying just reading this! 9 years of marriage, almost 4 dealing with infertility, we had a failed IVF cycle this March where we only got 4 eggs, all fertilized and none made it to day 3. We’ve just read It Starts with the Egg and are pursuing improving egg quality and my low AMH and embryo adoption at the same time. Praying that we can finally grow our family!

Let me start by saying, my heart goes out to this person. Conversations about infertility/miscarriages have been swept under the rug for too long, causing generations of women to feel shameful about it. I am happy to see these topics manifest in all my favorite blogs, news feeds, social media, etc. The community it’s created has connected so many women who are suffering in isolation.

On the other hand, this post made me depressed. I was just telling my husband last night I’m starting to have “fertility anxiety.” I feel like I can’t go one day without reading about how someone is struggling to get pregnant and I’m starting to get really stressed out about this happening to me. Anyone else?

I’m 31 and we want to have kids in a few years. It wouldn’t be bad if it happened now but we’re not ready and would like to wait. I’m healthly with no history of infertility in my family. Plenty of my friends and coworkers have had kids through their late 30s-40 with no problems so I try to tell myself to relax. I don’t mind being an older parent.

I don’t know if I should just chill out and wait like I want to. Or maybe, more people than I think struggle with infertility and I should start now just in case?! Is it media distortion or a legit concern? My friends who all got pregnant 10 years ago love to tell me my eggs are dying every second! I’ve got an angel and devil on my shoulder, shouting in both ears. Can’t come to a conclusion on what to do.

Much love to you and your husband Jessica! Low AMH here as well, at age 34. Six unsuccessful IUIs, one unsuccessful IVF and one successful round with our only embryo:) Feel free to ask any questions if you like: it can be so lonely. I am thinking of you!

We’ve been trying for 10 months. Low AMH, two rounds of letrozole, two IUIs, no success. I have what is called “pre-unexplained infertility.” But once we reach a year, it will just be infertility, and when we get there, we will start a first round of IVF. I’m only 31. No one thinks they will be the unsuccessful statistic, and I think I’m still in shock that I am one of those people. I’m lucky that we still have the option — both financially and medically — to do IVF, and my fertility doctor is absolutely confident it will work, but I feel so alone. Thank you for sharing this and helping me not feel so alone in this journey.

My wife and I started the process of having children about a year and a half ago. She was 36 at the time and I was 30 and we had planned to do IUI and have her carry the pregnancy with the idea that perhaps I would do so for a second child later on. We found out very quickly, that she had premature ovarian failure (which is a term in desperate need of a rebrand). So we wrapped our minds around doing IVF. This would mean using my eggs and putting the embryos in her uterus to carry the pregnancy, which was still a strong desire that she held. We later found out that I would have needed to use IVF of my own accord as my body does not ovulate well on its own. Because of this, my uterine lining doesn’t easily develop and so carrying a pregnancy might be more challenging. It was like a very sad modern Gift of the Magi situation.
We did one round of IVF this past winter which yielded 3 healthy embryos. One did not take, one did not make it out of freezing in good condition and the third took and then miscarried a few weeks later. I did another egg retrieval in May and we are holding out hope that this round ends in a healthy pregnancy and child.
I wanted to put this story out there because I wish I had heard more stories like it when we were starting down this unconventional path (and I was totally scanning COJ comments for any scrap I could relate to, which there were many). Infertility makes anyone feel so “othered,” but I think even more so in the queer community. People say strange things like, “so you’re the egg donor and she is the surrogate…” which is an odd way of minimizing each of our roles and not something that I think is as likely to happen with a straight couple using donor eggs and sperm. The list of foolish comments is long and maybe better suited to a comic!
While this is not the path we set out to take, it has gifted us with a deep gratitude to one another. On a deep level, we each would not get very far with this process on our own and the fact that we each are capable of providing what the other needs is rather miraculous. On a day to day level, we can complain about shots and ultrasounds and bloodwork to one another and actually have the other one understand what it’s like. Regardless of the outcome, this has brought a deep togetherness into our marriage unlike anything else could have.
I think parenting is full of curve balls for everyone, some of us get them before we are even parents, or we get them without ever becoming parents. I think a key part of what defines a parent is choosing to show up for whatever comes, even when it is so different from what you imagined.

Thank you so much for sharing! I was also diagnosed with diminished ovarian reserve when I was 30, and my husband and I spent the following 3 years in and out of fertility clinics. The whole process was maddening and crushing and OMG so expensive! It is difficult for people who don’t have first-hand experience with infertility to understand how hard it really is. There were a lot of unhelpful/hurtful comments, but what helped was having friends who would listen and validate my feelings. Sometimes the best thing you can say to someone is “I’m so sorry. That really sucks.” I’m almost 35 now, and with the help of an egg donor we now have a spunky, adorable one year old little girl. The struggle to build a family was the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced, but I would do it all over again. Big hugs to everyone, and good luck on your own journeys!

Virtual hugs to everyone!
My husband and I cannot conceive, he is not fertile and sadly he was always the one dreaming of having kids, even more than I did. We gave it a go for two years and then we got the bad news.
So we sat down at a nice cocktail bar one evening and had a brief, warm and honest conversation about our predicament.

We were both in (or approaching) our 40s, he travelled abroad every other week and I was struggling with a (undiagnozed) depression and a lack of support system that weighed heavily on my shoulders, as we lived abroad and far away from our friends and family.
The above also made adoption procedures near impossible. I mean, I would have to turn up to those meetings on my own and it was not the way I wanted this to be.
Early on and even before we got married I had also expressed my dislike for IVF, medical procedures, hormone therapies and all the picking and poking and the medications and the endless doctor’s appointments.
I know it works for other people and I am glad to see so many others find success in this way and welcome kids in their life, but I had decided early on that it was not something I wanted or that I could cope with.
Besides, to this day, he can hardly keep a dentist’s appointment without having to reschedule it 3 times due to his very hectic, unpredictable and stressful job.
We did not want our infertility to put an unbearable stress on our shoulders and ruin us emotionally and financially.
So we decided this was not for us. Do I feel guilt? Sometimes. Do I feel bad when people imply we should have kept trying by any means necessary? Sometimes, I do.
But then I realize that at least we were honest with ourselves and did not allow social pressure to dictate how or why we would make such significant decisions.
We have since learned to heal and nurture each other, to comfort and talk to each other and I would not trade this for anything in the world.

Oh, how I relate to the “unhelpful advice”. I heard it all during my 6 I.V.F.s (Try to relax, stop thinking about it, eat more of this, eat less of that, etc). I loved advice grounded in data though (I’m a scientist) (ie, trying acupuncture, baby aspirin, etc), but the “just relax” people… I wanted to scream.
My message to you: Don’t lose hope! My miracle baby was my 6th I.V.F., after 5 yrs of trying and I would do it all over again. He’s 6 now, and then just last week, the adoption agency I opened a file with, 8 yrs ago, called me with the news of a baby girl. I couldn’t go through with it, I am now divorced and my family situation has changed, but the point is, there are multiple ways of becoming a mother to a child. During all those years of trying, I felt like a mother without a baby. It’s cruel, it’s painful, and it’s unfair. What we go through during those years is devastating. But there is hope. Whether it’s fertility treatment or adoption, the roads can lead to motherhood, if your heart is open to both possibilities. I wish for your dream to come true and I will keep you in my thoughts. Xoxo

Oh man. Thank you so much for this. I’m 30, have been trying to get pregnant for 2 years and just TODAY was diagnosed with diminished ovarian reserve. This journey has been so tough in every way but I am so grateful for my husband and for the amazing, supportive community out there. I’m not sure what our life will look like either but I know we will be ok. We have each other. Thank you to each and every one of you for sharing your journey. I’m having one of the worst days of my life but your stories have lifted me up and made me feel less isolated. Take care everyone, we got this. Xo

I hope you reclassify this as motherhood, not design. Fighting to build a family is a deeply maternal act, and if for some reason it does not happen for this couple, this is still part of her motherhood journey.

My 10+ relationship with infertility was not pretty. How much money did I spend on pregnancy tests in bulk from Amazon? How often did we rob the joy from sex knowing it was only because I was ovulating? It is a heartbreaking affair that I wouldn’t wish on any other woman.
But, my bright spot – adoption. We decided to adopt via foster care and leave the constant painful reminders of my uncooperative body behind us. Just two weeks ago we welcomed our forever boy into our home, a precious, spunky 4 year old who needed us as much as we did him.

Wow. I really felt like I was reading my story in this. My husband and I married when I was 34 and he was 36. We started trying to conceive just a couple of months before the wedding and month after month my period would show up. I was also diagnosed with low ovarian reserve. And I recognize those supplements! DHEA, Ubiquinol, etc. I took the lot! We were very lucky that IVF (ICSI) worked for us. Expecting a baby girl at the end of August. I’m wishing her the very best. She’s not alone in all of those feelings. I’m so glad she has a supportive and wonderful husband.

I am going through the same thing myself and this is so accurate. Thank you for this. Hugs to everyone needing one right now!

The timing of this is perfect and just what I needed today. Thank you.

Friendly reminder here that deciding to have kids is not the same thing as “starting a family.” You likely already have a family. Two adults can be a family. A bunch of weirdly close roommates can be a family. People without kids have a family. Not all families have children. Phrasing it that way implies everyone without kids (by choice or otherwise) can’t/don’t/won’t have families.

My wife and I have been married for almost 5 years and went through several rounds of IUI with a miscarriage sprinkled in there. I second the comments I’ve seen about the need for a deeper discussion about this among queer couples or couples that need egg or sperm donors. The cost of IUI and IVF is astronomical as-is, then factor in the cost of potential “specimen” each time. Not to mention how stressful timing becomes in these circumstances. For example, through the California Cryobank (one of the most well-regarded banks in the US) You have to pick the specimen up between 9:30-4 during the week, although the cryobank is open for calls at 6:30. Then you have to ensure you are picking it up within 5 days of ovulating etc.

I’ll leave it at that, but it really becomes such a stressful experience and at the end of the day feels like you are burning money. Add this to your existing infertility woes and it’s ROUGH.

What is going on in our society if we are “surprised” by infertility at 37?

I understand that this is in no way an emotionally-supportive comment, but this post reminded me that there is such a stark misalignment between the fact that we have a large body of data charting fertility rates and yet our generation constantly thinks that the statistics will not apply to us.

Careers, relationships, travel and social opportunities are all moving at such a different pace. The misalignment between social factors and biological factors huge and often insurmountable. No one is to blame.

I do think at a systems level, we are really struggling to figure out how to talk about this divide in a non-offensive way. I’d love to hear what other women think.

I too experienced unexplained infertility years ago. I did successfully have one child (would’ve liked two, but wasn’t in the cards.) I’m not wanting to give unsolicited advice, but posting here for those reading the comments & going through it now. My new doctor has done a ton of research on thong underwear & she is convinced that there is a strong link between unexplained infertility & wearing thong underwear. I haven’t looked into this further because I am no longer in that life stage, but she also recommends women entering peri-menopause/menopause not wear thongs. I guess infections etc. can happen, that don’t really show symptoms, but can effect ph etc. I’ve stopped wearing thongs. Obviously I understand that there are much bigger issues that a lot of women are facing, but for me, it was just unexplained. All test results came back “normal.” I definitely would’ve tried switching undies to help. My doc has anecdotes of women who’ve had to undergo rounds of antibiotics to clear up issues they weren’t aware of (causing a hostile environment) and were then able to get pregnant. I don’t want to downplay the larger issues, but I know I was desperate for info/options/answers when we were trying to get pregnant. Maybe this will help someone!?

Thank you for sharing this. I’m currently dealing with severe endometriosis and a low egg count. I’m in a limbo phase of waiting to see if my husbands new insurance will maybe, partially cover any of IVF. If not, we are taking the IVF journey by the horns. I was told I needed to probably do 2 rounds to be able to pull enough viable eggs.

I had a client once tell me, “I’m surprised that you’re having trouble getting pregnant.” As a Pilates instructor, I guess I’m supposed to be perfect.

I’ve recently started going to therapy for the first time. I have found it so helpful to talk to someone. Especially someone who isn’t directly invested in my outcome. I read somewhere that the grief you feel when you are dealing with infertility is similar to grieving a death. But instead its a death of the person you thought you were. That really helped validate my feelings.

My partner and I have been married for six years and are a point in our lives when children may enhance them. But, I’ve also been diagnosed with a medical condition which may make carrying a pregnancy difficult.

I really resonate with this post as a result. It’s the difference between thinking, imagining, acting, and doing. All of which we undertake in our journey to become parents.

I know that my partner and I will figure out the type of parents and partners we are — biological, adoptive, borrowed, aunt and uncle, etc. I don’t know yet which path we’ll take, but we’re in it together.

Thank you!

This blog feels so much like a Home for all women; it truly is beautiful. I’m sending a hug to all of you and I am just feeling the sisterhood.