A couple begins trying to conceive with excitement but after six months without success worry grows and they seek medical help.
Doctors discovered she had two tier and one closed tube leading to IVF, a successful pregnancy but constant high-risk complication and overwhelming fear throughout early prenatal care
Weeks 13 through 16 of pregnancy were a blur. I was constantly waiting for phone calls from my MFM team. Thankfully, with each call, I was met with positive news. It seemed like everything had been ruled out and it was just my placenta hormones that were off. However, after all those weeks of living in constant fear, we wanted a diagnostic test done to confirm the baby was okay. At 16 weeks, we decided to do an amnio.
I was terrified. I remember sitting in the room and squeezing my husband’s hand as the needle went through my stomach and into my placenta. I was watching my baby on the screen the entire time, begging the doctor, ‘Please be careful!’ We got through it. Everything was okay, but that week of waiting for the results was one of the hardest times for me. Being able to feel your baby inside of you is a beautiful thing, but when you’re unsure if your baby is sick or not it becomes heartbreaking.
shock turned to heartbreak as scans revealed their baby fatal condition forcing impossible decisions and deep grief while they struggle emotionally through the fear and isolation of early lockdown
On Friday, March 20th, 2020, one week into the pandemic SIP, we lost our son at 23 weeks. It was a multiple day process. My husband was able to be by my side the entire time, but we had to fight for it. Hours spent on the phone with some of the top hospital admin trying to navigate how to make it possible. This pandemic was new for everyone, and no one knew what to do. We were scared, overridden with grief, and in complete shock. My medical team dilated me on Wednesday using a spinal tap and laminaria sticks. We went home that evening and enjoyed the last few kicks of our baby boy. My husband had just started to feel him move.
On Friday morning, we went into Labor and Delivery. After some time, I was put to sleep due to my body being in danger. I had a septum that was making it hard for me to deliver. My baby boy and I went to sleep at the same time, and I woke up without him inside of me. We had about an hour with Cole before we had to say goodbye. It will forever remain the most heartbreakingly beautiful moment of my life. We held him in our arms and cried. He will forever be our firstborn.
The weeks following the loss are still a blur. I could barely get out of bed. It’s hard to try and navigate how to deal with postpartum without your baby, while also grieving his loss and being stuck at home during a pandemic. It wasn’t until my first postpartum period came 9 weeks later; I started to feel myself again. I started to gain hope.
We did PGD testing for the single gene defect on the remaining 11 embryos and we were left with Sven healthy embryos. Hope. We had SO much hope. This is what kept us going. Losing our baby was hard. It was probably the hardest thing we will ever have to go through as a couple. I just remember thinking, ‘I am SO grateful for science and technology.’ Without it, we wouldn’t have been able to identify Cole’s defect. We wouldn’t have been able to test our remaining embryos to ensure we, and our future children, didn’t have to suffer a loss like that again. We wouldn’t be where we are today, which is one step closer to a healthy pregnancy and baby.
Since our March loss, I have been through three more transfers. Our transfers in June and November of 2020 resulted in negative betas. I remember being so hopeful our first time trying after the loss. Our first transfer worked, so why wouldn’t our second? Well, I was quickly sobered by the reality of a failed beta. After weeks of nightly shots and lots of hope, we got confirmation we lost our boy embryo. We were heartbroken but reminded this happens. It wasn’t anything to be too alarmed by.
Our doctor remained hopeful and advised me to take some time to rest. We then ran a few tests and did an HSC procedure to ensure everything was looking okay. A late loss can be very traumatic for the uterus, so it was important for us to be safe, even if it meant more waiting. After a few more months we decided to move forward with another transfer. In November of this year, we transferred another embryo. Weeks of hormone injections, fear, anxiety, and hope lead us to our final beta day. Once again it was confirmed we had lost another boy embryo.
after heartbreak and failed IVF attempts, she keeps going exhausted but hopeful leaning on a caring community dreaming of a rainbow baby and refusing to give up
she hopes for a rainbow baby leans on supportive friends and keep going despite IVF struggles, loss and pandemic challenges.
