Failing IVF is painful. Being unsuccessful after all the effort you put in really sucks. Even the words, failure, failed, failing all make me feel depressed. I’m sure that you’ve either heard of or are someone who has had a failed cycle. Or perhaps even worse, you didn’t find out until years later because they didn’t want to talk about it. Three weeks ago, I was a confident (read cocky) donor egg recipient who was sure that I had done “all the work” and that this, my second round, would surely be as successful as my first. Unfortunately that wasn’t to be the case.
We had a failed transfer. A failed FET – Frozen Embryo Transfer.
Preparation
Everything looked good. My lining was a lovely 9.3mm, my oestrogen levels were perfectly fine at around 200 whatever the measurement is, and the embryo was a healthy ‘extended blastocycst’. Additionally, I did everything that my clinic suggested, same as last time and acupuncture to boot. I didn’t expect we would fail. But we did. That little embryo didn’t stick to my lining.
A blastocyst - "An embryo which has developed to the point of having 2 different cell components and a fluid cavity"(Source Advanced Fertility
It’s disappointing to say the least. At first I was “gutted”. Devastated is going too far, as I already have a 17 month old, Miss J. But despite having my gorgeous little one, I want a sibling for her. I want her to grow up with someone she can play with, and just as importantly have someone her age around when my partner and I no longer are. I know it’s a morbid thing to think, yet that would likely be the reality if she ends up an only child.
I’m not sure when I decided that it’s all my fault, but somewhere between resting in bed, giving implantation it’s best shot, and having my first blood test, it became my fault. This failure was my doing. My fault that this baby didn’t stick and that the months of preparation somehow weren’t enough.
Perhaps really, though, the embryo wasn’t ready. Perhaps there was some issue that the embryologist could never have known was there, despite the good growth of that extended blastocyst. That’s even better than a blastocyst.
We Will Never Know Why We Failed
Whatever it was that wasn’t right, I will never know. My partner will never know. The clinic, they also don’t know. I guess that’s why it really is a miracle despite human intervention. The perfect conditions can be created and still baby doesn’t take and the pregnancy doesn’t eventuate.
So after “gutted” and disappointed, then I wondered if I was actually going through stages of grief for our IVF failure. Even though baby hadn’t yet become a baby I was pretty (read very) attached to the outcome. For several hours, maybe a day, I was in denial. Surely the first test was wrong and the next one would prove right. However my emotions didn’t morph into anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance (source, grief.com). Or maybe I’ve just jumped straight to acceptance. Now I’ve rapidly found myself in place where I want to invest more in myself (for now).
Investing in Me. Failure Leads To More Self Discovery
Over the past 2 years I’ve been at least 90% focused on my baby girl. Providing a safe, nurturing environment in utero, and then the best I could provide since birth. The usual sleep deprivation and working it out that a first time parent suffers through. All the questioning myself, feeling judged by other people/mums/parents for my choices – let’s not even get started on the different perspectives around baby’s sleep. Adding to the challenges, Miss J’s multiple food allergies and her strong, assertive will.
All of this has meant that I haven’t given much back to myself. I’ve certainly tried to many times. I’ve re-started yoga, I’ve attempted to kick start meditation again, I’ve had massages, gone back to the pool, had acupuncture (admittedly with a second child in mind), carved out a little time for myself here and there. But overall, I’ve given more of myself to this little person and our family and keeping things ticking over and not saved much for me. Now that Miss J is more self sufficient, happy to be at day care, and loving spending time with her Papa, it’s time for me to make space for me.
As you can see, I’m blogging again, I’ve booked in my yoga time, swim times and building in meditation time is next on my list. And writing this here makes me accountable to myself to not only book those activities in, but to get myself into them. I am hopeful that when the time comes to take on the next cycle my internal battery will be fully charged and I’ll be ready for another 2 years of intense baby building and supporting. So the emotion I’ve settled back to is hope. Hope for another chance with another potential baby and if that doesn’t eventuate, knowing that I’m still okay with me.
You Are Not Alone
If you’ve had a failed IVF cycle, I understand what you’ve been through/are going through. It’s so tough when you don’t have anything to show for your grief. When you put yourself through months of intense drugs and come out the other side having withdrawal symptoms and no pregnancy that was so hoped for. I hear your pain and suffering and want you to know that it is devastating. You have a right to grieve and weep and be angry and have whatever emotions you have about it. And beyond those emotions there can be hope and happiness and peace. It may take time but those emotions do exist for you. Feel what you are feeling and know that you are not alone. Much love x
