Well. It’s been a little over a week since we decided to go ahead and move forward with IVF. The cost is astronomical, but the end result – if successful – will be priceless. I had an amazing conversation with my mother in law and she said something that completely changed my perspective on the entire procedure.
She told me to take the cost out of the equation. She asked me, point blank, what we’d do if money wasn’t involved. Would we go through with it? Or would we keep trying IUIs or move on to adoption?
The answer was clear. Something this important shouldn’t be decided with dollar signs and interest rates. So…we’re doing it.
That said, because of my history of miscarriages – the medical term is recurrent pregnancy loss (RPL) – Dr. Landay suggested a series of blood tests to rule out genetic and chromosomal abnormalities that could cause embryos to not thrive. I’d already done a huge genetic work up before we started the IUIs, which tested for over 300 disorders that could be passed down to my children. I tested negative on EVERYTHING. From the big ones like Down’s Syndrome and Cystic Fibrosis to less common ones I’ve never even heard about. I’m not a carrier, which is a huge relief.
That said, there are several other chromosomal disorders that could render an embryo not viable and explain why I never make it past 5 weeks. So, Dr Landay suggested we test for them before moving on to IVF. I agreed – and we drew the blood for the tests today.
Eleven vials.
Eleven vials of blood. I have never in my life had that much blood drawn in one sitting. Don’t get me wrong – I handle blood draws really well. I never pass out; I never even get queasy. The worst part is I can’t bear to watch, so I just stick my arm out and tell them to do their worst while I stare at the floor opposite my arm. It’s never been a problem…but eleven vials of blood. Oh man.
The phlebotomist and I were joking all the way through it, mainly about my husband. He is not like me. Just mention blood work to Quincy and he passes clean out. It’s scary, but also kind of endearing – this huge 6’2″ man getting the vapors like a woman in an old silent film. He had to have blood drawn in the office before we started the IUIs and he was a big baby about it, turning white as a sheet and passing out not once, but twice.
That’s not me. I’m rock solid. I talk to my pheb the entire time, then hop up immediately without skipping a beat…except when they suck eleven vials of blood out of my veins. Then I get dizzy. Whoa, man do I get dizzy.
I was fine after a minute or two, never coming close to swooning like a man (see, I can say that!!!).
I’ll get the results in a week or so, but I’m really not concerned about them. I’ve been overcome with this strange peace of mind ever since we decided to go through with the IVF. Knowing there’s nothing more we can do on our own was actually a relief. I’ve given it all over to God. I have to believe that He’s lead me down this path for a purpose and that He has an end game. I may not be able to see it, but I have realized subtle changes along the way.
I’ve definitely grown as a person through all of this. Quincy and I have gotten closer as a couple, even though I’ve probably been a little harder to deal with, with all the hormones and mood swings and crying spells.
People say I’m strong. I don’t feel strong, but I do – finally – feel at peace. I’m in a better place about all of this than I have been in years. It feels good. Really, really good.
So, suck eleven vials of blood out of my arm. Charge me $22,600. Stick me with dozens of needles and put me in the hospital for a day. I don’t care. Bring it on.
We’re going to have a baby. A beautiful little miraculous rainbow baby. Praise the name of Jesus.
My Stork Got Lost 