Fertility

"You have 'X'% to conceive naturally" - stated Dr F with a slam.

Let's backtrack

End of 2018, two of my best friends shared their incredible news of being pregnant with me. I was ecstatic. We had all wanted children at some point in life, perhaps now was the time. All I could think about was raising our babies together. Well kinda, as we all lived in three different continents: America, Europe and Asia. My husband and I had actually just come back from Tulum, which at the time was on the list for 'Zika’ destinations. Back then, the CDC had recommended *not* to have unprotective sex or attempt to conceive a child within three months of visiting certain countries. Okay, it worked for us. We would ring in the first three months of 2019 by having lots of fun and start attempting to get pregnant in the spring of 2019. A pretty solid plan in our minds.

January 2019 and a new health insurance plan kicks in which usually means all our annual check ups are done. I had my OB appointment which brings us to March 2019. We find ourselves sitting in a consultation with a Reproductive Specialist. This certainly wasn’t how I envisioned starting my pregnancy journey. The Doctor was providing us with his clinical expertise. I could feel myself blanking out. I felt myself sinking in the largely uncomfortable gray chair. It felt like someone had pulled the rug from beneath my feet [insert the scene from 'Get Out' where he falls endlessly into the dark pit]. I tried to stare the Doctor out. I didn’t want him to see my emotions but tears rolled down my cheeks. At that moment, I felt like a frozen ice sculpture not being able to move. I remember my eyes just flooding with tears just like the first time I watched Mufasa die in 'The Lion King' (hurts every time). It finally made sense to why doctors kept a box of tissues on their desks. My husband mopped up the stream of tears running down my face. I left the office completely heartbroken. In that moment, I felt like a total failure, as though my birth right of becoming a mother “naturally” had been snatched from me. Looking back, emotions had taken over full throttle. Before then, it never crossed my mind on how I would have felt if I couldn’t carry my own child. I was drowning in my own thoughts and the feelings were taking over me.

The drive home felt like the longest and the rain hitting our windscreen silenced my tears. I couldn't even lock eyes with my husband. I felt so low, ashamed and embarrassed. I had heard the words spoken by the doctor but I interpreted them totally differently. I actually walked out of that office not remembering much of the statistics he had thrown our way. My brain was running all over the place.

I had always wanted to be a mum. As a child, people would ask; ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?' I would reply; ‘A babysitter'.

Bare in mind, I must have been seven years old but regardless this was a role I wanted my whole life. To be surrounded by kids ALL DAY. Spoiler alert - I ended up coming to America to practice as a peadiatric Occupational Therapist. Also a fun fact, on my second date with my hubby, I straight up asked him his thoughts on adopting children. It totally caught him off guard whilst he tried to swallow the piece of sushi he stuffed in his mouth, followed by a swig of sake! So you get the point, I REALLY wanted to be a mum.

My husband knew the thought of IVF alone had shattered my world.

After a few weeks of going back and forth between trying to conceive naturally, adoption and IVF we found ourselves at the doorstep of the fertility clinic once again.