Monday, November 7th I returned to my infertility doctor (why do I even need one of those??) so he could read me the results of my bloodwork. The FSH had to be tested on the 2-3 day of my cycle so this was the soonest appointment I could get. As I again waited next to the empty chair in the doctor’s office, I was extremely anxious. In the back of my mind I truly was hopeful that he would come in and tell me that ACTUALLY my AMH was normal and that my FSH was healthy and I would have no problem creating life in the future.
I really thought that. Really.
But when the doctor entered the office he painted a very different picture from the one that was in my mind.
My doctor told me that not only was my FSH was 14 (too high) but that my AMH had come back now at .3.
No. These could not be my results. This was not the news I needed to forge ahead and create my happy, healthy family with my (nonexistent) husband.
But I still sat, stone-faced I presume, as the doctor continued to ask me if I understood what he was saying.
Did I understand? I wasn’t really completely sure at the moment what I was able to understand. I wanted to run out of there and forget about it all. That none of this happened and just live in my naive little world. Just continue living my life believing that I would have my family. Easily. Without any problems.
But that was not my story anymore.
The doctor wanted me to understand. After not receiving much of a reaction, he proceeded to tell me that with all of these results, there is not much he could do for me.
“Your train has left the station.”
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
At this point there was little chance that in a few years time I would still have eggs that would be strong enough to create a baby. Maybe not even that long. Maybe in a year. There’s no way of actually knowing your end date. The day where your basket is empty. And what I had left was not the best batch of eggs. There was no way for him to really tell what I had, how many I had, and what they were like. There are so many uncertainties and unanswered questions with infertility. Many of the choices you have to make are left up to chance.
Was I going to take this chance?
My options were freezing my eggs or choosing a sperm donor to try to conceive with and be a single parent.
Ohhhhh no. A single parent? No. I can barely afford myself living alone on my salary. What kind of life would I be able to provide for a child at this time? Not the one that I had PLANNED, that’s for sure.
I had a lot to think about. And I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Although I had an ultrasound to do in order to check on the cysts, I just jetted out of there. And once I got to my car I cried.
A lot. Loud. Angry cries.
I messed up.
Somewhere I had made the wrong choice to put me on this path to where I am now. I’m not supposed to be here. How is this my life? How are these the choices that I am left with? How am I supposed to create my much desired future with these odds and these results?
If you are reading this, either you or someone close to you is asking or has asked themselves these questions as well.
And there’s no answer.
The only thing to do is make the best choices that you can with the information you have.
In my mind I only really had two choices.
The first would be to learn how to live without the family I had planned. Figure out what to do with my life as a single woman. How would I make my life fulfilled now that I was on a different path than I have ever envisioned?
The second choice would be to freeze my eggs. I did not know much about the process. I knew of a couple people who had been through IVF with their partners, but I was not familiar with what the process actually was. I had never known anyone who had actually frozen their eggs. The other side to freezing my eggs was that it was very costly. I was having difficulty making ends meet already. I did not have a savings account. How would I fund this costly insurance policy for my future?
The difference between this and an insurance policy is that with the policy, you receive a pay out at the end (or someone does). With egg freezing there are no guarantees. It’s taking a leap of faith. Did I want to take that leap of faith? The doctor informed me that the whole process would cost $16,000 the most.
I didn’t have any idea where I would get that money. Is this the end? Do I just accept that I just need to be hopeful my eggs last long enough and are strong once I find the right partner?
I’m going to spare you a lot of my back and forth and what ifs.
I decided to freeze my eggs. Although my parents and a close friend offered to help me with the cost, I really wanted to do this on my own. It was important to me. I decided that living without knowing, “Well, what if I had frozen my eggs?” is just not something that I wanted to do or thought that I could live with. Some people may not think that 20-30% would be enough of chance to take. But my chances weren’t 0. That was all I needed to know. I would take my chances. Living with a failed attempt would be easier than living with the WHAT IF?
So I start my journey to freeze the bit of hope that I have left.