My IVF Journey: The Highs, the Lows, and the Lessons Learned

When my husband and I turned to IVF, I didn’t imagine the journey would be anything like what it became. Like many, I thought IVF might be a magical solution—complex but effective, a scientific marvel that could solve our struggles with conception. What I didn’t know was how physically, emotionally, and mentally challenging it would be.

Over the course of two clinics, three egg retrievals, five transfers and countless appointments, I learned that IVF is not just a treatment—it’s a journey. It is full of ups and downs, heartbreaks, and moments of fragile hope. I want to share my story to shed light on the realities of IVF, its unpredictability, and the lessons I’ve learned along the way.

Why We Turned to IVF

After losing Shiloh, I suffered from secondary infertility caused by the c-section that delivered her. I know—an oxymoron, right? How could I have a c-section if I’d successfully conceived and carried her to term? But Shiloh didn’t die because of my body; she passed away due to other complications. And now, here I was—unable to conceive again naturally and with no living child to hold. Imagine trying to explain that at your initial fertility consultation.

After losing Shiloh, natural conception never worked again. Month after month brought fresh waves of disappointment, and each failed attempt chipped away at the hope I had left. After years of heartbreak, we decided IVF was the next step.

It wasn’t a decision we made lightly. We knew IVF would be physically and emotionally exhausting, but we held onto the belief that it could give us the chance to complete our family. More than anything, IVF offered us something we hadn’t felt in a long time—hope.

Two Clinics, Five Transfers, and Countless Emotions

When I began my IVF journey, I didn’t fully understand the emotional rollercoaster it would entail. From the moment of egg retrieval to the two-week wait after each transfer, I felt every possible emotion—hope, anxiety, despair, and cautious optimism.

Two clinics later, with three egg retrievals and five transfers behind us, I had experienced it all. The two-week wait after each transfer was particularly grueling. It felt like time stopped, and the uncertainty consumed every thought.

Our first transfer was a mix of dread and surprise. I didn’t think I’d get a positive pregnancy test on the first try, but I did. For the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to hope that this might finally work.

The First Positive Test: A Fragile Hope

I still remember the moment I saw the positive pregnancy test after our first transfer. I was stunned. After the grueling two-week wait, I didn’t dare expect good news. It felt surreal to finally be pregnant after everything we had been through.

But joy quickly turned to fear. At 10 weeks, I experienced a full bleed. It was sudden and terrifying. I was at the movies when it happened, convinced I had miscarried. By the time we made it to the hospital, I had passed clots and couldn’t believe I was still pregnant. To my surprise, our baby boy was still there, wiggling on the ultrasound.

The doctors diagnosed it as a subchorionic hemorrhage—a condition I had never heard of but learned was relatively common. Although I was relieved, I remained cautious. The experience taught me just how fragile hope can feel during an IVF pregnancy.

At 15 weeks, we opted for a cerclage. There was no way I was going to lose our IVF baby to an incompetent cervix again! 

Learning from Loss: Navigating Heartbreak Again

We announced our baby boy at Christmas 2021. It was a beautiful moment, a glimmer of joy we were so grateful for. But just weeks later, during a routine checkup, everything changed.

I went in alone for my biweekly ultrasound, as my husband had to wait outside due to pandemic restrictions. The technician’s demeanor shifted as she began asking questions:

• “When was the last time you felt your baby move?”

• “Have you experienced any spotting or bleeding?”

I tried to convince myself it was routine, but deep down, I knew something was wrong. When the doctor came in, they told me the unthinkable: our baby’s heart had stopped.

In that moment, I felt utterly alone. My husband was on the other end of the phone, unable to be by my side. The thought of telling our family and friends—the same people we had just shared our joyful news with—was unbearable.

Eventually, I had the cerclage removed and underwent a D&C. Recovery in the labor and delivery unit, surrounded by the sounds of newborns, felt like an added cruelty. The grief was immense, but it wasn’t new. I knew this pain too well.

The Reality of IVF: It’s Not a Guarantee

After that loss, I found myself reflecting on everything IVF had put us through. People often talk about IVF like it’s a magical solution—as though science guarantees success. But the truth is, IVF is a tool, not a promise.

For every positive pregnancy test, there’s a two-week wait filled with anxiety. For every glimmer of hope, there’s the possibility of heartbreak. It works for some, and not for others, just like natural conception.

The hardest part is learning to hold onto hope while preparing yourself for every possible outcome. After each loss, I clung to the little things that gave me comfort. Sometimes it was a kind word, a supportive hand, or a meaningful keepsake to honor the journey.

Lessons Learned and Finding Strength

If this journey has taught me anything, it’s that resilience comes from the hardest moments. Each loss, while devastating, has strengthened my resolve and reminded me of the love I carry for each of my babies—those I’ve held in my arms and those I hold only in my heart.

I’ve also learned that it’s okay to ask for help. Grief is not a burden to carry alone. Whether it’s a support group, a trusted friend, or a keepsake that reminds you of your journey, healing comes in many forms.

Above all, I’ve learned that hope is a choice. It’s fragile and fleeting at times, but it’s also what keeps us moving forward. For anyone walking this path, know that your pain is valid, your love is eternal, and your story matters.

IVF is not an easy journey. It’s filled with hope, heartbreak, and everything in between. While it may not be the answer for everyone, it can offer a chance—a glimmer of hope where there once was none.

To those who find themselves on this path, know you are not alone. Your strength is unmatched, your love is endless, and your journey is important. Take comfort in the little things—moments of joy, reminders of hope, and the people who stand beside you through it all.