FET #3: Two week wait and results

Our third (and last) frozen embryo transfer (FET) was on Friday, January 20…13 days ago.

A hyper-speed recap of what brought us here: I found out I have half a uterus (unicornuate uterus) in spring 2018. Around that same time, I also learned that I had diminished ovarian reserve (aka: not many eggs left) and poor egg quality. For a woman in my early 30s at the time, I felt pretty discouraged about the likelihood that I would conceive and/or carry a baby to term. My only shot at having a baby was via IVF. The first fertility doc I went to essentially shut me down and said I was too big of a risk (for his clinic’s sparkling statistics, essentially) to take on for IVF. The second doc I went to, Dr. Bush (unfortunate, or completely perfect, name for his line of work, if ya ask me) at Conceptions in Littleton, CO, completely believed in me and willingly accepted me onto his caseload. I also think he wanted to say “suck it” to his cross-town competitor when he could knock me up (via IVF, of course) and get me my baby.

Well, Dr. Bush did just that. We did two cycles of IVF, got three genetically normal embryos, and did our first FET in February 2019. Our very first FET was a success and, after a very complicated and stressful pregnancy, led to the birth of our baby boy in October 2019.

The first few months of our baby’s life was chaotic and beautiful. Survival mode and rainbows. Bonding and sleep-deprivation. And then COVID. And then more survival mode. A couple cross-town moves. Some very sad losses in our family. New jobs. A growing kid. Yadda yadda yadda.

Then, after waiting the recommended two years post c-section, we did our second FET in February 2022. We got pregnant, but we eventually found out at the 7 week ultrasound that the embryo didn’t develop. Miscarriage…ish? Is it a miscarriage if the embryo didn’t develop but the gestational sac did? I don’t know. Either way, we were super bummed.

Now we’re back at present day. January 2023 and our last FET.

Everything went smoothly the day of the transfer. I took my Valium and drank 32 oz of water within 15 minutes about an hour before the transfer (all y’all FET peeps will absolutely know what I’m talking about). After the transfer, I basically slept for the next 24 hours - the Valium really knocked me out…or maybe I was just relieved that I made it to and through the transfer and I could finally say I fought the good fight and did all I could do…or both. Yeah, probably both.

Then we waited.

The two-week-wait wasn’t as terrible as previous two-week-waits. I think it was because, for the most of it, I felt completely neutral with the outcome. I would’ve been fine either way. In fact, the prospect of not being pregnant would have been a lot easier to accept than being pregnant. An easier, more predictable future. And the idea of being pregnant…that I would be going through another (probably tough) pregnancy…and gaining a ton of weight (again…in addition to my first pregnancy gain then COVID gain and then mid-30s gain and general love-for-food gain #recoveringeatingdisorder #stillrecovering)…and raising another human…and figuring out how to balance work and finances and my sanity with two children…scared me shitless. (Should’ve thought about that before the transfer, maybe? Hee hee.)

Then, in the last couple of days before our first beta hCG pregnancy blood test, I started to feel less neutral. I started to grasp at and cling to and hope for a pregnancy. I wanted it to work. I needed it to work. I started to feel desperate for a positive and feared a negative.

On Monday, January 30, I went in for my first blood test (I thought the first one was February 2, but I was wrong!).

That afternoon, I received a call from my nurse…my hCG levels were 90.1. This was great! They needed to be between 50-100 at 10-days post-transfer. I was relieved and happy…but also continued bracing for disappointment at any point. The number needed to at least double by my second blood test a couple days later.

Then today, February 2, the day after my 37th birthday (#oldlady), I had my second blood test. Got the call. Positive again! And the email I read and re-read and re-read: “Congratulations on your positive pregnancy test!!! We are all so happy for you! Your beta hCG result today: 329 (Up from 90.1). Your estimated due date will be October 8th. Today, you are currently 4 weeks and 4 days pregnant. You will change gestational weeks every Sunday. (So this Sunday you will be 5 weeks pregnant!).”

So, I’m pregnant. Very, very early in the pregnancy. And cautiously optimistic.

More than anything, I’m just glad we got to this point. Another hurdle jumped thanks to love and support and grit and access to great medical care. I know not all people in my boat have the chance to become a living science experiment.

Up next, another blood test on Monday per my request (just to make sure the hCG levels continue to rise) and an ultrasound towards the end of February and, if all goes well, another baby in October.

And if this pregnancy ultimately miscarries, I’ll be okay. I know that for sure. And I’m totally okay talking about it. This is a process, and I’m not timid to share every step of it (#breakthestigma). Ask me questions, send me messages…even if I miscarry…especially if I miscarry.

PS: I’ll still be getting bangs and (maybe) a nose ring, even though the FET worked. Time to mix it up and embrace this late-30s stage. #identitycrisis