After three years of secondary infertility, countless blood draws and ultrasounds, several failed embryo transfers, two pregnancy losses, and a fresh round of IVF, I’m finally pregnant with my third IVF baby.
But that still feels weird to say out loud, when it’s been hard enough to believe for myself.
I should say that this experience has been nothing like my previous attempts at getting pregnant. Following years of heartbreak and (unexpected) IVF failure after the birth of my twins in 2018, I took an indefinite break from treatment, unsure of what our next steps would be.
It had all become too much, especially with two kids under five at home.
So, I took some time. Time to heal physically and emotionally. Time to decide what my limit was when it came to trying for a third child. Time to process whether we wanted to risk ending up heartbroken…again. And time to revisit the already too-large age gap that I hadn’t envisioned for our family.
I took a self-proclaimed “hormone holiday” and focused on nourishing my body and my mind during this time. I worked closely with a Registered Dietitian, attended weekly acupuncture sessions, never missed an appointment with my therapist, switched to low-intensity exercise, and added nutrient-dense foods to my diet.
After a few months, I finally felt like “me” again. And while I gained a renewed sense of hope in the process, it also made the decision to jump back into IVF that much more daunting.
Then, my nephew was born, and everything changed. I saw how much my kids doted on him, and suddenly, the almost 6-year age gap didn’t feel so wide anymore. I held him in my arms and immediately knew I wanted to experience that again. We had always wanted three kids, and I quickly realized that the desire hadn’t gone away, despite all the healing work I had done.
So, with one round of IVF left on our insurance, my husband and I decided to move forward with one final attempt at growing our family. If it wasn’t successful, we would stop trying. It would be difficult, of course, but if the previous year had taught us anything, it’s that we would be okay — in fact, more than happy — moving forward as a family of four with no regrets.
For all of these reasons and more, my mindset surrounding IVF completely shifted.
We went back to our original doctor, who had helped us conceive our twins. We did a new egg retrieval cycle, which yielded (surprisingly) stellar results. On the morning of my frozen embryo transfer, my physician surprised me by performing the procedure, even though it wasn’t her day in the operating room. And nine days later, I was pregnant, with strong, doubling hCG levels to show for it.
Today, at 36 weeks pregnant, I still can’t believe all of the stars aligned to get us to this point.
From the first flicker of a heartbeat at six weeks pregnant to a “perfect” anatomy scan at the halfway mark, this child has given us no reason to believe that he won’t be joining us earthside in December. But, I will admit, sometimes it still feels like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
After years of infertility and pregnancy loss, I’m so used to receiving bad news that I’ve become conditioned to expect it. It took me so long to get pregnant (and stay pregnant) that this pregnancy has felt too good to be true from the start.
But, through countless weeks of therapy, I’ve come to learn that there is productive worry, and then there is unproductive worry. Unproductive worry is thinking just because it was a struggle to get here that, somehow, it will be stripped away from me at any given moment.
Productive worry is making sure our baby hits all of his milestones, scheduling extra prenatal appointments, and taking a daily prenatal vitamin. It’s making sure that all of the boxes are checked off to ensure the healthiest possible pregnancy, from prenatal testing to non-stress tests.
The truth is, today, I am pregnant, and our baby is healthy.
He will be here by Christmas, and I deserve to be just as thrilled as everyone else to share our happy news. After all, we worked extremely hard for this.
So, instead of living in the future, I’m choosing to honor the trauma I endured to get to this point while focusing on all of the positive signs we’ve received so far on this journey. I’m giving myself grace in managing my anxiety rather than focusing on getting rid of it. And I’m finally letting myself relax and enjoy the experience I’ve waited so long for.
If you’re navigating the uncertainty of pregnancy after infertility and loss, I see you.
This experience can feel a lot like holding your breath for 9 months, but remember: two things can be true at once. This can be really hard, but it can be really beautiful, too.
Kristyn Hodgdon is the Co-Founder and Chief Creative Officer at Rescripted.