What No One Tells You About IVF

1. A positive pregnancy test does not end all your problems. While seeing that first positive was extremely exciting, the huge crash of emotions after negative tests later on was practically unbearable. Now, as we move into more rounds I am still petrified of going through that emotion again. I am petrified to pee on that stupid stick knowing that either way the result could end up negative.

2. Telling people about your IVF decision may not be the best idea. While one might logically assume that those you choose to tell would be supportive and excited, there are unimaginably more people than you could guess that feel the need to voice their objections. Morally, medically, etc., people are more apt to share with you their own thoughts than you realize. There is the opposed camp, the "just relax and it will happen" camp, and the "let me tell you about my emotions and my own bigger problems" camp. No one going through IVF should have to deal with that. If a friend reaches out to share with you and you don't agree, just smile and nod.

3. IVF (and infertility) changes your life. I could have never imagined the impact this process would have on my life, and the lives of those experiencing it with me. My Turkey BFF often expresses emotions due to her "sympathy hormones" as she goes through the process with me. Certainly she does not view pregnancy the same way now as she did a year ago. As for me, I have come to a place where I am much more aware of the trials of others. The infertility and IVF process has opened my eyes to people I interact with who may want something that others take for granted. Infertility and IVF has also given me a broader scope. Petty issues rarely bother me lately.

4. You have to come to terms with IVF. IVF is not a happy solution to an even unhappier problem. Hearing your doctor say that your only hope is through IVF causes a grief process to begin. You have to grieve the loss of having a child the way every teenager in America seems to do. You have to come to terms with the fact that even with this ginormous medical intervention, children may not be possible. You are at the last step on the baby ladder. That's pretty intense.

5. It is physically possible for you to blow up like a balloon. For awhile I considered that each shot may possibly be filled with air, or at the very least expanding liquid, directed toward my belly. As each day passed I continued to get bigger and bigger. Carrying 900 (perhaps a tiny exaggeration) eggs around is no joke. Think how bloated you get with your normal monthly cycle and multiply that by 20. Just when you think you can't get any bigger, you do. Next round, I'm taking pictures.

6. You can handle more than you ever thought. I, the girl who cries every time she gets blood drawn, can come to a place where I can give myself three shots a day and gladly offer my arm for 4-5 blood tests a week. I can take vaginal ultrasounds with the best of them, and I can avoid killing people even when pumped full of hormones. I can make it through the entire process more than once, and come out better on the other side.

The one thing I knew before and still know today? God is in control. I'm so thankful that He is watching out for us through this process, and I'm praying that I get to hop off this ride sooner rather than later.

(Adapted from an article in Stepping Stones.)