May 24

May 24 Our Next Mountain: New Fertility Clinic in Colorado

It had been one of the longest months ever waiting on the follow up consultation with our doctor after we lost our last IVF. And when the appointment came the new COVID-19 precautions only allowed myself physically in the office and Derick waited in the car on Facetime. We discussed our last IVF and how hopeful we all were, medical staff included, as all of the pieces seemed perfectly in place this time. Still with no formal diagnosis beyond “unexplained” we then listened as our doctor outlined what’s next. A conversation I had been dreading. Her list in order of recommendation and expense:

a second opinion
donor eggs
donor embryos
adoption

We still have so many unknowns. How do we know that options 2 and 3 were even viable since no evidence had ever been provided that my eggs weren’t healthy, or my uterus, or Derick’s sperm for that matter? We had normal/negative results on every test we’d ever had done. Our hearts had already made the decision to seek a second opinion. Not long after, we met with a few doctors across the US over the phone or video chat and finally decided to go with CCRM in Colorado. There we would have access to testing not available here in Oklahoma such as chromosomal testing and genetic carrier screening. We had a great meeting with the doctor who ensured us their goal was that we “leave with either a baby or some answers.” The honesty was refreshing and we moved forward with booking our one day workup with the clinic.

My hand embroidered “NOPE” mask. Personal, sweet, no room for error. Etsy

We felt welcome at the clinic from the beginning. Their office was a well oiled machine in light of all the masks and sparse staff. They were punctual and patient. Understanding and honest. Compassionate and encouraging. The entire day consisted of roughly four days worth of labs, meetings, and procedures all in one finely tuned schedule. We were given a lot, A LOT, of information. There were moments of overwhelm where I was glad I had on a mask so no one could see me wrestling the awkward mouth movements preceding an ugly cry. We were separated often and for most procedures Derick was not allowed in with me due to all of the health and safety regulations. But we made it through the day only lightly tattered which we consider a win. I was told to rest that evening so I did back at the hotel. With an approved glass of wine.

Now we wait. Don’t you just love that?

Quick detour - all of that great advice people like to deliver about “just” being patient and it will happen. That’s cute. All couples struggling in the infertility world have written their own in-depth lengthy chapters in the big book of Waiting & Patience.

And we’re back. All in all we are continuing life the best we can in the wait. Mother’s Day was definitely one of the hardest this year which fell the very next day on our return home. I miss my mom. I miss the feeling of being a mom if only for a short while. Flying to Denver. Meeting with everyone at our new clinic. That awkward moment I started crying under my mask. What we ate for dinner. All of those things made me wish I could just pick up the phone. But I know she’s there. Mom’s never really leave. Derick and I are encouraged by our new doctor and nurse and path that we are on. And while I pray it leads to motherhood for me and fatherhood for Derick, for now we wait. Because that’s literally all we can do. That and each take the 12-13 different vitamins and supplements prescribed daily in the male and female “vitamin cocktails.” It’s not a shot. So down the hatch!