Hope is Hard

Over the weekend, we received Day 5 and Day 6 embryo updates. 

Last year, I received a Day 3 update as well, which was bad news. I was hopeful this year that if I didn’t receive an update until Day 5, maybe that meant there was no bad news to share before then. 

I thought wrong. 

Leading up to the call, I had been playing with the numbers. According to Dr. C., of any embryos we send off for testing, we can expect about 15-20% to come back normal or viable. 

For the best chance of getting at least one embryo, it’d be best if at least five made it to the blastocyst stage, when they’re biopsied for genetic testing and then frozen. It’d certainly be great if we got more, but I was thinking only about the odds. 

I was exceedingly hopeful the growth hormone had done the trick and improved my egg quality. 

And that’s why hope is hard. 

On Saturday, I got the call. When the nurse told me the news, she could’ve been more careful with her word order choice. 

“Unfortunately none of the embryos have progressed to the blastocyst stage. There are three still growing that could make it, and we’ll call tomorrow with another update.”

My heart nearly stopped at the “Unfortunately none” part. I had an instant flashback to the call last year when I learned none of our embryos were viable. It wasn’t lost on me the date was April 1, but I knew this wasn’t an April Fools joke. 

Three? Only three?

I asked if they could tell what the issues were, or why we’d lost so many. 

“Well, the sperm didn’t look all that great, and the egg quality wasn’t great either. Most of the eggs had vacuoles.”

Once I got the news, I called Nick. (Since my egg retrieval procedure happened a couple days sooner than I originally anticipated, I was able to go on that family trip to Oregon to celebrate my sister’s birthday. I told Nick I’d call and share the news with him before I told anyone else.)

We were both incredibly disappointed; there were tears from both of us (a lot of tears, actually). It literally felt like we were right back in that 2022 cycle. Only three embryos (maybe) to send off for genetic testing. 

But this time around, we know how bad our odds are. 

The next day, another call. When I saw the “IVF Conceptions” on my caller ID, I just somehow knew… all three didn’t make it. This time, I was right. Only two embryos made it to the blastocyst stage. 

I called Nick again, and, once again, more tears. 

It’s a likelihood of 80-85% that neither of the embryos will be viable. We’ll know for sure in 10-14 days.

I would love to tell you I’m being hopeful and optimistic, but I honestly can’t afford to be. If I go into this thinking both aren’t viable, I’ll have prepared myself for the worst. If there’s good news, I’ll be surprised. 

Hope is a hard thing… All along, I’d allowed myself to believe the extra meds we added to this cycle would work. And even though the odds were against us, we’d have a better chance of coming out with at least one or two viable embryos. If we could do that in one cycle, we could potentially do it in a third or fourth. 

And if we could get a few viable embryos, we could finally move on to the next stage to try and get pregnant. 

Even after everything we’ve been through, I still didn’t think another round with nothing was a possibility. My optimism got the better of me this time. 

In our trying-to-conceive journey, sperm has now met egg 26 times–once naturally and the rest through IVF. At least 24 resulted in nothing. At best, if a miracle happens and both embryos are viable, we’ll have an 8% success rate. At worst, a 100% failure rate.

It’s really hard to be hopeful.