Today was the appointment with the fertility clinic to learn about the cocktail of oral medications and intravenous shots I would take to prepare for the embryo transfer in […]
Today was the appointment with the fertility clinic to learn about the cocktail of oral medications and intravenous shots I would take to prepare for the embryo transfer in a few short months. My excitement was sky-high and I’m sure my huge smile and energy made me appear radioactive. The actual process was beginning and my Swedes and I were going to have a baby! The waiting, the screenings, the contracts, the meetings – they were all done and now it was time for the good stuff.
The fertility coordinator and I had the same name, and she even spelled it the proper way – my way. Score! After brief pleasantries, she pulled out a well-worn binder and dove into the various medications and hormones I would soon begin.
We plowed through the clinical process; there was a lot to learn. I practiced filling needles with medication and injecting it into a piece of foam, and we reviewed the lengthy calendar of what meds and shots to do on various days.
The science behind in-vitro fertilization (IVF) is fascinating. Oral antibiotics to ensure a clean, healthy slate. Then shots in my abdomen to stop my ovulation, with additional shots in my lower back to prepare my body to accept the embryo transfer. These, along with baby aspirin and pre-natal vitamins, would help ensure a successful embryo transfer.
The clinic was working with the egg donor to coordinate our cycles. This way they could collect and fertilize her egg in sync with me, so my body would really have no idea it was being tricked into accepting a foreign embryo. I knew nothing about the egg donor except that she was 25. Ok, now I’m feeling old.
While the fertility clinic coordinator was professional and very knowledgable, I left the clinic with a feeling of discontent. It finally clicked about an hour into the drive home. All of my previous appointments and screenings had focused on ME – my reasons for surrogacy, my family, my past, my wants and goals. This one was completely focused on the medical aspect with the end goal of a successful IVF pregnancy.
Every aspect of this journey had the same goal: a healthy baby born via surrogacy. It’s not all about me anymore. I suppose it never really was in the first place.
I was eager to get home to Facebook message with my Swedish intended parents. They would be thrilled to hear about the appointment and the medication process.
Perhaps only the three of us could truly grasp and share the thrill of our upcoming adventure together. Our own funny little club.