Treatment for Infertility: When are the costs too high?

Jen at This is More Personal recently stopped blogging for the best of reasons: in December, she and her husband adopted a baby girl.

Jen's struggles have helped me so much in my own journey. After one round of IVF, which resulted in a chemical pregnancy, and a few canceled cycles, Jen and her husband decided they couldn't take any more. Jen's experience put words to something I had been thinking for a while: IVF has emotional, financial and physical costs that are rarely, or perhaps never, acknowledged by the medical profession. Reading through Jen's narratives of her IVF journey made me clearly see that IVF would break me. The stress of spending $15K on a twenty percent chance of getting pregnant, the mood swings that come with high doses of hormones (for whatever reason, I'm extremely sensitive to all medications), the anxiety of being constantly poked and prodded.....I knew I could not do that. The emotional, financial and physical costs of IVF would be too high for me.

(This actually had very little to do with most religious arguments against IVF. I'm not convinced that the unitive and procreative purposes of marriage should never be separated. As for the destruction of precious embryos....what was my body was doing with my embryos every month for a solid year? I was unlikely to produce dozens of eggs, and a couple embryos would probably have been safer in the hands of a competent embryologist than in my inflamed womb.) 

So instead, I turned to alternative therapies. I had always had a healthy diet, but for a solid year, I eliminated alcohol, sugar, refined grains, fried foods, and caffeine. I ditched exercise that I loved, like swimming and intense yoga and instead stuck to the brutally boring Fertility Yoga. I took my temperatures every single morning, stressing out when I ovulated a few days early, because of course, women with DOR "always" ovulate early (except when we are completely asymptomatic). I meditated, I prayed. I structured my days around what supplements I needed to take and when. My entire life became about trying to get pregnant.

It didn't work. Eventually, I realized that these alternative therapies also have high costs. When you give up activities and things that used to give you pleasure in order to get pregnant, and you don't get pregnant, month after devastating month, you begin to lose your soul. Eventually, I realized that I could not continue to live that way; even if I did eventually get pregnant, didn't my child deserve better than the person I had become: jealous, bitter, joyless?

So, I've stopped. I need to update my supplements page, because beyond a few vitamins for basic health, I've stopped taking them. I still do Fertility Yoga, but I also swim and go to Ashtanga Yoga once a week (even in the luteal phase). I'm still staying away from fried foods, because they really do make me feel sick, but if I feel no immediate benefit to eliminating a certain food, I just go ahead and eat it (in moderation).

More joy in my life makes it easier to face infertility, and the fact that I might never get pregnant. Because really, nothing--not even motherhood is worth my soul.

By Any Means Necessary?

How far would I go to have a child?  The desire to have a child entails the willingness to go through the misery of morning sickness, first trimester fatigue, the excruciating pain of actually giving birth, the risks to my health.  I would be open to having a c-section if necessary for the health and safety of my child.

I've restricted my diet, given up alcohol and caffeine. I spend time every morning organizing supplements. I choke down concoctions of wheat grass and Chinese herbs.

I've endured a saline hysterosonogram. I am having a hysteroscopy in two weeks. If I could have a laproscopy, I would have one.

These are minimal interventions. If pregnancy doesn't result, the recommendation is for a round of injectables, followed by IVF.  The side effects of the "minimally invasive" fertility drugs that my RE has recommended include headaches, mood swings, abdominal tenderness, ovarian cysts. Many women report that the IVF drugs permanently change their bodies. They also carry the risks of hot flashes, cysts, and Ovarian Hyper-Stimulation Syndrome.

The risks of many interventions are also financial. Many women with diminished ovarian reserve cannot get pregnant with their own eggs. They must use the eggs of a donor, often with a price tag of $35,000.  A cheaper alternative is to ask a friend of family member to donate for you. Would I be willing to watch my sister inject stimulants in the hopes that she has eggs to give me?

Some women with adenomyosis cannot carry a pregnancy to term. To bear their own, biological child, they must use a surrogate, another womb on loan. A popular option is to go to India, where a woman will bear your child for far less than the going rate in the US.

Is it all worth it, once we have that child in our arms? Is any intervention, procedure, or transaction okay, as long as we can parent? When do we decide to call it quits?

How far would you go to have a child?