Dear Prudence,
I’m infertile and am only able to conceive through IVF. While the process to discover this was long and loss-filled, once we figured it out, I was unbelievably lucky that I gave birth to my child in 2018 after one cycle of IVF. I was also lucky in that I have a family member who is beyond generous, supporting us for the first cycle and saying (without any pressure) they would support any future IVF treatments if we desired. We tried again this past year but I wasn’t successful, losing two early chemical pregnancies after transfer (one just two weeks ago). Before and immediately after that second cycle I had told myself because of my age (I’m now 41) that I didn’t want to do another one: the possibility of success (about 20 percent now for me in any cycle) just doesn’t seem likely enough to outweigh the mental and physical weight of the hormonal and emotional ups and downs that define IVF and (if we’re lucky) the first trimester. I’m beyond happy with our family trio and a big part of me feels that we should be “one and done” for so many great reasons that would benefit all of us. In fact, I know if my family member had said “here’s twenty-grand, do whatever you want with it,” I wouldn’t even think to spend it on IVF (my mind goes to family experiences and house updates we could do).
My husband feels a lot more settled into the idea of being one and done, but says he would absolutely support going through another cycle, but it’s really my decision because my body weathers all the treatment. I find myself thinking about doing a third IVF cycle A LOT—it’s become an intrusive thought in my daily life. I thought I would feel empowered with my decision to say when my “fertility journey” ended (and that it ended with a child!), but instead I feel so ambivalent: Am I afraid of some inconvenience now for the possibility of the immeasurable gift of a child? Am I getting so caught up in what I thought my family would look like that I’m not able to be totally present? If I did another cycle and it was a failure, what would that do to my mental health? Would I know when to stop if I continued to fail?
Prudie, I know that you can’t make this decision for me, but how do people make decisions like this? And how do they look back on it years later: Is it about figuring out which action (or lack thereof) I think I would regret less? Or the one that makes me happiest now? Is it about the story I want to tell about myself later or the person I want to see in the mirror today?
— Ambivalent IVFer