Our journey to have a baby started about four years ago. Several women on my father’s side of the family had trouble conceiving. As we began this journey, I made several appointments with maternal fetal medicine specialists who alerted me that, based on my age, my biological clock was set to go off. Each physician indicated if I did not get pregnant soon, I should run to a Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE) for help. With this advice, we began trying to conceive. I also started reading and researching so that we would be able to understand our options and choose the course that was right for us.

We tried unsuccessfully to conceive on our own for several months. In February 2000, we had an appointment with the first of three RE's we would eventually consult. I went through the standard testing for hormone levels and a hysterosalpingogram (HSG) to view my fallopian tubes and uterus. Everything was normal. His recommendation was to begin intrauterine inseminations (IUI) with injectable medications. My husband and I went into this feeling optimistic about our chances since the RE suggested this might work and nothing was abnormal. We wanted a baby so badly. It seemed everywhere we looked; there was either a pregnant woman or a baby. The injectable medications made me feel like a crazy woman, completely out of control. I hated that, but kept telling myself this was the path I needed to take to have a baby. I was producing several good-sized follicles; but, unfortunately, three IUI attempts did not work. After the last attempt, the RE told me the only hope I had of having my own child was through In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) with donor eggs (DE). We were angry with him for wasting our time and could not understand why he had not mentioned this earlier. On our way out of his office, the office manager handed us a pamphlet announcing his new DE program.

For several weeks, I thought about what we had been told and tried to sort our options. I wanted and needed a plan; but, more than anything else, I wanted to have a baby. I wanted to have a family. My husband thought we just needed more time, but I knew the longer we waited, the more our chances for success diminished. One Sunday afternoon I noticed an advertisement for a local IVF Center offering a free seminar to discuss infertility options. I called the next day to sign us up for the seminar, but my husband did not share my enthusiasm. He wanted to continue trying the IUIs and give it more time, but I did not want to continue subjecting myself to the drugs and their effects on my body and mind.

The seminar was excellent. We learned about their program and infertility treatments in general. What struck me most was the RE presenting the seminar. He spoke from the heart because he knew what everyone in the room was feeling. He and his wife had suffered through infertility. Something about him told me he cared about what happened to his patients. While he told his own story, he was cautious to tell everyone there were no guarantees, but what they could offer was hope. As we drove home, I told my husband I was making an appointment with that RE. We had our first appointment in May 2001. Dr. S was wonderful. He reviewed my previous chart and history, then asked why we tried IUIs knowing I had a high FSH level. High FSH? No one ever told me that, but there it was in black and white. To top it off, the HSG, which I had been told was normal, revealed a few abnormalities. I could feel the rage building in me. Once again, I was told that my only hope to have a baby was through DE. I was crushed at hearing the news – again. While I tried to process the information, Dr. S gave me information to contact the DE coordinator. We went home and talked about what to do. It was either try DE, or move directly to adoption. Since I wanted to give myself a shot at experiencing pregnancy, I wanted to go the DE route. My husband decided as long as I was okay with not having a genetic link to my child, he would support the decision to use DE. It was not an easy decision to make. I wished things were different, but I also realized I was fortunate this was even an option for us.

I called the DE coordinator and sent in the completed paperwork with my picture. Within a week, we were officially on their DE list, but the wait was nine months to one year. We did not even know how many people were ahead of us on the list. Once we made our decision, we wanted things to move quickly. As I later learned, all good things really do come to those who wait.

By July, I was anxious to get started and called for an update. The program advertises for donors and makes a match based on the criteria specified by the recipient couple and a picture of the recipient woman. According to the coordinator, our criteria were not too restrictive.

In the interim, I found an out-of-state clinic with a pool of donors. The desperation to have a baby led me down the wrong path, but I did not know that at the time. We ended up cycling with this new center in October and it was the worst experience of our lives. In the end, the cycle was unsuccessful and the reason was egg quality! Amazing! How do you tell that to someone using donor eggs?

I was still desperate to move things along and with no word yet from the first clinic, I started looking for a donor myself. This was not an easy decision or process. It meant that we would have a “known” donation rather than the anonymous situation the center offered us. I communicated with at least 15 women via e-mail before narrowing the list to five. My husband then sent an e-mail to the five to get his impression and, from that list, there was one young woman who impressed us with her maturity level. She was not doing this for the money. We spoke to “L” on the phone several times before finally calling the clinic to tell them we had located our own donor. By December, we were waiting to have her tests done when we got a phone call from the Center. They had a donor for us! I could not believe it. Here we were about to get started with someone else, and this donor was offered to us. Another couple had turned down the opportunity to work with her and since we were the next couple on the list, she was available. Her information was sent to us, and then came the most agonizing of decisions. I had been communicating with a young woman who was excited to be doing her first cycle and now, we were handed another donor who was perfect for us. She was a better match for me physically and ethnically; and, most importantly, had children of her own. In my mind, this meant her eggs knew what to do! After much soul searching, we decided to call “L” and tell her of our change in plans. She was upset not to be working with us, but understood why we made the choice to go with the other donor.

I had a few tests left to complete and then our cycle would start. I was excited and nervous. Above all, I wanted it to work. We had been paying out-of-pocket for all the IVF expenses and I was feeling the pressure that this just had to work. On December 29, 2001, I received the first sign this cycle would be a success. We went to the movies and an obviously pregnant woman sat in the seat next to me in a virtually empty theater. Then a couple came in pushing a stroller and sat in the row just in front of us. Their baby was not much more than 6 weeks old. My husband was worried about me and asked if I wanted to move. Feeling that I was being given a sign that not only would I get pregnant, but also that I would have a baby, I told him I didn’t want to move. One month later, as I was leaving the clinic after a monitoring visit, I came upon a pregnant woman waiting to enter the hospital. She had several bags with her and I decided she must have been going in to have her baby. As I got closer, she looked familiar. It was the woman who sat next to me in the movie theater! I started shaking and ran to the car to call my husband. As I got to the car, I noticed something by the tire--it was a pacifier! I was in tears trying to tell my husband. At first, he was sure that it could not be the same woman. I told him that she had made quite an impression on me (the sign) and it had only been a month. He decided I would not have been so worked up if it had not been her. Everyone I told this to got goose bumps and I wrote the story in my journal so I would always remember it.

Our monitoring sessions went well. We bought the donor a beautiful card and gift for her after her retrieval. In the card, I wrote what having a family meant to us and that we were so grateful for the opportunity she was giving us. I told her that I would carry her in my heart forever and hoped she understood how special she was to give us this incredible gift.

The egg retrieval and fertilization went well, resulting in 10 embryos. The embryologist decided to do a blastocyst transfer on day 5. I was so nervous that day, but the transfer was relatively smooth and easy. Two beautiful blastocysts were transferred. I took a week off from work to stay home and incubate the embryos. The day after transfer we learned the remaining eight embryos never made it to blast, so there were no embryos to freeze. Now, I was really feeling the pressure for this to work. The day before my pregnancy blood test, I stood in my kitchen crying and begging my husband to let me take a home pregnancy test. I was convinced the cycle did not work. He, on the other hand, felt differently, but since nothing had been within our control, we decided to find out together. It seemed to take forever, but when the time was up, we both walked into the bathroom to look at the test and saw the most beautiful site we’d ever seen--two lines! I thought nothing would ever compare to that moment, but seeing my baby’s heartbeat for the first time, finding out we were having a healthy baby boy, and then the birth of our dear son, all made their marks on my heart.

His birth was a surreal experience to me. I ended up having a c-section. That was pretty scary, as I never had surgery before and was worried about the whole experience. Arriving at the hospital and knowing that, in a few hours, we were going to see and hold our son for the first time was exciting. We had waited for this moment and it had finally arrived. Walking into the OR, I felt a bit panicked, but once on the table things moved quickly. My husband had barely arrived in the room when the doctor said we would be having a baby soon. Everyone was talking and my husband kept telling me everything was going to be fine. All of a sudden, the doctor told me he was getting the baby out and then, we heard that cry. As I write this, I have tears in my eyes from the memory of hearing that most beautiful of sounds. I will absolutely never forget the moment when the doctor held him up for us to see. In that moment, a family was born and our lives were changed forever. Our tears made it almost impossible to see that sweet little face. We were so happy and kept telling each other over and over how much we loved each other. After the nurse cleaned him, he looked so tiny and perfect all bundled up in his blanket. I stroked his little cheek, gave him a kiss and told him I loved him, and then he was taken to the nursery. My husband followed, and took a few pictures, then returned as I went to the recovery room. He stayed with me there and we made calls to all our friends and family.

Once I was in my own room, all I wanted was my son. It seemed to take forever, and then, there he was. All cleaned, bundled up and in my arms. I took his blanket off and inspected him, talking to him the entire time. He looked at me with his big eyes. I melted. This was my son. Whatever fears I had about how I would feel losing the genetic link to my child were gone. He was finally here and no matter how he was conceived, he was ours. Each time I look at him, I cannot believe I ever worried about my decision. Miracles really do happen and my son is living proof.