“No Greater Blessing”
The Eull family and their little miracle, Maxwell; St. Michael, MN

I was a seemingly healthy, happy 24-year-old newlywed when my journey with infertility began. My husband and I, eager to fulfill our dreams of building a family together, decided to try for children immediately after we said, “I Do.” After years of being on birth control, I stopped taking the pill and excitedly started looking at baby clothes and cribs. Then amazingly I did not get a period that first month. We were excited, nervous, simply overjoyed; we thought, “We must be pregnant already!” Several negative pregnancy tests and months later we realized there was no baby, just something wrong.

I was not expecting what I heard or the look of pity on my doctor’s face when she diagnosed me with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. Small pearl-like strands of cysts had overtaken my ovaries making it impossible for me to ovulate and improbable for me to have a child of my own. We were devastated. Never in my wildest imagination or worst nightmare had I thought of a life without the love of a child.

At first there were days of tear-filled anger; anger towards my doctor, “Why had she not discovered this before?” and anger towards myself, “Why was my body betraying me?” After the anger there was fear, after fear, a sense of guilt took up residence in the pit of my stomach. At one point I told my husband that I understood if he wanted to leave me for a woman who could give him a child. Irrational I know, but I could not help but feel inadequate, empty. Last, but worst of all, there was sadness; a sadness so profound it was almost as if I was mourning for the child I was never going to have.

If I knew then, what I know now I would have said, “let yourself cry, let yourself be angry and sad, but then, let yourself realize there is hope and have faith.” We are fortunate enough today to be living in an era were the possibilities of overcoming infertility issues not only exist, but are becoming more successful with each passing year. Medications, like Menopur and procedures such as IVF exist to make the impossible possible.

A week after my diagnosis my husband and I were back in the same office where our lives had been turned upside down, This time we were on the defensive, mentally prepared and ready to hear our options. The first step in the journey was prescription medication, a tiny pill I took to trick my body into ovulating. Unfortunately, my body could not be fooled. After adjusting the dose three different times, my family OBGYN referred me to another Obstetrician who specialized in infertility. Up until that point I think a part of me was still in denial, but as I stood in front of the office door that read “Obstetrics, Gynecology and Infertility” it hit me. This was really happening to us.

We then started injectable medications in the hopes of producing a follicle or two that would grow to just the right size for an attempt at artificial insemination. Instead of growing just one or two follicles, my severely PCOS ovaries produced ten, fifteen, even twenty! After two emotionally and physically draining cycles of shots my new doctor realized there was no amount of tailoring to my medications that could control the way my ovaries were responding. I cried quietly on the table as the doctor told me they were “shutting down” the final cycle and that there was nothing more she could do for us.

It had been little over a year since my diagnosis and I felt like we were quickly running out of options. At this point we were referred to Reproductive Medicine and Infertility Associates. We made an appointment with Dr. Daniel Dumesic, a predominant researcher of PCOS and a man in whom I put every ounce of faith I had, before I even met him. Inside I knew this was our last stop on the journey of infertility.

If I knew then what I know now, I would have stayed off the internet. While it can be an amazing tool for many things it can also be a place of misinformation and false claims; a virtual breeding ground of fear and anxiety. As I impatiently awaited my appointment at RMIA I decided one night to explore the World Wide Web for information on IVF. After reading an excessive amount of contradictory data and negative opinions on the issue I ended up having a total melt down. Looking back I can see that it would have been best to wait and speak to the professionals before drawing any conclusions of my own. It would have saved me from at least a few sleepless nights.

I was thrilled the day we finally met Dr. Dumesic. After weeks of fearing the unknown path that lay ahead I felt like I could breathe again as soon as we entered the facility. It was an intense orientation into the program at RMIA, lots of questions and tests, but by the end of our first visit we had developed our plan of action. We decided to try another round of injectable medications to see if artificial insemination was still a viable option. His optimism was refreshing, just the sort of encouragement I needed to keep believing, but after two more failed cycles we found ourselves at another fork in the road.

Our last cycle with injectables was “shut down” on Christmas Eve. It was another devastating blow. After weeks of driving over 100 miles to and from the clinic every other day, with my belly and thighs bruised from the shots and the medical expenses piling up, we sat with Dr. Dumesic as he explained that I would make an excellent candidate for IVF. I will never forget the last thing he said to me as I wept in front of him, feeling overwhelmed and scared. He looked me directly in the eyes and said, “We will get there. I promise you that.” So I dug deep within myself and wholeheartedly believed Dr. Dumesic words.

If I knew then what I know now, I would have talked to more people about what we were going through. During the entire journey, the only people who knew what we were experiencing were our parents and my sister. While it is a very personal issue, one that we wanted to keep private at the time, looking back I know it would have been extremely helpful for me to have been able to talk to friends, relatives or others who were in the midst of the same painful process.

The entire journey become more mentally challenging for me than it was physically. I remember seeing babies or pregnant women out in public and having to sneak into a bathroom to cry. I remember several months of uncharacteristic jealousy and anger. If I saw a mother not tending to her child as lovingly as I thought she should I would get furious and think, “Why does she get to have a child and I do not?” If I knew then what I know now; I would jump at the opportunity to join a support group, allow myself to ask for help, and talk about my feelings to the others more often.

In March of 2007, after a few months of letting my system quiet down we began preparing for our first round of IVF. I took Menopur injections along with a menagerie of other medications in an effort to produce the healthy eggs that I would need for the IVF cycle. For the first time it seemed that things were going exactly according to the plan and in early April the Doctors at RMIA retrieved nineteen healthy eggs from my ovaries! My overachieving PCOS ovaries had preformed exactly as they had in the past, but this time they did what we needed them to do.

Five days later two healthy embryos were transferred into my uterus. Again I cried on the table, but this time my tears were filled with happiness and excitement! We knew our odds for success, we had all the information we needed; it was time to pray. The next several days were filled with an anticipation that words alone cannot describe after my three days of bed rest I returned to work, but started experiencing some pain and bloating in my abdomen. I went into RMIA looking 5 months pregnant and they knew in a second that I was experiencing Ovarian Hyper-stimulation. An ultrasound confirmed that my abdomen was filled with fluid and an hour later I was preparing to undergo a procedure to remove the 2 liters of liquid. Before the procedure a nurse came and took a vial of blood for a pregnancy test. I remember thinking…”Today is the day.” It was early the nurse said, but the fact that I was exhibiting hyper-stimulation was a great sign that the IVF had been a success.

A couple hours later, as I was being wheeled back into the recovery area, the nurse appeared at the side of my bed. She grabbed my hand and said, “Congratulations, Sarah you are pregnant. Your levels came in nice and high and everything is looking great.”

First I laughed and then of course I cried and then I asked for the phone. Kurt had been working on the other side of the city and was rushing to the clinic when he answered the phone. “I’m pregnant,” I cried into the phone overjoyed. “We are having a baby!” Before long Kurt was at my side and we sat in silence just letting it all sink in and flying high on cloud nine. Everything that we had been through, all of the tests, medications, shots, procedures; it all become fuzzy as if it had never really happened at all because now we were pregnant. It is a powerful moment when you realize your dream is becoming reality.

We knew the next twelve weeks would be critical, as women with PCOS that undergo IVF have a greatly increased risk of miscarriage, but we had come so far already that we didn’t even let that thought enter our minds. What I had at so many different times along the journey thought would never happen…was actually happening. I was going to be a Mommy.

Our little miracle, Maxwell James, was born on January 8, 2008. He was 7 pounds 7 ounces of pure perfection with amazing olive skin, blue eyes and fuzzy brown hair. He is everything we dreamed about and more than I can describe. Today Max is a healthy, happy 7 month-old. His smile lights up the entire room and melts our heart. He waves bye-bye, gives kisses, giggles with his entire body and is on the verge of crawling and I thank God for him each and every day. He has made our life complete.

If there is anything I can offer another family experiencing infertility issues it is this; never let your mind or heart give up, try to stay positive, remain strong in your faith, surround yourself with great people and excellent doctors, try to forget as much of the physical and emotional pain that you can and focus on the end result. The journey may be long, but in the end if all goes well, you will be blessed with a miracle of your own and there is no greater blessing than that.