When I’m out in public with my rambunctious toddler twins, I often hear comments like “Wow, you’ve got your hands full!” or “Double trouble!” What many people don’t realize, however, is that it took over a year of fertility treatments, including IVF, to bring my two little miracles into the world. Motherhood is a blessing I cherish deeply, not because it was easy, but because it was a hard-fought journey.
Infertility has offered me a profound perspective that I truly appreciate. Yet, just because I’m a mother now doesn’t mean my struggles with infertility have vanished. With my twins now two and a half, the question “Are you planning to have a third?” comes up more frequently. I usually respond with a smile, but the reality is, I’m filled with fear about starting this journey anew. This time, I have a clearer understanding of what lies ahead.
Recently, my partner and I visited a new fertility clinic to embark on the path toward baby number three. We met with our Reproductive Endocrinologist and completed some initial blood tests. That day, I felt like a seasoned veteran, ready to tackle whatever challenges came my way because I already had two healthy children. It’s just going to be a frozen embryo transfer—what’s the big deal, right?
Thanks to our first IVF cycle, we have nine frozen embryos waiting for us. Our next step was to transfer these embryos from our previous clinic to the new one. After signing consent forms and transporting our embryos in a cryopreservation tank, we arrived at their new home, ready for the next stage of our journey.
As I sat in the car with our potential future child(ren) resting between my legs, tears welled in my eyes. I thought, “This is something that those who conceive naturally never have to consider.” It struck me at that moment that infertility doesn’t necessarily become easier the second time around; rather, you become stronger.
Three years have passed since my infertility diagnosis, and I’ve had time to process the accompanying trauma, yet the pain remains. After delivering our embryos, I found myself scrolling through Instagram, and a pregnancy announcement from an acquaintance caught my eye. It was her third pregnancy in four years. Although I was genuinely happy for her, it struck a chord with me, reminding me that a “surprise” third pregnancy will likely never be part of our story, a realization that caught me off guard.
I’ve always dreamed of having three kids. My husband and I both come from families of three, and we are close to our siblings. The thought of adding a third child to our family excites us, but as we step back into this process, we are also protecting our hearts because we know too much. We understand that IVF doesn’t guarantee success. We’re aware that one in four pregnancies ends in miscarriage. We know how consuming fertility treatments can be, and we recognize the risk of heartbreak.
There’s also the uncertainty surrounding the health of our remaining embryos. When we did IVF, we opted out of genetic testing due to costs, and even though we were just 28, some embryos may be chromosomally abnormal, which could lead to failed transfers or miscarriages. We’ve debated whether to pursue genetic testing this time, but after discussing it with our doctor, it seems the risks may outweigh the benefits, leaving us to hope for the best.
I’m unsure when we will be ready to attempt transfer again. For now, the idea of trying again feels daunting. Still, I’m incredibly thankful for the nine chances we have to expand our family and feel blessed to have two healthy children at home. Infertility has taught me that it’s possible to feel sadness, gratitude, and fear simultaneously. We can celebrate others’ joys while mourning our own losses. We can desperately want a third child and still feel apprehensive about going through IVF once more. These feelings coexist because they are part of being human.
For many couples, including us, expanding our family involves navigating numerous considerations. Having another baby isn’t simply about conception; it’s a complex mix of grief, hope, acceptance, fear, joy, and disbelief. It’s about negative pregnancy tests and boxes of medication, hormone injections, and the emotional rollercoaster that comes with it all.
I don’t know what the future holds for us, but one thing is certain: we will be okay, no matter the outcome.
For more insights on fertility and family planning, check out this excellent resource or learn more about home insemination in another blog post.
Summary
Navigating the journey of infertility and IVF once again can be daunting. As a mother of twins born through a long fertility process, I reflect on the complexities of attempting to expand our family further. With frozen embryos in tow, I grapple with the fears and uncertainties that accompany this next step. Despite the challenges, I remain hopeful while recognizing the emotional weight of infertility.