My Imaginary Speech at the (in)Fertility Oscars

I look forward to watching the 86^th Academy Awards later today, Sunday, March 4^th ! I'm a big fan of films and a bigger fan of award speeches.

If there is a “Keeping your Sanity despite the Crazy Journey in Infertility” Award, I may have a tiny shot of winning a trophy. (There will be thousands of other men and women nominees, too.) 

Let’s just imagine that there is such an award. Now imagine that I got that accolade (ehem, ehem).

This will be my speech:

Most of the narrative we hear or read about infertility focuses on couples with infertility issues. This is understandable. But today I’d like to center the spotlight on the men and women who help couples fulfill their dreams of having a child. In particular, I thank everyone – the doctors, nurses and clinic staff at our fertility clinic.

To Dr. Beth Taylor, fertility doctor extraordinaire. It’s not often that you get the right combination of a doctor who is an expert in her field and also have the understanding of the roller-coaster ride infertile couples experience. Her intelligence, curiosity and analytical skills makes me think that she is some kind of a CSI – albeit not with crime scenes but with infertility issues.

Dr. Taylor is better than all the CSIs put together though. They’re all fictional characters and she’s not. She’s a superb scientist, yes. She also has the sensitivity of an artist. Her empathy and compassion is a solace, especially in days when hope seemed out of reach.  I can go on with my ode to Dr. Taylor ad infinitum. 

We also had the opportunity to work with Dr. Nakhuda and Dr. Hitkari. Both doctors are very knowledgeable and answered questions clearly, patiently and cheerfully.

To the many wonderful nurses of the clinic whose ability, skill and dedication are remarkable. Special mention goes to Paula, sunshine personified. I first met Paula in the clinic’s support group and was struck with her talent in explaining medical concepts in a way that is accessible to many. What I most appreciate most about Paula is her warm and caring ways. Her positive attitude is an inspiration.

Mikki is also another nurse who made a difference. Some medications taken during an IVF cycle can have different side-effects on different people. One medication was making me really depressed. I called the nurses’ line of the clinic. I talked to Mikki who gave essential support. She stayed on the line until both of us felt confident that I was safe and out of harm’s way.

Other nurses, like Biddy, Nicola, Anna and Wendy (who has a great sense of humor!), have all been helpful and kind. One of the hardest jobs nurses do, I think, is informing fertility patients of a negative pregnancy test. All those who have had this difficult job of delivering unfortunate news to me have done so with exceptional sensitivity and compassion. Being in the front line, every committed nurse is an asset to a fertility clinic.

To all the clinic staff: the men and women of the laboratory, the administrative team, and the team at the front-desk including those who answer phone inquiries. All of them have shown exceptional competence in their own area. I've also felt that they have a real understanding of the intense emotional upheaval that usually accompanies fertility treatments. 

Tracy at the front desk is always friendly and helpful. I suspect she has a special ability to assess (in seconds!) the demeanor of people who come in to the clinic. From the nervous first-timer to the lost-a-couple-of-times-but-still-hopeful “regular” patients like my husband and I.

Going through infertility without the support and company of the dedicated men and women of our fertility clinic would have been very difficult, if not impossible. Imagine Frodo Baggins, bearer of the One Ring, trekking to Mount Doom, without the help of Samwise, Merry, Pippin, Aragorn, Gandalf, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli and the other Middle-Earth folks. How could Frodo have survived the orcs, goblins and the evil Lord, Sauron, just by himself? He wouldn’t have.

This is not Mount Doom but Mount Jefferson in Oregon.
Photo Credit: R.H.

I think the “trophy” at the (in)Fertility Oscar’s isn’t having a child. Of course, every infertile couple (or single without a partner) who wishes for a child, wants to eventually have a child. But the trophy isn’t really the child.

It is continuing to love yourself and your partner despite the disappointments. It’s in the knowledge that, although the child you’re hoping for will add to the joy in your life, not having a child does not necessarily diminish your zest for life. It is in not succumbing to bitterness and anger. 

It’s in the deep conviction that whether you’ll eventually be gifted with a child or decide to live child-free, you’ll remain the beautiful person that you are.

The men and women at Olive Fertility Centre have helped me keep my sanity so that I won’t lose sight of who I really am. A complete, loving and caring woman. With or without a child.        

Needlework

Saturday, August 31st. I started my needlework. I don’t mean the embroidery, quilting, or knitting sort of needlework. I mean the kind required in IVF treatment. I’m not a big fan of injections. When I was a little girl, many grown-ups wheedled (okay, threatened) their children into behaving by saying that if they didn’t they would be taken to the doctor for an injection. I guess this is the Filipino version of the boogeyman. I don’t recall my own parents using this tactic on me or my brother but somehow the sight of other children crying during vaccination time instilled the long-lasting fear of injections in me.

About the same time I started my needlework, I wrote to my friends back home how I’ve been quite preoccupied partly because of my injections. For the first five days, it was one injection in the morning and two at night. (Day 5, there were four!) The remaining six days, it’s two in the morning and one at night. Truth be told, I was probably unconsciously fishing for sympathy and some “cheerleading.” I only realize this after their encouraging and very supportive responses. Several “You can do it!” and a “We admire your courage!” came back.

Hhhmmm. Courage. I never thought of myself as particularly being courageous in going through IVF treatment. I basked in all this positive attention but didn’t make any reply immediately.  I wanted to reflect a little bit more about this courage thing. I thought, well, the needles are actually quite small and it’s not that bad really. Early morning of the fifth day of injections, my husband and I drove to the lab. Then I thought “okay yeah. Maybe it takes a little bit of courage.” Especially for a needle non-fan and total pain wimp like me. After all, it’s not just the 3 times daily injections I have to do. There are the needles needed to take the blood test on the fifth day of injections and every two days after that. Then there’s the egg retrieval two days after the final injections . I won’t go into the details of this process for fear of scaring the wits out of some of my friends. (The curious ones can google it.) Suffice it to say that in “harvesting” the ova a needle is used to aspirate the follicles in both ovaries. Before I went through my first IVF attempt in December last year, reading the description of this process totally freaked me out. I mean, my ovaries may not be fertile but my imagination is! The actual procedure, as I experienced it months ago, wasn’t really that bad though. In fact, whatever drugs I got (as sedatives or anesthesia) made me feel relaxed. I just felt so gooood that it seemed like I have love for for all the citizens of the Earth and maybe some left over for citizens in other planets. So I’m hoping it will be a similar experience next week.   

My brother refers to my IVF injections with the Tagalog word “turok” (pronounced TWO-rook) which essentially means to pierce with a needle. In Cebuano, which is our first language, “turok” (pronounced two-RUK, emphasis on the second syllable) means to grow, sprout or develop. Being the word geek that I am, the different meanings of these almost-identical words is not lost on me.

Perhaps JD was right. I have courage. Even if it’s just a little bit. But mostly, I think I am strong in my resolve to go through the “turok” of the needles so that life can “turok” and grow successfully in my womb. 

My doctor once said that IVF is not just science. It’s also an art. 

Yup. Like embroidery, quilting, knitting and other forms of needlework.

NOTE: And... just because I’m a total geek. I will leave this footnote. Tagalog and Cebuano are among two of over a hundred of languages of the Philippines.