How to Counteract IVF Damages When You Have a Mental Illness
It’s a tough road ahead but you can get through it
I was nervous and excited in the car as we drove to the fertility clinic for our first consultation. My husband and I sat there full of hope, in the oversized, studded accent chairs as we held hands waiting for my doctor. She walked in with a big, warm smile on her face and sat down to explain the whole process. She drew diagrams, showed us charts, and threw out some fancy medical terms we didn’t understand.
We learned that IVF (Invitro-Fertilization) is an aggressive medical treatment for infertility in which a woman’s eggs and a man’s sperm are taken and fertilized in a lab to create embryos which are then transferred back into the uterus to increase the chances of pregnancy. My doctor further described the chemical side effects of fertility medications. The one comment she made that struck me was directed at my husband. She said, “You’re going to need to be very patient, understanding, and supportive with her because IVF is a very emotional process.” My husband nodded yes not knowing the path that lied ahead of us.
Rather than focus on the physical and procedural aspects of IVF, I want to bring attention to the emotional and psychological impacts of it. I want to be very blunt with you. IVF is a difficult journey. It is challenging for any woman because the amount of hormones that are being injected into one’s body is abnormally high. With such a spike in estrogen and progesterone levels, there will be mood swings in addition to the emotional rollercoaster of the ‘hope-disappointment-sadness’ cycle.
Add a pre-existing mental health condition to the mix, as in my case, and it complicates things even further. I went on to do 9 IVF cycles within 2.5 years. Ongoing hope is what made me continue to do that many. It was always, ‘It’ll work on the next cycle’. At the start of every cycle, I was excited about the possibility of getting pregnant.
I didn’t expect the first 2 cycles to work, but I had the idea in my head that it was going to happen on the 3rd or 4th cycle. I clearly remember the 3rd cycle when the embryologist said my embryos were good quality; and they transferred all 3 so at least 1 of them had a better shot at implanting. At home, my husband would excitingly rub my stomach and refer to our little embryo by name. We had personalized ‘him’. I saved all my ultrasound pictures of the embryo transfer and dated them on the back.
I safely tucked away onesies a friend and my mom had gifted me with that had the words, “Worth the Wait” on them. My husband and I talked about how fun it was going to be to share our lives with our little one, planning outings and sporting events. He poked fun at how they’d team up together to tease me. We talked about where we’d buy a house considering where the good schools were.
We were eager to hear back from the lab so we could get started on planning for our baby’s life. The day finally came when I received the call about my pregnancy test results. The nurse said, “I’m so sorry but your test came back negative.” My heart was pounding, and my voice cracked as I said to her, “What? How can that be? But the embryologist said…”.
My husband was in the bathroom when I took the call, but since I had my phone on speaker, he heard the bad news. When he faced me, he said, “I know, I heard”.
I will never forget the sadness and brokenness I saw on his face. It shattered my heart. I felt responsible for his disappointment and pain. Despite his sorrow, he still managed to encourage me. As he noticed my eyes filling up with tears, he hugged me tight and said, “Don’t worry, it’ll happen in the next 2 cycles.” We stood there in our kitchen fully embraced, as I continued to sob uncontrollably into his chest.
Despite the hardship of this phase of my life, I can genuinely say that I did get something out of it.
This incident aggravated my anxiety and depression. Whenever there was mention of a baby or our embryo’s name, it would trigger my weeping. Manic feelings of guilt and self-loathing followed. I felt physically inept. I questioned, how could every other woman in the world make a baby and I couldn’t? I felt worthless, ashamed, and inadequate as a wife and woman. I told my husband I wouldn’t blame him for leaving me because he deserved better.
I continued with the next cycles back-to-back which didn’t give me enough time to fully mourn the previous losses. I would feel hopeful for the next cycle, until that next disappointment. Somewhere between the 4thand 5th cycles, I decided to go back to therapy. I started making an effort to let go of this circumstance I couldn’t control. I submerged myself heavily on my faith. I also joined an infertility support group, which helped me a lot! The empathy and love I received from this group were so comforting because they understood exactly what I was going through.
One of my later cycles produced a positive pregnancy test. After having been emotionally and psychologically battered by so many IVF failures, another disappointment wouldn’t leave a dent anymore. That’s why when the lab called me with my post-pregnancy hCG results, it was no shock to me that I had an early miscarriage. But this time, I was prepared. I had made peace with the fact that this may never happen for us through IVF.
I decided to stop IVF after 9 cycles because it didn’t make sense to continue. I still have ‘infertility moments’ that trigger my anxiety and depression. For instance, I was terrified to meet my husband’s newborn nephew. I feared I would have to run to the bathroom crying when I met him. I had to psyche myself out for 2 weeks before meeting him to be able to compartmentalize my grief separately from this precious little bundle of joy. My brain now understood that this baby was not symbolic of my empty womb and lost embryos. When I finally met him, I authentically felt joy to see his angelic face.
Navigating this journey with mental illness has been a struggle. But it’s not impossible to get passed it. Despite the hardship of this phase of my life, I can genuinely say that I did get something out of it. I gained personal growth, and I developed strength in dealing with my anxiety and depression.
If you’re about to begin your own infertility treatment journey and have a mental illness, you need to prepare for it. I strongly advise you to remain consistent with your regular therapy appointments and seek an infertility support group near you.
Try meditation, yoga, and any self-care activity that will help you maintain your sanity. The goal is to not obsess over the outcome of your journey. Being consumed with it will never help your chances. Look out for your well-being. Even with fertility success in the end, using these resources will help you get through the tough times.
Best of luck!
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