Everything will be all right in the end...

I saw The BestExotic Marigold Hotel and the last scene (last dialogue to be precise) made me cry and cry. There was this quote which said, "Everything will be all right in the end... if it's not all right then it's not yet the end".  And that’s what I exactly believed, irrespective of the failures and heartbreaks. That it wasn’t the end. I just wouldn’t accept the fact that I couldn’t procreate.

When I look back now, I feel that I was obsessed. Obsessed about getting pregnant and once I did, I was so relieved that I overdid some things (like eating) and never bothered to read any of the ‘surviving the first year’ books. Handling babies is something I never thought of (before I actually didn’t have a choice). And I never even thought that a blog (like this one) would just sit in my draft for days together, but I just wouldn't find a single minute to publish it. But my unpreparedness and other things, in another blog. 

This one is about my first attempt. My first IVF wasn't an experience that anyone would like to have. Hoarded in one of the many batches at La Femme Fortis, it seemed that I was part of a herd. Be it the ultrasounds or some procedure, always waiting in the herd. I interacted with Dr. Jyoti Bali who was an extremely unenthusiastic person (she was the most pleasant till I was convinced to try a cycle at La Femme).

She returned a big frown when I inquired about how many eggs I had produced (at the end of the egg retrieval procedure). She told me that I hadn’t performed well and I should just pray that whatever has been retrieved is of good quality (it felt like I was back in school).

For some strange reason, La Femme didn’t share the test results and kept them a top notch secret. For example, I didn’t have a clue as to how many eggs I had produced till the very end of the cycle. Imagine the disdain when you don’t know how much you scored but the teacher keeps taunting you that you hadn’t done well.

Dr. Hrishikesh Pai, who actually did the embryo transfer or ET, only showed up on the day of the ET. You have to feel comfy with the doctor and there he was, a charismatic personality, only there on the D-Day. We shared a formal hello and he got busy telling (read that boasting) the other doctors how he got Mandira Bedi pregnant (with an IVF procedure!). I felt no connect with him. In a cramped up place, which is apparently La Femme’s OT section, I must have made 62 trips to the loo for that perfect bladder (neither too full, nor too empty). When I did reach the optimum level, he showed me in the ultrasound where he was releasing the embryos (I couldn’t see or understand anything but nodded in pretense as I feared that his seemingly precious time was not to be wasted). I was told that he just had a day for all the ETs at La Femme for 'our batch'. And that was it…the end of my limited interaction with Dr. Pai.

After two harrowing weeks of waiting, it was the day of my Beta HCG. The final report instructed me to reach the hospital (which I did) and which happened to be a Sunday. The hospital was deserted. The IVF section was closed. But thankfully, the lab was open and I got the result after a few hours and yes, it was negative. I cried and didn’t know what to do.

Being my first, I didn’t even know what to do next. Was I to continue the medicines? Or discontinue all of them? Was I to discontinue gradually? Having altered my cycle, I wondered when I would get my menses. The doctors (Dr. Jyoti Bali and a few other assistant doctors) wouldn’t answer the phone that day. 

I was left with a blank. What about the counseling after a negative result? What if my result was positive? What about closing the loop?

Dil ye bekarar kyun hai

When I thought of starting this blog, I thought I'll take a chronological journey. Like when did I start to get worried about my infertility and how I panicked about not having a baby. But then, that would have been drab and perhaps unoriginal. So like a weird artistic movie, I'll just go back and forth. Please accord.

Kyun tere siva saari duniya se hoon main bekhabar...

Dil ye bekarar kyun hai
Ispe dhun sawaar kyun hai
Kyu hai ye khumaar kyun hai, Tu Bataa

The song played on and on, repeatedly. And I sang along, repeatedly. Strange that I found the lyrics of this romantic song from Players apt for my imaginary baby. It was the 2-WW (two week wait) after my second IVF with Dr.Sonia Malik at Southend Fertility & IVF Clinic. It took a year to recoup from the first failure. And I made this, I think, brave attempt to go through the tedious rounds of injections and pills yet again. 

Much to my (or anyone's) disliking, I was required to undergo innumerous tests and an excruciatingly painful biopsy before starting the actual process. Thankfully with all test results in place and an extremely pleasing and positive rolly polly doctor, things looked up. The AMH (Anti-Mullerian Hormone) was still a concern. AMH is a blood test that indicates if you have a decent egg reserve (it is not an indication of the egg quality but somehow it is believed that low egg quantity also means low egg quality). 

I had (or probably again have) a condition called Endometriosis, which is deterrent to egg quality. With the help of laparoscopy (which am not sure was required or not), I had got a chocolate cyst removed (that happens 'coz of Endometriosis) before my first IUI cycle. But the Endo had come back and so had some persistent cysts. But Dr. Malik decided to go ahead and was able to extract 4 eggs, of which, 2 embryos were made and transferred. These two were A-grade (8-cell) embryos. And these 2 (or at least one, I thought) became my prospective baby (after Embryo transfer you tend to think that you're already pregnant). 

Now anyone who has gone through 2-WW knows just how crazy this time is. Something or anything small seems like a pregnancy symptom. You know you should not be too hopeful, yet you are. You know you should not be too stressed, but you are. And so was I. I dreamed and dreamed, prayed and prayed. All that without coffee (I already gave up my soothing friend as its known to deter conception).

After the two weeks (spent in utter anxiety), I had Beta HCG report in front of me and I couldn't even cry. The pain to see a <2 UI/I result was so that I couldn't react at all. I had lost again and so did my prayers and love. Everything. The world had shattered, yet again. And I returned to that same empty space, again.

Now, I think of the futility of it all. The needless worry, reading about everything on the net and blaming the callousness of the doctor, somebody's 'buri nazar', the extra salt I had in the meal and a day that I forgot to pray. 

I realize the futility of it all even more every time I look at the miracles, my miracles. One of the 8-cell embryos (from my third IVF attempt) is turning into the most adorable talkative doll and the other embryo is turning into an energetic & restless stunt baby (jumping relentlessly to punjabi songs). 

And all the pain I endured...what pain?