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.
