Ronnies Girl’s Story-Pregnancy and Infant Loss Series

Our next post is from the blog, Our Art Project, which is a blog about a couple battling infertility with the diagnoses of diminished ovarian reserve and high natural killer cells. They have undergone IUIs, IVFs, and have faced a miscarriage from a spontaneous identical twin pregnancy.  The blogger, who has asked to be called Ronnie’s Girl for this guest post, says that her and her husband can be found somewhere between hope and despair.

Ronnie’s Girl tells her story of unbelievable happiness that was ultimately cut short far too soon.  Her story is a fantastic example of why we must all be our own best advocates and how much more they have learned about the difficulties they face because of it.

I was 33 years old when my doctor told me that I should stop trying to become pregnant using my own eggs. He showed my husband and me a brochure that detailed the clinic’s donor egg program at a cost of about $30,000. This was just over a year ago and we had been trying to get pregnant for two years. Our original diagnosis was unexplained infertility, but a very poor response to ovarian stimulation earned us a new, much more ominous diagnosis: diminished ovarian reserve. We were devastated by this news, but we were somehow also convinced that a better clinic could make my ovaries do more. We made appointments for two second opinions at highly-rated, out-of-state clinics. Both doctors thought there were reasons for us to be hopeful, and each suggested a different, more aggressive IVF protocol. We started making plans to cycle again. This was early November, 2014.

On November 29th, upon realizing that my usually predictable cycle was a day late, I took a pregnancy test. It was positive and I was pregnant. I ran downstairs and asked my husband, “Do you want to hear something nutty?” He looked alarmed, so I quickly said, “You have a pregnant wife.” We were maniacs. Completely giddy and amazed. My local reproductive endocrinologist agreed to care for us until we were released to an obstetrician. My betas were quite reassuring, with gorgeous doubling times. We then scheduled an early ultrasound. I had so much fear, but fear could be saved for another day because we were about to get the most outrageous news: I was carrying identical twins! There aren’t words to describe the pride, anxiety, and joy we felt. How did this happen to us, of all people? We felt as if we had made it to the Promised Land. We quickly forgot about the years of trying, and the failed cycles and the diagnosis of diminished ovarian reserve. We only ever wanted two kids anyway, and we were getting just that. We decided to go for it, and announced the news to our families on Christmas Day when I was just days shy of being eight weeks pregnant. We ordered personalized, embroidered stockings from Etsy and videoed our mothers’ reactions. I still keep these videos. On December 26^th, we went for another scan. The physician’s assistant was thorough, checking every which way she could. She had me hold my breath while she scanned for heartbeats. The line ran along the screen, coming up empty each time, for both. She ran a blood flow scan over each twin and neither showed any blood flow. I will never forget the look on my husband’s face. Utter bewilderment. We’d just been in the very same room laughing and crying and celebrating a couple of weeks before and now we were getting crushed. Having just announced, we couldn’t let our family continue to count these babies among their Christmas gifts. I am eternally grateful to my husband for having the strength to make those calls while I lay shuttered in the bedroom. I couldn’t bear to hear his end of the conversations. He did it quickly and joined me in bed. Text messages started flooding my phone.   After a routine exam several days later confirmed what we already knew, we scheduled a D&C for January 2nd. During the surgical prep, my nurse asked me how my New Year’s was. “Shitty,” I responded. Really?! This is a fertility clinic and I’m having a D&C. She quickly apologized for asking but I felt guilty for making her feel bad.

Sadly, we weren’t the only ones who had had a shitty New Year’s. There must have been four other couples there, all for D&Cs. The beds in the surgical suite are separated only by curtains. I could overhear everything as I awaited my turn. The woman next to me was 40. This was her third D&C. My heart broke for her. The surgery was quick and my post D&C bleeding was scant. The comically humongous pads I bought in preparation were unnecessary. Then, about a week after the D&C, we found out the results of our pathology report. We lost chromosomally normal twin girls. Maternal cell contamination was ruled out. What in the hell was I supposed to do with that information? The doctor from our local clinic suggested our loss was simply bad luck. Our new reproductive endocrinologist had a different opinion and ran additional tests to try to determine the cause of our loss. One of these tests was a blood test that revealed I had elevated Natural Killer Cells which are believed to play a role in otherwise unexplained pregnancy loss. He recommended intra-lipids infusions with each embryo transfer to combat these elevated cells.

Under the care of our new doctor, we’ve since undergone two additional IVF cycles with a protocol designed for women with diminished ovarian reserve. Neither cycle was successful. We still have a frozen embryo left to transfer. If this transfer is also unsuccessful, we’ve discussed a Hail Mary IVF cycle. Some days we discuss digging out that now-dusty donor egg pamphlet from our local clinic and giving it thoughtful consideration. But most days it feels like those twin girls were our only shot at parenthood.