Infertility Memoir: ‘My pain had a purpose’

Julie Eshelman Avatar
woman speaking
Photo via Canva

Share

This is Chapter 5 in the Infertility Memoir. Read previous chapters here.

I remember getting an email from our clinic in mid-March 2020 that they too were shutting down as part of the COVID-19 pandemic that was engulfing our lives. Just days before, we were starting to feel hopeful with our decision to try our fourth and final IUI, now everything was crashing down around us. The heartbreak and disbelief we were experiencing were similar to what we experienced with our miscarriages, only instead of the loss of a pregnancy we grieved the loss of our opportunity for pregnancy. The hundreds of dollars spent on medications that were taken, and the painful side effects of those medications I was experiencing were pointless at that moment. But worst of all was the uncertainty of if and when we could move forward. 

hundreds of medications
The author’s medications. Photo courtesy of Julie Eshelman

The entire world was living in unprecedented times, but for us, it felt like our hopes and dreams of a family were stolen from us. Instead of taking my trigger shot and going in for the IUI, I was stuck at the house, alone, bloated and hormonal thanks to all of the medications we had been taking the weeks leading up to that moment. I was crushed, feeling hopeless, and growing angry because of the barriers we faced while on our journey to parenthood. I tried so hard not to spiral out of control into depression, so I put all my energy into supporting my military community. They kept me sane. My military family kept my spirits up, but still, the anger and frustration built with the uncertainty of when we could resume treatments. 

Thankfully, our fertility clinic pivoted and our IVF consultation took place virtually on our originally scheduled date in April. It was agreed that once the clinic reopened we would start IVF. Our doctor was hopeful that with PGT-A testing we would have the best chances of having a baby. So we waited. And waited. Then one day I saw a post that changed my life. It was for a federal advocacy day with an organization I had never heard of to provide insurance coverage for fertility treatments and other family-building options with members of Congress. It was a free, virtual event, where I could explain to our lawmakers how important coverage is, but I wasn’t sure. Yes, in the last few months, we’ve shared more publicly what we’ve been experiencing, and I was frustrated with the status quo. But was I ready to be an advocate and talk to lawmakers? 

I mulled over whether or not I would participate in that event for two weeks. Then on the last day of registration, with my three seconds of courage, I signed up for RESOLVE’s first-ever virtual Federal Advocacy Day 2020. Since I was signing up at the last minute it was like drinking from a firehose to get trained and prepared for Advocacy Day, but it was a welcomed distraction as we waited to be able to start IVF. My state captain, Ryan, took the time to call me in the evenings to help me prepare what I was going to say and offered words of encouragement, empowerment and gratitude for my participation. I didn’t realize it in those early moments, but my voice as a military spouse was needed. They were counting on me to represent the military and veteran community. I realized that participating and advocating for change likely wouldn’t benefit me and my husband, but we could impact generations to come. Ryan’s belief in me as an advocate is still something that I cherish.

When May 20, 2020, rolled around I was so incredibly nervous, but so inspired by the RESOLVE staff, volunteers, and fellow advocates. With a shaking voice, I remember stumbling over my words as I spoke in my first meeting, tears filling my eyes as I gave my 30-second story. Then as I shared about the bills that impacted our journey, my confidence started to grow. At the end of the call hearing, Congressman Bill Foster thanked us and gave us his support on our issues; it was a high I didn’t know existed. At each meeting my confidence grew, my passion exploded, and by the end of the night I was not only a member of a club that no one wants to be in, but I was also part of a community that was taking action to improve access to family building options not only for our military but for everyone. 

Suddenly I wasn’t alone, I was still frustrated and angry at my circumstances, but there was something that I could do about it. That day changed me for the better, my pain had a purpose. I immediately got more involved with RESOLVE. As a military spouse living in a state where I don’t vote my participation in Advocacy Day that year wasn’t with my members of Congress; I wanted to help improve that experience for military-connected advocates. I also wanted to share more about how military service impacts family building, and military life in general to help those advocating for the military community better understand our military. Just a few weeks later I was filming my story for RESOLVE’s website while I patiently waited to start IVF. 

Julie and her husband
The author with her husband. Photo courtesy Julie Eshelman

After months of waiting and uncertainty, we received the news in mid-June that the clinic was reopening and that we could get added to the schedule on day one of my cycle. The relief that we felt was indescribable. While the procedures and processes would be different because of the pandemic, we were grateful to be moving forward. I was also apprehensive. I didn’t want to attend appointments alone because every milestone appointment I went to alone had been a nightmare. All I could think about was going to my first OB appointment in the fall and the heartbeat that couldn’t be found. I had to push those fears out of my mind and turn toward the hope that IVF could bring us our miracle. 

Toward the end of June 2020, I started the medications to prepare my body for our egg retrieval which is part of the IVF process. I made a cute graphic and we made our announcement on Facebook that we were starting IVF. I made updates on Facebook as we got more of our medications and started injections. We could feel the love and support from our friends and family. My husband also received special permission to work from home because if either of us got COVID we would have to cancel our cycle, wasting thousands of dollars. The grace and support from my husband’s unit was the biggest blessing during all of this, the last thing we wanted was to have another procedure canceled or delayed because of COVID. 

The medication protocols are more intensive with IVF. We had injections in the morning and the evening and I was beginning to feel more like a bloated, emotional pincushion, than a person. We had the sharps containers to prove it. My body was feeling the physical effects of all of the medications as we approached the egg retrieval. The bloating, sensitivity, and pressure were building as were the emotional or hormonal side effects. As we approached the end of July and the egg retrieval I was so hopeful. I could feel my body working, and I prayed that it would be enough. That we would get several good embryos and only need to do one egg retrieval. 

On July 29, 2020, we drove to downtown Chicago for our egg retrieval. My husband walked me to the door and we kissed while wearing our pineapple facemasks (pineapples are a symbol of luck and hope for IVF), and off I went, alone. I was terrified to be having what is essentially a surgery alone. It felt surreal to be building our family this way, and to have to do it without my husband by my side, especially knowing that they were going to be sedating me. I just kept repeating to myself, “You can do hard things, you can do hard things” until I believed it. 

author and her husband
Egg retrieval day. Photo courtesy Julie Eshelman

After I woke up from the egg retrieval and got my bearings, I was relieved to learn they got 23 eggs. The doctors were happy with those results, and that I would be able to go home soon to rest and recover. It felt so strange to have to call my husband to give him the news and to let him know when he could walk down from our car to pick me up. These were unprecedented times, without a lot of information, and while we didn’t like the policies we respected them and knew they were in place to give us the best possible chance of building our family. There were still clinics in parts of the country that hadn’t reopened, so we were thankful to no longer be waiting to resume treatments. 

However, we were entering another season of waiting. We were waiting to see how many eggs fertilized, how many would reach the next stages of growth, and how many would eventually be biopsied for PGT-A testing. During that first day of recovery and waiting, I began experiencing extreme abdominal pain and cramping. Some discomfort and cramping were expected, and my ovaries were sent into overproduction for egg retrieval, but this didn’t feel normal. Off to the ER, we went. I don’t think my husband and I will ever forget the young, male ER doctor coming back to my room with my imaging results, “Holy ovaries” was what he exclaimed walking in. He went on to explain how ovaries are normally hard for him to find, but mine were so enlarged that they practically took up my entire abdomen. It sure felt that way. They were going to be admitting me for observation for possible Ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome (OHSS) or ovarian torsion, but my husband could not come with me due to hospital COVID policies.