If you want to be a parent, you’ll be a parent

As I sit and write this, I’m looking at my two-month-old daughter. Every day, my husband Matthew and I marvel at her and say, “She’s finally here.”

Years ago, when we left the genetic counselor’s office at Mt. Sinai Hospital in New York City, I felt a pit in my stomach. We had just learned about unanticipated genetic factors that complicated our prospects for healthy children.

Based on that meeting, we looked into our options. Immediately, one doctor told us that IVF [in vitro fertilization] would be “futile;” don’t bother.

We learned that I am a carrier of the Fragile X gene, which presented a two-fold challenge. It diminishes the ovarian reserve of the mother carrying the gene and expands every generation. There was a 90 percent chance the gene would expand into the full syndrome.

I vividly remember my Dad’s words as we updated him on our situation. He suggested looking into all options—including egg donation, IVF, and adoption.

He said, “If you want to be a parent, you’ll be a parent.”

I did not quite comprehend what he meant and, at first, brushed it off.

Now, seven years later, I do.

He was an out-of-the-box thinker. It didn’t matter how I became a parent. It just mattered that I wanted to be one. I was grateful to have options.

We decided to pursue IVF, even though the odds were against us. I was young and healthy—which were key success factors—so it was worth a shot. And no matter the outcome, we would know that we tried. My 30s would be a temporary window of time to get healthy eggs. It may take a while, but this way, we would not look back and wonder “what if?”

After four years, we successfully produced a handful of healthy embryos. We worked with the prestigious Dr. Zev Williams and Dr. Eric Forman of Columbia University Fertility, using their CORAL-IVF [Columbia Oral IVF] methodology, designed for patients with a low ovarian reserve. The idea is that the same, if not better results, are possible without the high doses and intensity of multiple injectable medications per day (shots in the stomach). The reduced number of injectables is also a cost savings of thousands of dollars.

The protocol was effective. Yet it was still a maddening process of create, lose, replenish.

Inherently, grief is interconnected with fertility.

Columbia was very sensitive to the fact that my grief was multifaceted due to the sudden loss of my father, just 8 months into the IVF process.

To soften the grief, we collaborated with Dr. Williams and Dr. Forman to devise a plan. Eventually, after three losses, we regrouped to find another path to bring our precious embryos to life.

Enter surrogacy.

My husband and I didn’t see surrogacy coming at all. While we didn’t expect IVF, it was more familiar.

The idea that I couldn’t take my embryo to the finish line deeply frustrated me. I already felt like a failure to have lost hard-earned embryos and to be doing IVF in the first place. And, I was concerned about surrogacy in general.

How am I supposed to trust someone else to carry my baby?

I’m going to miss my embryo.

The embryo is with her, and it’s not fair. I don’t get to be with my embryo for the 9-month journey to life.

At the same time, I remembered what Dad said: “If you want to be a parent, you’ll be a parent.”

By the time surrogacy entered the picture, we were on a one-year waiting list of 200 people. It ended up being two years.

We were blessed to meet an amazing woman, and her husband was just as special. While the concept of surrogacy felt daunting and the waiting was unbearable, once we actually met them, we worked as a true team. As she recently shared, the experience was filled with “compassion, sacrifice, and so much heart.” When she got pregnant on the first attempt, we officially transformed from the unluckiest to the luckiest people.

Three years later, our daughter is finally here. She’s healthy, she’s safe—and she’s ours. Now, we are spending our days relishing in the miracle of our daughter, who is named after my father.

I wish it were easier to share and connect with others while in the throes of IVF. I wish I wasn’t second-guessing sharing now either. The “journey”, a significant live event, is ripe with grief—of what could be, what might not be, of physical and emotional change, of feelings of loneliness. And it also leads to an abundance of joy and gratitude.

Now, I hope that anyone who may be dealing with fertility related issues, sees this article as a reminder to be open to your path.

That you have options.

#IVF, #Surrogacy, #Adoption, #Donoregg, #DonorSperm, #DonorEmbryo.

Each brings psychological, physical, and financial challenges, yet still, they signal a path forward.

And no matter what happens on the path, you can and will find happiness if you choose it. While immersed in the process, you’ll find ways to stay focused and feel energized. You’ll enjoy the extra time for yourself and with your partner. You’ll be aware of the fleeting nature of life and know that one day, it will all be worth it—no matter what the outcome.

Don’t give up. Because if you want to be a parent, you’ll be a parent.

About the Author

Rachel Gerber Kule is the founder of Fertilyfe, the coping community for Aspiring Parents (APs) dedicated to the interconnectivity of grief and fertility. Her mission is to empower APs to bring their dreams for parenthood to lyfe.

Zev Williams, MD, PhD, is the Wendy D. Havens Associate Professor of Women's Health and the chief of the Division of Reproductive Endocrinology and Infertility at Columbia.

Eric Forman, MD, is the medical and laboratory director at Columbia University Fertility Center at Columbia, where he oversees the medical practice as well as the IVF embryology and andrology laboratories.