The big follow-up

The big follow-up

I’ve spent most of the morning all weepy. I really really tried to stay strong and be positive but it is really hard when you are heartbroken. Also, the huge “NOT PREGNANT” sticky note in my file did not make matters any easier.


Yes, I went in for my follow-up IVF appointment this morning. I could barely sleep last night imagining all the horrible things Dr. Sanchez was going to tell me about my hostile uterus or poor egg quality or less than desirable uterine lining or something like that.

Believe it or not I actually wore a brand new outfit for him. I don’t know. Don’t ask me why on that one. I think we have already established I don’t think normally.

The story is that I got there on time (even in this nasty weather) and I was wearing my new outfit, sitting quietly in the waiting room trying to discern which of those other ladies in waiting were also part of the study and pregnant or not pregnant. I’m sure there was at least one pregnant one in there because her hand quite frequently landed on her belly very protective like and so I tried my best to look away and think happy thoughts. Like, how I’m a teacher and I have 7 more weeks to sleep in and go to the pool. Ok, fine. Truthfully, I silently hate her.

Finally, the nurse calls me in.

I don’t know, maybe I’m paranoid right now but normally they are very chipper and say “Good Morning, Suzanne. Nice Weather,” or “Whoa, yucky weather,” or something like that. Which is what I expected. Instead, she said “Hi, Susan. How are you feeling today?”

I flinched. You know, the kind of flinch with the winky eye.

“Um, I’m doing ok, I guess.”

So, we walk down to the little room where I am supposed to strip down and on the table there is a piece of paper.

“This is your final appointment, right?”


“Ok, well make sure you fill out the questionnaire before you leave. I’ll go get the doctor. It should only be a couple of minutes.”


So, I followed the procedure. I put the ugly gown on and sat down to fill out this questionnaire. After a few minutes I here my doctors voice booming down the hall. He stops in front of my room and there is a shuffling noise. He’s obviously reading my file quickly like he needs to cram for an exam. The nurse comes up and I hear some whispering, but I can’t make out what they are saying. Well, except for the part where they decide that Gayle (the other nurse) should come in and witness the breast exam.

Gosh, I love Gayle. Every time I come in she is just so sure that I am going to be pregnant. I almost feel guilty now that I’m not. Like I’m disappointing her.

Dr. Sanchez and Gayle come in. They greet me and make small talk. Dr. Sanchez proceeds with the breast exam and we discuss Vegas and gambling. Apparently, the last time he and his wife went they won a lot of money and were sent an offer for a free 4-night stay recently.


I almost want to tell him that I won $55 on a penny slot, but is seems petty now and just not the right timing since my breasts are exposed.

When the breast exam is complete, Gayle writes down a few notes. She says good bye to me and closes the door. It’s just me and Dr. Sanchez now. I brace for his diagnoses.

He opens my file and there is a giant sticky note with the words “NOT PREGNANT” blaring at me. Literally. It is written in all upper-case letters in very large print. Dr. Sanchez quickly grabs the note, crumples it up and tries to get rid of it before I can see it. But, it’s too late. I’m sure he knows it too and looks at me apologetically. Since he can’t seem to find the trash and he’s flustered, he just holds the crumpled up piece of paper in his hand and looks at me.

He opens his mouth and suddenly I feel like I’m having an out of body experience and this whole thing is happening in slow motion.

“Suzanne, I don’t know what to say. You are one of two patients in this study who should be pregnant. I’ve searched all your tests to see if there were any discrepancies, but there weren’t. Your hormones were on target. You had the right amount of eggs retrieved for your age. Your embryo’s looked perfect. Your lining was better than normal. For you and Matt, this is just going to be a numbers game. I just wish we could have gotten one or two more embryo’s from you so we could try again, because you should definitely be pregnant.”

I just looked at him. Relieved that there wasn’t anything else wrong. Happy to know that I didn’t do anything wrong or that my body doesn’t reject being pregnant. Yet, I couldn’t help myself. I start sobbing.

I should be pregnant.

“Suzanne, please don’t cry. I feel like I’m going to cry now, because you have always come in here so positive and we really wanted you to be pregnant. I know it’s hard. I know it doesn’t make it any easier to know this. But, medically speaking you and Matt can get pregnant. It just may take some time. It’s going to be a numbers game.”

There it is. Our final diagnoses.

I know I should be happy but, I’m not. I’m very sad. I’ve been walking around with a picture of my three embryo’s for the last 4 weeks and I know it sounds silly, but I was getting attached to them. They were my future family and I’m going to miss them.

I was never pregnant, but it was almost like I was. They were already embryo’s! It’s like I’ve miscarried and I’m just very very sad for them, for me, for Matt, and for our family.

3 thoughts on “The big follow-up

  1. Sweetheart {{{HUGS}}} You are absolutely right in how you feel. They WERE embryos. It doesn't matter that you weren't technically pregnant. Those embryos were placed inside you with the intent if increasing your odds at getting pregnant and you got your hopes up. Of course this is going to feel like a miscarriage of sorts. It feels like you were robbed of the family that could have been – that SHOULD have been – because in the picture they look so perfect! It's so fricken unfair! My heart bleeds for you hun. It really and truly does. I want this so badly for you. I know it will happen. I KNOW it will. {{{HUGS}}} It will.


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