InVitro Fertilization When I Could’ve Conceived Naturally
When I got married at the age of 25, my husband had known that I wanted a child. I was adopted and I wouldn’t ever know my biological family, so it was important to me to have at least one biological relative; one link. Beyond that, I didn’t care if I had more or not. Right away, I wanted to start trying, but it needed to be a mutual decision, so I took birth control prior to the wedding, just in case. He said I could stop taking birth control and “see what happens” after the wedding. I happily did. However, I was not expecting complete and prolonged abstinence. See, with my then-husband, sex was always a moving goal line. When we were dating, he wanted to wait until we were engaged. When we were engaged, he wanted to wait until marriage. When we were married, he wanted it to be for procreation only.
At age 27, after untold couples, sex, and independent therapy sessions, I had enough and wanted a divorce. I didn’t sign-up for a sexless, childless marriage. To avoid a divorce, he agreed to try, but I needed to get those pills that give you a window of just a few days. So, I went to my doctor and explained that I had been trying to get pregnant for a year on my own with no luck, so he prescribed me Clomid. I left out the minor detail that I couldn’t convince my husband to have sex with me yet. Months one and two that I was on Clomid, he complained that he was too tired and we could do it the next night, but those nights never came. Occasionally, I would wake up and find him missing from bed. I would see him in the living room releasing himself. Month three, he was working late every day during the window. Month four, too tired again. Month five was the month I had an utter breakdown after he rejected sex with me and I woke up in the middle of the night to find him releasing himself again. Clomid makes you a little crazy to begin with, it thins your lining making it less possible for a pregnancy to take place, and I was five months into taking a drug that in the long-term reduces fertility and I hadn’t even had one chance at getting pregnant. As in, zero sperm anywhere near an egg. He promised me up and down that the next month he would make it a priority. It was my last shot — it’s not advisable to take Clomid beyond that. I even took a couple months off to let my uterine lining increase, so that maybe I would have better odds. Month six came and when the window approached, we got into a huge fight because I was pressuring him for something he didn’t want. I had no idea how to feel, other than devastated and betrayed. I wasn’t sure if I should be mad at him or myself. I racked my brain trying to figure out where I missed the signs and why he couldn’t just tell me from dating times that he didn’t want this.
He said he felt bad for not saying anything earlier and said that when I finished my nursing degree, we could do IVF since I couldn’t do any more oral meds — and he would pay for it. I still couldn’t bring myself to tell my Doctor that the reason I hadn’t conceived was because I hadn’t been able to have sex with my husband. I was too embarrassed and ashamed. I kept thinking how stupid I must be to take six rounds of medications when my partner wasn’t ready for a baby and I wasn’t even having sex. I didn’t know how to admit that to anyone. It took months to perform all the tests and get the data they needed. Since everything on both of our ends looked good, the specialist opted to skip insemination and go right for In Vitro since timed intercourse with meds didn’t help (or so I let him think). I took all the oral meds, gave myself injections multiple times each day, I had my entire life scheduled around medications.
Finally, I did the egg retrieval the day after my nursing school graduation. On that same day, my husband had to give his sample at the clinic while I was in the procedure. He did his part and I thought that he sincerely felt remorse for those six months and making me go to this extent when we could’ve just done the old-fashioned way. When the time came to implant the embryos, I went back on the injectable meds for weeks at a time. When I wasn’t able to keep the two embryos that were transferred, I was devastated. His response to the news was not an “I’m sorry”, but rather “See what happens when you push someone into something they’re not ready for? You only hurt yourself.” His words broke me.
A few weeks later, I ended up taking a job a few hours away and decided we needed to separate. Some months later, he came back and wanted me to try one more embryo transfer and if it failed, he would give me the amicable divorce I wanted. If I didn’t “compromise” then he would not give me an easy divorce. I decided to do an unmedicated cycle as I didn’t want a child with him at this point. That embryo stuck and is now our 6 year old son. I somehow lasted another two and a half years with him before leaving suddenly and filing for divorce. It was the worst divorce scenario I could imagine and has ruined me in so many ways. However, I am free. Free of his abuse, manipulation, and toxicity.
