Failed IVF Cycle 7

My seventh IVF cycle in Vietnam was by far the hardest and most challenging. It felt like a nightmare, with hormonal imbalances and a chocolate cyst. Those were the darkest days of my 40 years, as I began to face the painful reality that I might never become a mother. I’ll never forget that cold, rainy day in March. I visited several hospitals, consulting both conventional and traditional doctors, desperately searching for even the smallest glimmer of hope.

After my failed sixth IVF cycle, I focused entirely on improving my health and took a break to spend time with my family and friends. During that time, I learned Zumba, practiced yoga every other day, and went for long walks, like an hour each day.

I ate healthy, and took a variety of supplements—about 25 pills a day. The herbal medicine was recommended by my Vietnamese traditional doctor, while my American IVF doctor suggested DHEA, TruNiagen, NeoQ10, omega-3, and prenatal vitamins. I also added two herbal liquid medicinal packets daily.

I also kept taking extra vitamin D, which I started a few years ago due to chronic deficiency. My body was pretty picky about vitamin D supplements—capsules and tablets never worked for me. It wasn’t until I tried Bio-D Mulsion Forte, recommended by my acupuncturist, that my deficiency was corrected in just 11 days. Since then, I’ve been taking 2000 IU of this vitamin D daily. However, in VN, none of the pharmacies I checked had vitamin D for adults, so I had to go with a liquid supplement for children.

I committed to maintaining a healthy lifestyle every single day because changing myself was the one thing I could control—and something I owed to myself and to all the love, support, and care I’d received. It was also my way of appreciating the favorable conditions I had for my IVF treatment in VN, where the costs and convenience were far better than in the US.

I know I’m luckier than many other women in the same situation. Some can’t afford multiple IVF rounds while others are juggling demanding jobs and family responsibilities. Many face emotional pressure from their partners, in-laws, and even society, especially in Vietnamese culture. Some struggle with health issues that make treatment too risky and others face infertility that is incurable. Knowing all this, I couldn’t let the difficulties or challenges of this journey defeat me. If I missed this chance, I might never have it again. I was nearing 40, and my fertility clock was ticking.

After three months, I was excited to finally see the doctors again. I first visited the hospital where my husband’s better sperm was stored. Unfortunately, the ultrasound and blood tests were a shock. My E2 had increased, and the ultrasound showed one large follicle and only two or three others in total. I used to have over 20 follicles, then less than 10, but now, with so few follicles, it felt like I was running out of eggs.

Despite all my efforts, things just kept getting worse. The doctor was very blunt, telling me it was time to stop. She even said that if she were in my shoes, she would have stopped much earlier because what I had been doing wasn’t leading anywhere. Her words were harsh, but I understood. She didn’t want me to get stuck in a spiral of false hope, sinking deeper and deeper. She urged me to be more realistic and recommended using donor eggs.

I had thought about it, but at that moment, I couldn’t bring myself to consider that option. The idea of using donor eggs felt like I would be creating a child with a predetermined fate of not knowing their real mother or her family. It might sound silly, but I feared that my child might never feel like part of my extended family, and that my parents and sister might also feel like they couldn’t fully connect with her/him as grandparents and an aunt.

I worried that the more I loved the child, the deeper our connection grew, the more we would both feel an emptiness that could never be filled—the truth that I could never be a real mother and that the child could never truly be mine. She would be mine, but at the same time, she wouldn’t. What a contradiction! That emptiness might never go away, and the child’s presence might remind me of the pain of my infertility—a pain I was so desperate to bury.

Not wanting to accept the hard truth, I went to another hospital – in VN, you can go directly to the hospital for an appointment without booking in advance. The female doctor looked at my medical records, and while she knew my case would be difficult, she sounded more positive, saying they had treated other patients with similar struggles, and some had been successful. The doctor emphasized the journey would require two things: time and money. I felt a bit less hopeless, at least she wasn’t blunt telling me that continuing treatment wouldn’t help. It was probably also because it was my first visit with her, so she didn’t want to be too harsh.

The next day, I had an appointment with my IVF doctor. Once again, he recommended using donor eggs. But I wasn’t ready to give up, especially after three months of intensive effort to improve my fertility and overall health. My Oriental medicine doctor, who’s well-known in the IVF field, had even told me that my fertility health had improved by 70%. He mentioned that my eggs were getting more nutrition and that I was ready to start a new IVF cycle. My positive feelings about my health and his encouraging words however were in stark contrast to my blood test results and ultrasound scan. What a huge disappointment. I tried to convince myself that maybe it was just bad luck that time, and perhaps the next cycle would be different. With my large follicle, and not wanting to take birth control pills, my IVF doctor suggested I wait until my next period to see if it disappeared on its own. If not, he would need to shrink it.

Unfortunately, my large follicle was still there on the follow-up ultrasound. My doctor once again recommended birth control pills, which was frustrating since he didn’t remember our previous discussion. (Later, I realized I should have been more understanding, as he likely had many patients, possibly seeing around a hundred in just a 3-hour session.) Thankfully, his forgetfulness didn’t throw off my plan, as I was scheduled to have the large follicle treated just two days later.

During the procedure, however, he accidentally inflated a chocolate cyst. Neither of us had expected that, since chocolate cysts are usually avoided unless absolutely necessary, like when they grow too large. I was disappointed, but I understood that it can be hard to distinguish a regular cyst from a chocolate cyst when they’re small. (Though I’m not sure if that reasoning makes sense!)

The diagnosis of a chocolate cyst—endometriosis—was another shock for me, something I had never experienced before. It can quickly reduce egg count. On top of that, I had diminished ovarian reserve (DOR), with very few follicles in recent months. This made me lose hope that my egg count would improve. I didn’t want to wait around, hoping for an “adequate” number of eggs in the next cycle, as that might never happen. So, I told my IVF doctor I wanted to try a natural IVF or mini IVF protocol, which would involve no stimulation drugs or very low doses. He agreed to my suggestion.

I started cycle seven, on 03/25/2024, four days after the large follicle inflation procedure with daily injections of 150 IU of Follitrope and two pills of Clostibegyt (50 mg each), which I had started earlier on 03/20/24. I added Orgalutran (0.25 mg) starting the morning of 03/28/24 and had booster shots (Fertipeptil 0.1 mg and Ovitrellte 250 mg in the evening on 03/30/24. I was on stims for 11 days.

I ended up with just two eggs retrieved, neither of which fertilized. It was disappointing, but not entirely surprising, because I had prepared myself for this outcome. I just went through with it—I didn’t want any delays.

Was it enough to make me give up? Not yet. I told myself I might be luckier next time, since the number of follicles and hormones fluctuate each month. Who knows? Maybe my three months of intensive efforts would pay off next time. My mind kept going back and forth, searching for any reason to keep going.

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Below are some thoughts I had while reflecting on my IVF journey, specifically about my wonderful time in VN. It’s not a whole story, just some random memories and feelings.

My favorite day would start with a Zumba lesson, followed by a hearty bowl of Phở Bò (beef noodle soup) loaded with green onions and cilantro. After that, I’d treat myself to a cup of Cà phê Sữa nóng (hot condensed milk coffee) at AHA or Highlands Coffee and enjoy some quiet “me time.” I would this time to read, reply to emails, write, or plan out the rest of my day.

After lunch with my family, I’d often go out to get my hair washed and enjoy a relaxing scalp massage. Then, I’d stop by a holistic health care center for acupressure. On my way home, I’d pick up some traditional snacks or fresh tropical fruit from street vendors.

In the afternoon, I liked going to the park for a couple of laps around the lake. Occasionally, I’d opt for an evening walk in a nearby urban residential area. It felt safer than the park after dark and offered more activities to see and take part in.B

Besides walking for exercise, I often chose to walk wherever I needed to go, as most places were conveniently within a 30-minute of my parents’ house. Stores, restaurants, supermarkets, parks, hospitals, gyms—everything was close by, including my relatives. One of my favorite things to do while staying in Vietnam was walking and taking in the lively sounds and rhythm of daily life.

I enjoyed my walks as it gave me a chance to talk to myself. It was a moment to reflect on the past, process what was happening, think about what the future might hold. Walking became a way to vent my emotions and connect with my inner self, feeling my fear, weakness, and vulnerability to understand their root causes. Also, it was time when I felt deeply grateful for the love, support and care I had received. Despite everything, I felt blessed.

Also, I ate a lot of good food. My mom is an amazing cook (so is my Dad, though he doesn’t cook everyday). She bought fresh groceries daily, prepared nutritious meals, got me juices, snacks and fruit that I liked. She even served me breakfast in my room – sticky rice, “bánh bao” (steamed ground pork buns), “bánh dày giò” (Vietnamese sausage mochi sandwich), or even “bún chả” (grilled pork with rice noodles dipped in sweet-sour fish sauce), often while I was still asleep. During the day, she would bring me fruit or snacks, and if I happened to mention a dish or fruit I liked, I’d have it the very next day, though I never expected her to. I felt so blessed. At an age when many people are caring for their parents, I still get to be her child, and also my sister’s little sibling as well.

Every weekend, we’d go out for breakfast, and she always let me choose where to eat, never minding if it meant walking a long way. I also loved going to the market with her and enjoyed little treats she bought me, like “bánh rán” (deep-fried sticky rice ball filled sweet with mung bean paste).

My mom didn’t just cook me delicious food; she also cleaned my room and gathered my laundry to wash whenever she came in.

I’m so lucky to have my mom in my life. She’s a doer, not a talker—active, hardworking, disciplined, honest, and never one to procrastinate. She’s frugal yet generous, strong and caring, and always takes responsibility for everything she does.

When I was about to start IVF in Vietnam, she handed me some money, saying it was mine. I was completely surprised until she explained that it was the leftover living expenses I had given her after graduating, many years ago. She had saved it all these years, putting it in the bank to earn interest, and now she wanted me to have it because she knew I needed it for IVF. It was one of the sweetest and most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received.