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  • First-ever improvement: IVF Cycle 9

    My ninth IVF cycle was full of twists and turns. At one point, it felt like it was going to be the worst cycle, but in the end, it became the one where I had my first real “victory”.

    Given my age and repeated IVF failures, I was exploring all options, including Human Growth Hormone (HGH). I learned that it isn’t just used to promote growth in children; it’s also used by adults, like gym enthusiasts, for building muscles (illegal??), and is even considered as an off-label treatment in IVF to potentially improve egg and embryo quality. This encouraged me to ask my doctor for a prescription. I needed to know the dosage, frequency, timing, and duration of injections. He didn’t give me a straight answer, repeating that there wasn’t a protocol and insufficient research for IVF use. He never actually said no, but the first time he told me I was on my own, I knew what he meant. I understood his position—he couldn’t risk his career prescribing something unofficial, though I was willing to take responsibility. Although some sources suggested HGH wasn’t beneficial for IVF, given my circumstances and the lack of identified major risks, I decided to take the chance and manage the HGH injections myself.

    In IVF, the most commonly used HGH is Omnitrope, but I couldn’t find it in VN. In fact, finding HGH there wasn’t easy at all. The only type available to me was Saizen, which I had read about being used in IVF treatments in Australia.

    I’d bought one box of 6 mg Saizen as a sample to show it to my doctor, hoping to convince him to prescribe HGH for me. However, 1.5 months later, when I tried to buy more, it was no longer available, and no one could tell me when it might be back on the market. This scarcity was completely unexpected. Though I called many big pharmacies, I still had no luck.

    The only place I hadn’t contacted was the National Children’s Hospital, so I decided to give it a try as a last resort. I had avoided hospital pharmacies before because they usually required doctors’ prescriptions, which I didn’t have. On my way to the hospital’s main gate, I noticed many pharmacies lining the street, so I thought, why not stop by one of them first?

    The pharmacy didn’t have the hormone I needed in stock, but after several calls, the owner said he could get a different one for me. The new one was Genotropin, but it shared the same main active ingredient. And I would have to wait until the next day as the drug was being brought in by air. This informal import method, known as “Hàng xách tay” (hand-carried goods), is quite common in Vietnam.

    HGH protocols vary widely in terms of dosage, total injection days, and timing. Some doctors recommend starting injections on the first day of stimulation and continuing until the egg retrieval day. Others suggest priming with HGH weeks before stimulation and continuing through the process until the booster shot. Some patients only use it for a few days during stimulation.

    Based on what I had read, I decided to take 1mg per day, starting from the first stimulation day until the booster shot. This seemed to be the most common protocol I came across. I aligned the timing with my stimulation injections, which made things easier. Using Saizen was simple and straightforward, the Genotropin pen was a nightmare to set up. The instructions were confusing, and the pen’s design was far more complicated compared to Saizen.

    I nervously tried to set the dose, worried I’d break the pen. If that happened, I’d be totally screwed. I just couldn’t figure it out, and as the time I was supposed to inject came and went, I got even more anxious. Finally, I gave up and ran to the nearest hospital to ask for help.

    At first, some of the staff I asked thought it would be simple, but they quickly realized the drug was quite special and unfamiliar to them. Since I didn’t have a prescription, most of them refused to assist me. Only one doctor stayed, saying she could tell by my expression that I was desperately seeking help. Together, we watched YouTube videos and followed the manual, trying to figure out how to set up the pen. She twisted and turned the pen’s knob vigorously while I was afraid she might break the pen. Finally it worked. I was super relieved at first but then felt so bummed when I realized I’d lost half the drug during setting it up.

    Deep down, I was still grateful that, thanks to her help, I was finally able to take the injection. Since the pen came with a larger dose—12 mg, the only option available—instead of the smaller dose I had originally intended to buy, I was fortunate to still have enough medication left, even after losing half of it.

    The ninth cycle could have been a huge disappointment for me, but in the end, it brought so many unexpected surprises.

    At the baseline ultrasound, everything looked good with two follicles on the left and two on the right. I started daily injections of Puregon 300 IU from 06/08/24, added IVF 75 IU from 06/12/24 and Orgalutran from 06/14/24. However, during the stimulation process, my follicles developed very slowly. Midway through, one follicle grew much larger than the others, which was not ideal, as I hoped for more evenly growing follicles. I continued with the stimulation, hoping the smaller follicles would catch up with the larger one, but unfortunately, that didn’t happen. The largest follicle measured 19 mm while the second one was 10 mm. My doctor then recommended a dual stimulation cycle, where I would undergo egg retrieval to collect the large follicle and immediately continue stimulation to encourage the growth of the remaining follicles.

    At first, I was hesitant, worried that I might end up with nothing. Many people fail to get any embryos, even after retrieving a lot of eggs, so I wasn’t sure how things would go with just one follicle. It’s also common to retrieve fewer eggs than the baseline number. I was leaning toward the idea of ignoring the large follicle and letting the smaller ones continue to grow. However, both the doctor and a patient I spoke with suggested that the large follicle might actually be the best, as it could have the most nutrients. That reasoning made sense to me.

    I underwent egg retrieval after seven days of stimulation, preparing for none to be retrieved, but luckily I secured two eggs, and both fertilized successfully. Amazingly, according to the embryologist, the embryos’ quality had improved significantly. Both showed good cell division, normal morphology, and minimal fragmentation on day three, and one even had the potential to reach the blastocyst stage by day five. Also, this time around, I didn’t have the bad pain like I did after egg retrievals in the past. I think the anesthesiologist adjusted my meds after I told them how bad it was then, and it made a huge difference.

    This result might be devastated to many IVF patients, but for me, it was a milestone, marking a big improvement after so many attempts to just get one good egg and then a good embryo. Though the embryos weren’t graded as “good”, the embryologist said they were much better, which meant the whole world to me.

    I took a break of four or five days after the egg retrieval but continued injecting HGH before starting the second phase of stimulation. Unfortunately, the follow-up ultrasound showed that all the follicles were gone or as the doctor put it, “ruptured.” So, I never got the chance to experience the dual stimulation process.

    As for my two embryos, I didn’t want to risk waiting until day five because they were all I had, and I didn’t want to lose them. Usually, the number of embryos that develop on day five is much lower than than the number of embryos on day three. For patients with fewer embryos, doctors typically recommend freezing or transferring on day three. So, I decided to freeze my two embryos on day three.

    At first, I thought about a fresh transfer because my progesterone was fine. I once had a day-3 embryo in the US, but at that time, my body wasn’t ready for a fresh transfer because my progesterone was high. Unfortunately, that one didn’t make it past dat four.

    After thinking it over, I decided not to go for a fresh transfer. I wanted one more cycle to hopefully collect more embryos. Maybe the next cycle would be the one that maximized the benefits of the PRP and HGH injections. After a month of HGH priming and PRP injections, I was hoping for a better outcome. Given my age, my low ovarian reserve, and poor egg quality, I didn’t want to miss this “golden” opportunity to gather more embryos. If I did a fresh transfer, it could delay another egg retrieval, and with so many uncertainties along the way, it could end up wasting precious time. So, I made the decision to hold off on the fresh transfer.

    After nine cycles, I finally saw some improvements in the quality of my embryos. I finally got three day-3 embryos to freeze (I wasn’t too hopeful about the one from the 8th cycle due to its very poor quality), and freezing it on day three wasn’t really my choice—it was just what I had to do to avoid losing it). The ninth cycle was a milestone, showing some progress, which renewed my hope. Instead of freezing two embryos in one tube, I decided to freeze them separately. While this meant higher storage costs and would double the transfer costs, I didn’t want to risk losing everything at once in case both embryos didn’t work. By transferring one at a time, I could hold onto hope if the first one didn’t succeed. That was how I dealt with my emotional stress.

    In short, the ninth cycle was like a roller coaster. I started off “high” on PRP and HGH, hoping they would improve my results, then felt down as the follicles grew unevenly, and I faced the possibility of no eggs after retrieval. But then I was back up with two decent day-3 embryos and the hope of collecting more during the second stimulation phase. The ride leveled out when dual stimulation didn’t happen, but in the end, I was still happy with the results.

  • IVF Cycle 8

    When my seventh IVF cycle failed after all the efforts I’d put into improving my fertility health, I went through the darkest days of my life—days I will never forget. I was losing so much of myself, something I never expected. The toll this journey took on me was beyond anything I could have imagined. I felt pressed and crushed. You would never know the depth of it until you’re already caught in that spiral, and by then, it’s too late to back off without pain or exhaustion.

    I don’t think words can be enough to express how I felt, or maybe I’m just not capable of expressing it through words. All I can say is that I was living through the hardest days of my life. It was a lonely journey, one I accepted because it was my choice, whether voluntary or not. I had love and support—more than I ever expected—so there was no reason to moan about it. My focus was on doing my best to deserve the good things I had received along this challenging path.

    My eighth cycle began with a host of fertility issues: endometriosis, low egg ovarian reserve, poor egg quality, and poor sperm quality. It felt like every obstacle was in my way.

    I had been focusing on eating healthy, staying active, going to bed early, and minimizing stress, but the results still hadn’t improved. To prepare for this cycle, I added acupressure and reflexology twice a week, and my acupuncturist had me doing acupuncture every day except Sundays. I also researched a method called PRP (Platelet-Rich Plasma), which has been used recently in the US and other developed countries. It’s said to help rejuvenate ovaries, potentially improving the quality of eggs by up to 50%. There was a lot of debate about this method, with some people dismissing it as just a marketing gimmick, while others considered it a game-changer. On Reddit, many IVF patients who tried it shared positive results. However, it was completely new in Vietnam. The only information I could find here was a short YouTube clip from a scientific conference—it wasn’t educational, just an introductory video.

    When I brought up this method to my doctor, he was surprised I’d heard of this since at that time, PRP injections were still being researched and hadn’t yet received national medical approval there.

    I shared the documents and videos I had collected in English for his reference. He said he could go ahead with it, but I would have to take full responsibility for any consequences. That wasn’t a problem for me because I trusted him, and I knew this method was relatively safe since it uses the patient’s own blood.

    I was scheduled for PRP injections really quickly, on day 6 of my cycle. One of the things I really appreciate about treatments in Vietnam is how flexible the timing is. You don’t have to wait long to book an appointment, and this flexibility extends to almost every step of the medical process, saving a lot of time on administration, preparation, and procedures.

    On the day of the procedure, the doctor drew two tubes of my blood and injected around 4 ml of plasma into my ovaries while I was under anesthesia. Afterward, I felt fine, just experiencing some light cramps and more discharge than usual, which lasted a few days.

    For the procedure, my doctor administered two PRP injections, one in each ovary. Other doctors I’ve read about do multiple injections at different spots on the ovaries, and the amount of plasma used can vary. It really depends on the doctor and clinic, as PRP is not universally accepted or practiced the same way everywhere. A quick online search showed that PRP treatment was around $5,000 in the US, but I only paid 10 million VND (~$400) there.

    Besides PRP, Human Growth Hormone (HGH) injections are also believed to help improve egg quality and have been used in the US. However, it was something completely new in VN. When I mentioned it to my doctor, he was surprised. I told him I wanted to give it a try, but he was hesitant because there wasn’t an established protocol for it yet.

    During my treatment in VN, my conditions worsened, and with doctors juggling so many patients, I realized I needed to take a more proactive approach in finding ways to improve my fertility. I couldn’t expect a doctor to go beyond researching my case or take the initiative to explore new protocols or treatments that might work better for me. I used to feel upset and disappointed, wishing my doctor would do more, but over time, I understood that maybe I was expecting too much. I came to appreciate my doctor for listening to and respecting my thoughts, as well as for his support and attention. These meant a lot to me because it’s stressful for any patient to work with a doctor who assumes they know nothing.

    28 days after the PRP injections on 04/18/24, I started my eighth IVF cycle on 05/16/24. I had daily injections of Pergoveris300 IU for 8 days, added Orgalutran in the mornings starting from 05/20/24, then injected a dual booster of Fertipeptil 0.1 mg and Ovitrellte 250 mg on 05/23/24. My follicles measured 17, 15 mm (L) and 17, 15 mm (R) on the booster day. I got 3 eggs retrieved and only one day-3 embryo, which was frozen the same day. The embryologist explained that the embryo would be unlikely to survive until day 5, and they don’t typically freeze embryos on day 4. The embryologist noted that the embryo’s development was abnormal during cell division, with the cells not dividing clearly, and the fragmentation percentage was over 50%, which was very high.

    Having just one frozen day-3 embryo didn’t mean my results had improved, but it did help my emotions. At least I didn’t end the cycle with nothing. There was still some hope, though minimal, because if there hadn’t been, there wouldn’t have been any reason to freeze it.

    Was I disappointed with the result? No. I had started to become familiar with repeated failures and unexpected occurrences. Gradually, I accepted that being a biological mother might not be for me. I was just trying to do what I could to avoid regret later on. After the eighth cycle, I started to realize the toll it had taken on my body. Since the seventh cycle, my body had ached severely after egg retrieval, even though I had few eggs retrieved. It felt like I was “paralyzed” the day after the procedure. My upper body felt stiff and tight, and whenever I moved, my muscles seemed to “retract,” making breathing incredibly painful. I had to sleep sitting up. In past cycles, I never experienced this kind of pain and never needed pain relievers after retrieval. When the pain first hit, I didn’t even remember the pain relievers I had been prescribed. This time, I took pain relievers, but they only helped a little.

    The pain was a wake-up call, making me think about putting an end to this journey. I started to worry about the long-term consequences of the continuous IVF cycles. I started to accept that I had done enough. It was time to stop, take care of myself, and consider a different path.

    However, since PRP injections are believed to be effective for up to three months and I still had nearly two months left, I didn’t want to miss the chance. So, I decided to continue the ninth cycle, this time trying HGH.

  • 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.

    —–

    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.

  • Failed IVF Cycle 6

    My IVF journey in Vietnam started with choosing a doctor, banking sperm, handling paperwork, and eventually undergoing Cycle 6. No matter how much you prepare, life has a way of throwing surprises at you, and this journey was no exception—it was filled with ongoing obstacles.

    Chosing IVF doctor

    The first doctor I met was a specialist I found online, known for his credibility and success with celebrity patients. However, during my first visit, I didn’t feel a connection with him, and that was important to me. I decided to see another doctor—an associate professor and a highly regarded expert in the field my sister recommended. I felt much more comfortable talking with him, and he took the time to review my medical records and give thoughtful feedback on the medications and protocols I had previously used.

    I need a doctor I can communicate with—someone who listens, makes time for their patients, and doesn’t make me feel like I’m rushing or taking up too much of their time. This doctor gave me the impression that he truly cared and left me feeling hopeful that he could help make my journey a success.

    His office was inside an IVF hospital, which I hadn’t realized at first. I met him in the evening, and it didn’t seem unusual since many doctors there work extra hours after their regular 9-to-5 shifts. Initially, I thought he worked for the hospital, but it turned out he owned the clinic and collaborated with the hospital. The setup had its drawbacks. Unlike at a hospital, where multiple doctors might be involved in your treatment, here you only have one primary doctor. While it’s possible to seek second opinions elsewhere, it’s harder to receive the same level of care as a direct patient. At a hospital, however, since all the doctors work within the same system, you will likely receive similar care from each one. Despite this, I had no plans to switch doctors because, as I mentioned, he’s one of the top IVF experts.

    Banking sperm

    In the second half of November, S was in Vietnam to go with me to the hospital and bank his sperm. As part of the process, he had several blood tests and a general health check. His samples were then analyzed to ensure they met the requirements for freezing and storage.

    Given my repeated failures in the past, I anticipated needing several IVF cycles, so we decided to store six tubes of sperm. Initially, we planned for just four, but on two occasions, they collected more than one tube, and since all were qualified for freezing, we chose to store them all.

    S received an FTA card for both his blood and sperm identification each time they were collected. The total cost for banking six tubes and four FTA cards was VND 17 million ($670)

    Although his specimens were qualified for freezing, they were honestly of the poorest quality compared to the previous ones. Still, they were all we had, and I knew I would be relying on them throughout the IVF journey.

    My doctor knew about my husband’s sperm quality, but he didn’t seem too concerned. In IVF, as long as men have sperm, doctors tend to focus more on the woman’s issues. I was told that women contribute to about 80% of the success rate in IVF.

    Paperwork legalization

    While we were doing the preliminary health checks and blood tests, we met with the administration department to make sure we didn’t miss any documents. This was really important to us because I didn’t want any delays due to a missing signature or paperwork that didn’t meet their requirements. Since my husband was still there, I wanted to ensure we had everything we needed.

    Since we got married in the US and my husband is non-Vietnamese, we had to notarize his passport and get our marriage license verified by a local American authority to confirm it was legitimate. After that, the legalization and translation were processed by a Vietnamese consulate. The whole process was time-consuming, especially at the consulate. We ended up paying around $300 just for the legalization and translation of our marriage certificate, along with four copies.

    I prepared the documents in 2020, as we had planned to do IVF in VN. However, right after that, the COVID pandemic hit and lasted for two years, putting everything on hold. Honestly, I felt a sense of relief as we prepared for the IVF journey in VN, as I didn’t have to worry about the documents anymore.

    In addition to those documents, we had to prepare authorization papers for sperm use and embryo transfer, which had to be notarized since S wouldn’t be there during the IVF process. The authorization forms were provided by the hospital, and each hospital has its own policy on this. The one where I received treatment only allowed the authorization to be used three times before a new one would be required. However, in practice, this can be flexible. Instead of getting a new one, you can write an application letter (using the hospital’s form) explaining the situation and confirming that you and your husband are still married, with the understanding that the hospital won’t face any legal issues.

    I was hopeful about doing IVF in Vietnam for several reasons. First, I had great support and care from my family there. Second, a change in environment and atmosphere would positively impact my mood. Additionally, there were many reputable hospitals and doctors to choose from, IVF support services were available and affordable, and treatments were quick and flexible. On a more spiritual note, as a Vietnamese, I felt I might have better luck in the country where I was born and raised. But above all, what mattered most to me was that I thought doctors in Vietnam would offer a more personalized treatment plan, rather than the one-size-fits-all approach I had experienced at my clinic in the US. At that clinic, you’d start with birth control pills no matter what, and while I understand the reasoning behind it, there was little flexibility or alternatives if you didn’t want to go that route again. I was confident that there were no issues with the quality or quantity of my eggs; I just needed a better protocol.

    Cycle 6

    On November 30, 2023, I had an appointment on day 2 of my period. The ultrasound showed I only had 6 eggs on the right and 2 on the left, a significantly reduced number. My AMH had dropped from 2.69 to 1.49 in just two months, which was a huge shock. I hadn’t expected such a rapid decline. But then I realized that for women undergoing IVF, egg count can decrease much faster compared to those who aren’t. Considering my age, the new circumstances, and the fact that I was getting treatment outside the US, time was more critical than ever. I really wanted to start my treatment as soon as possible to make the most of my time there.

    However, my FSH improved a bit to 12.25, down from 15.1, which was a positive sign. But, IVF doctors generally consider FSH levels as high once they are elevated, even if the current reading is normal at the time of treatment.

    I remember that my IVF doctor in the US mentioned my FSH was a bit high, but she wasn’t overly concerned about it. She focused much more on my AMH levels and follicle count during baseline ultrasounds. However, when I consulted with an IVF doctor in Vietnam, he said outright that I would never be successful with such a high FSH and recommended waiting at least three months. That was really discouraging. But when I raised the concern with my doctor in the US, she reassured me that she wasn’t too worried about that level. At the time, since I was undergoing treatment in the US, I chose to trust her judgment.

    Back to Cycle 6, I started stimulation on 11/30/2023, for eight days, beginning with Pergoveris 300 IU and adding Orgalutran on day 6, 12/05/2023. The process was simple and quick. The ultrasound showed good results, and my blood tests were normal. On Day 8, 12/07/2023, I had six follicles measured at 19, 17, 16, 15 and 14 mm before the trigger shot that night. Then, the retrieval day arrived, and the doctor retrieved four eggs. Three of them were degraded, and the last one was abnormal. My doctor said my eggs looked like those of a 48-year-old woman. I felt completely emotionless hearing that. Maybe it was because I already knew how tough this journey had been for me, though I hadn’t prepared for zero fertilization in this cycle. That comment only reminded me that the obstacles had become tougher, and I needed to try harder rather than give up.

    He recommended using donor eggs, but I declined. He suggested taking a break and starting treatment again after the Lunar New Year, which made sense. The festival was approaching, and people were already slowing down their activities to prepared for the New Year. Plus, normal routines wouldn’t fully resume until a month after the Lunar New Year, as everyone would still be caught up in the festive atmosphere with plenty of gatherings and celebrations.

    Above all, I truly felt I needed a break, something I hadn’t had in almost two years of continuous treatments. The challenges kept piling up, and the dark days of November 2023 really knocked me down. I was drained. Taking time off to focus on improving my health became essential, and I had a plan in mind for it.

    I forgot to mention one more thing. After the fertilization failed, I spoke with the embryologist, in charge of the fertilization. She was quite pessimistic about our chances of success, given the quality of both. She said that after thawing, none of the sperm were mobile. She told me that if our eggs and sperm didn’t improve, it would be difficult to expect a better outcome.

    I told my doctor that I wanted to use my husband’s sperm, which had been stored at a different hospital since 2020, for the next cycle. His sperm quality back then was much better than the one stored at the hospital where I was currently being treated. Unfortunately, the hospital didn’t accept his sperm from a different facility, and that really bothered me. Given what the embryologist had told me about the poor quality of both his sperm after thawing and my eggs, I started to wonder if I should change my doctor and do IVF at the hospital where my husband’s better sperm was being stored.

    I had done an IUI once at that hospital, and honestly, when S stored his sperm there, we hadn’t really thought through a solid plan. It was a public hospital, so it’s no surprise that it was always crowded, with hours of waiting just to have a few minutes with the doctors (there were no appointment bookings available). S didn’t have a positive experience there, mainly due to concerns about hygiene and clinical practices. His worry about hospitals in VN, in general, was that the overcrowding could lead to mistakes, infections, or cross-contamination. It wasn’t that the doctors weren’t good, but there were just too many patients, and the rules of practice weren’t as strict as they were in the US. When I did IUI there, a staff member actually mistook my medical records for someone else’s, and my doctor reviewed the ultrasound image with the wrong date. They didn’t realize the mistakes until I pointed them out. This experience only added to S’s concerns about doing IVF in VN.

    I’m not sure why I’m bringing this up, probably it helps explain why I had chosen a different hospital, instead of the one, where my husband’s better sperm was stored. Considering the failure of Cycle 6 due to the poor quality of both my eggs and my husband’s sperm, I didn’t know what the right move was for the next cycle. Should I switch doctors? Switch hospitals? I couldn’t make up my mind at the time, so I decided to sleep on it and focus on improving my health.

  • Failed IVF Cycle 5

    8/29/2023, started with a glimmer of hope.

    Since this was my last cycle in the US, I was very careful to order only the amount of medication I needed to avoid waste. Timing was tricky too. I had to plan ahead to avoid missing doses as my pharmacy didn’t deliver on Sundays. This meant a Monday morning dose could be late, especially with my early injections. Because I only ordered enough drugs, no extra, I didn’t account for possible delivery delays. One Monday, I ran out of Gonal F and freaked out. Fortunately my clinic loaned me a pen. The total cost for medication this cycle was over $6,000.

    My baseline scan showed 16 follicles on the left, 6 on the right. After 1.5 months on birth control pills, I began stimulation: Lupron 40 units on day 1, then 20 units with 225 units of Gonal-F twice daily from day 2 – very high doses. By day 15, 9/15/2023, the ultrasound showed only one at 18.5 mm on the left, and three at 22, 19.9 and 16.9 mm on the right. That was it.

    I triggered with Pregnyl 10,000 and had the retrieval on September 17th. They retrieved three eggs—one was abnormal, two fertilized. By day four, there were no embryos.

    Cycle five had failed. Five attempts, five heartbreaks. I was exhausted, but this failure didn’t surprise me as it had happened repeatedly.

    S didn’t want me to continue IVF. This journey had been more than enough for him and he wanted us to focus on something more realistic. But I had reasons, for myself, for him and for us (…) to keep going. I had already planned to continue in VN if this cycle failed. With top IVF hospitals, clinics and doctors in Hanoi, I was positive I would receive excellent care and with my family there, my overall health would greatly improve, which would lead to better results.

    I bought a one-way ticket to VN in late October, just before my expected period so I could see a doctor shortly after it started. While I was preparing for this next chapter, our relationship had been badly damaged. But I really didn’t have time to think it through; I just knew I had to act quickly since I was turning 40 soon.

  • Moving Day

    November 18th,

    Life is beautiful, but bitter at times. I need to accept that as part of the experience. What really matters is that I stick to my purposes and goals. These keep me moving forward, help me focus on what’s truly important, instead of pain. Life goes on no matter what, and my peace and joy are mine to protect.

    ….

    We woke up at six, made coffee and took showers. Since I didn’t have time to run a load of laundry, I just threw the wet towels and shower curtain into the dryer for 15 minutes – just enough to keep them from smelling bad or getting moldy. At seven, he got Sam to take half a sedative pill to help him stay calm in the car during the trip.

    I packed up the last few things in the bathroom, and threw blankets I had left out, thinking they might be useful for wrapping, into baskets along with a big tray. S kept worrying that the movers might not accept the baskets as they weren’t in boxes and he hadn’t included them on the item list. His concerns didn’t make sense to me and if that were true, the “moving rules” were overly strict. It’s normal for not everything to fit into a box, and listing every single miscellaneous item isn’t realistic. There should be some flexibility.

    I wasn’t home when the movers arrived around 9:30 as I had a doctor’s appointment. When I got back in the afternoon, S told me they’d asked for an additional $1,600, and he felt he was forced to say yes because everything had to stay on schedule. I didn’t ask for the details – I was in a bad mood that day.

    At 5:32 pm, the movers were still wrapping and loading our stuff.

    Waiting around with nothing to do wasn’t fun. They didn’t finish until around 8 p.m.

    After S signed the completion form, it was already too late for us to vacuum, wipe the floors, or pick up the trash. If we had done the move ourselves, we would’ve had much more control. We could’ve loaded most of our things the day before, vacuumed the same day, and left a few essentials to grab the next morning, followed by a quick final clean. That way, we’d have had plenty of time and could’ve enjoyed the drive. With the moving company, everything depended on their timeline. All we did was wait around until the evening. Since we couldn’t leave early, S had to call his boss and ask for an extra day off work, and drive overnight to our new place – no sleep at all.

    Because it was late, we just decided to skip cleaning the house and start driving instead. S would go back the following weekend to clean it, as our truck, 4-wheeler, lawn mower, and some of his tools were still there.

    The trip wasn’t fun because we had to take care of Sam. While Dozer sat quietly the whole time, Sam was a different story. Though we gave him another half of the pill, he still moaned, cried, and moved around in the car. We had to take turns holding him on our laps. Our clothes and the car were full of his hair.

    We arrived at the new house around 5 the next day, slept on a thin mattress on the floor that we had brought with us.

    The moving company called later and said there was an issue with the truck, so they would not deliver until 3 pm the next day. Since we didn’t have much to do, we spent the rest of the day exploring the city, and it was so beautiful.

  • A week before the move

    11/13, 9:36, scooped Sam’s litter and replenished it. Felt good to get that out of the way first thing as I didn’t want it lingering on my mind while doing other chores or risk Sam getting upset and choosing a different spot. Did the laundry before deep cleaning the kitchen. Washing clothes first allowed me to make better use of my time, as I could clean the kitchen while the washer was running. In the kitchen, I started with the fridge, then the microwave, stove, hood and countertops.

    Between cleaning, I kept the laundry going and brushed Dozer’s fur – he sheds heavily in the fall. At 2:01 pm, had “Bánh bao” for lunch. It’s a soft, fluffy, steamed bun filled with seasoned ground pork, boiled egg, and sausage. At 4:09 pm, did the third load of laundry, walked Dozer, fed D&S, made a quick trip to Dollar General for tape and dish soap.

    11/14, didn’t sleep enough. Breakfast was “Bánh bao” and a small bowl of ground pork and bamboo shoot congee. Took prenatal vitamins, vit D and baby aspirin. At 8:41 , started the first load of laundry with the mats. At 9:26, did the second load with Dozer’s bed covers and blanket, cleaned the trash cans, vacuumed carpets, and packed pantry items.

    Saturday, 11/15, S came home. Every Friday, he drove over 10 hours straight after work, spent Saturday at home, and left early Sunday morning for the same long drive back to work. In NC, where we were going to move to, we had finished buying the house. S moved out of the Airbnb he had been staying for over a month, cleaned it before leaving, and moved all his belongings into the new house. He also hired a cleaning company for a move-in service, which cost $125/person/hr, much more expensive than a standard cleaning. Then, he transfered all the utility accounts to ensure gas, electricity, water and trash pickup were ready to use. At the same time, he contacted insurance providers to get quotes for our house in AL. Since we are going to rent it, the rental insurance rate is much higher than that of the primary residence policy. He moved between places, and took care all of these tasks while keeping up with his professional work. His ability to multitask and manage his time so efficiently is something I deeply admire—it’s a kind of organization I struggle with.

    That day, our kind neighbor walked over with some satsumas and a pack of fresh bass he’d caught. I really like him and his wife – they are so caring and generous and they keep their house and vehicles spotless. Their house is in pristine condition and it’s no exaggeration to say that you’d be hard-pressed to find a single leaf in their yard. What’s especial is that they are both in their 70s, yet their energy, dedication and discipline are truly inspiring. In the afternoon, we went to Carrabba’s , our favorite Italian restaurant, for lunch. I enjoy everytime we are there. I had a grilled scallop salad, chicken soup, garlic and lemon butter mussels (Cozze Bianco), and a classic platter with calamari, Mozzarella Marinara and grilled bread topped with ricotta and tomatoes. I especially loved Cozze Bianco. The flavor was pleasantly tangy, creamy without being heavy. Though this time the sauce was thicker but it’s still one of the best dishes on the menu.

    Anyway, it was late, 10:36 pm. I took a shower, relaxed for a bit before getting ready for bed. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

    11/16, the last cleaning day. Did the laundry and cleaned the bathrooms. S told me not to clean until after we finished all packing. However, I didn’t want to leave for the last minute. Moving day always makes me nervous and distracted, so I’d rather get the deep cleaning done beforehand.

    That day was also my last cooking day. I didn’t feel like it, but I didn’t want to bring raw food on the road. Cooked food, especially meat, is much easier and less messy to store. I hadn’t bought many groceries since we were ready to leave, but we ate out a lot that week. In total, there were about 10 to 12 small packages of food. Thankfully, the cool and crisp weather made storing and transporting them much more convenient. I don’t usually store food in plastic bags because it feels wasteful to use them just once. But storing food in containers would take up a lot of room, so I just transfered all the food into plastic bags to save space. Then, I ran the last load of dishes so that I could pack up the rest.

    11/17, the day before the move. We actually had done most of the work, but when we looked around, it seemed there were a lot left to do, especially in the kitchen and bathroom. I did two loads of laundry, and packed all the remaining clothes and towels. I also packed the rest of the dishes. Previously, I used Amazon small boxes with notes on top. But then, I placed those small boxes into larger ones to reduce the number of boxes to carry. Then I cleaned the bathroom and packed up everything in there, leaving just a few things for use the next morning.

    I put my personal things in a backpack and used a bag to store the clothes that I might need for a week. We were informed that the delivery might take anywhere from 2 to 21 business days. The long waiting window was frustrating, but there was nothing we could do about it. Hopefully, it would come sooner, though I got enough clothes for seven days just in case.

    Then, I cleaned the toilet cleaning tools, and let them dry before putting them into a trash can so we wouldn’t need a box for them. Honestly, there wasn’t much left to do, but it took us the whole day to finish all the tasks. Finding a right place for things, reorganizing, and deciding what to keep or throw away are time-consuming, just like looking for things.

    Searching for items took time too. Sometimes, I forgot what I was looking for and where it was, so I ended up walking up and down, back and forth, trying to remember and find things. It got repetitive and wasted a lot of time. We were very careful about how many boxes we used because we didn’t want to exceed the number we’d told the moving company.

    In the afternoon, we had lunch at a Chinese buffet, then went back home to keep packing and cleaning. I wiped down the shelves in the kitchen, pantry, and master closet.

  • Master tongue control for natural, faster speech

    You’ve got the fast speech rules in American English—contractions, assimilation, elision, etc. Your pronunciation is clear, and expression isn’t an issue. Yet, you still notice a difference: you speak slowly and less smoothly compared to a native speaker. Have you ever wondered why? The answer lies in the tongue. It needs to be both flexible and stable, which helps you control your speed, while also ensuring your speech sounds natural and smooth. Think of your tongue as the accelerator, determining how fast or slow your speech flows. With the right placement and movement, it can achieve both flexibility and stability. Let’s look at why this matters and how to practice it.

    The tongue has three main parts: the tip, the body, which includes the blade, and back, and the root.

    When you’re about to speak, your tongue should be in a “tall” position. Specifically, the body should be slightly raised from the floor of the mouth, the tip should rest comfortably behind the bottom teeth, and the back should form a gentle arch near the roof of your mouth. From here, the blade moves subtly in various directions for different sounds. In this position, the tongue is closer to the front of the mouth, near the lips, teeth, and roof, which makes enunciation easier and faster.

    The key is to keep the tongue stable but flexible when moving. Without stability, it loses control; without flexibility, it gets rigid. You need to balance both by understanding the roles of the root and the blade and how they work together. The root, which attaches partly to the floor of the mouth and partly to the throat, provides stability. Think of it as an anchor that keeps your tongue’s movements under control, steady but not tense. If the root is rigidly tied down to the floor of the mouth or the back is raised too high, it restricts the rest of the tongue and makes your voice sound unnatural. If you feel tension, that’s a sign to relax.

    Once you have that stability, the blade needs flexibility. This is the most active part, doing most of the work in forming sounds. Its movements should be smooth and effortless to allow easy transitions between sounds. It doesn’t need to be aggressive or forceful, which would only slow you down and make your speech sound choppy or heavy. Keeping movements small and consistent helps you sound more natural and prevents your speech from feeling forced. When this part moves smoothly within a gentle range, you’ll notice faster, easier transitions between syllables, making your speech flow comfortably.

    As you speak, focus on the tongue and let the other articulators take a passive, supportive role. Picture the tongue as standing tall and comfortable as you speak—this will help your speech become faster and sound more natural. Avoid dropping your lower jaw too much, as this can make the root unstable. Don’t overuse your articulatory muscles, or your tongue will become tense and stiff. And most importantly, use your breath to raise the tongue forward. When you inhale, the tongue muscle (genioglossus) naturally moves forward, making the tongue “taller”.

    To ensure that the body and root of the tongue are relaxed, check the lingual frenulum (the strip under the tongue). If it’s tight, it indicates tension in the tongue. The frenulum should feel comfortably extended as you speak.

    In conclusion, balancing your tongue’s flexibility and stability is key to achieving native-like fluency. While there are lots of details to keep in mind as you practice, it really comes down to visualizing your tongue standing tall and relaxed. If it slips out of this position, use your breath to help you regain control.

  • Irreversible turning point

    I’m not sure where to start—there’s just so much I want to write about. Since August, so much has happened, and with November already coming, I feel like I really need to get my mind cleared and refreshed. This time has been intense and overwhelming, filled with fears, anxieties, and insecurities. But it’s also brought me so much love, happiness, and gratitude—more than I think I’ve ever felt before.

    This year felt like a low point in our relationship. I couldn’t find connection and sensed a great distance between us. He was still supportive and protective, but the kind of closeness we used to have seemed to have gone. Our conversations stayed on the surface—often small talk and updates on our days. I lost sight of my role in the relationship. I was filled with doubt, lacking confidence, positivity, and happiness. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask him; I already had enough on my plate. I could only focus on one thing at a time, so I accepted things as they were.

    I was living with fear, insecurity, and anxiety, praying every night for peace because that was all I could do at the time. Then an unfortunate event happened in the early days of August. We suffered loss but it was also a time I (maybe we) had also gained so much. I found my husband again, the same man I love. He was there—healthy, strong, and with the same resilient spirit I’ve always admired. He’s a fighter, always facing struggles head-on. As long as he remained the person I knew, I believe everything would eventually be fine though I didn’t know what would be waiting for us ahead. What I did know that we had each other, we were healthy and we were determined to find the fastest way to change the situation. And it was such an awe when he showed me how much he loves, needs, and values me. He kept telling me how important I am to him, and that I “define” him. All of these answered the questions I just couldn’t ask for so long. I had hesitated, fearing I might not get the answers I wanted or that I wouldn’t be ready to handle any unexpected truths. I kept my questions, insecurities, and doubts to myself. Amazingly, all my questions have unfolded without needing to be spoken.

    You might wonder why I didn’t ask sooner. If I had, I could have saved myself a lot of energy, fear, and insecurity, since everything turned out to be much better than I’d imagined. In hindsight, it’s easy to think I should have just asked. But back then, the circumstance was just so different. There was a tense vibe between us back then—a quiet negativity that lingered in the air. It felt like just opening my mouth could be misinterpreted, like I was about to say something negative. It was as if a small talk could quickly turn heated, without meaning it to. Sometimes, it seems like every effort and intention backfires, and nothing we do works or even makes things worse. I felt powerless, so I chose to accept things as they were and focus on what mattered most to me at the time, while hoping for the best.

    That event really helped me gain clarity on all my questions. Sometimes, the best action is to do nothing and wait for the right moment. It’s not easy, as it requires wisdom and trust in your instincts to recognize that moment. Once you identify it, you also need the courage to wait. Sometimes, it’s best to be patient and let things unfold naturally, just as they did for me.

    By the end of August, things improved beyond anything I could have imagined. S was busy with job applications, interviews, and phone calls.

    In September, he received multiple job offers with attractive salary packages, and the most lucrative ones were in big cities. This posted a challenge for us, as we were shocked by how high the rent and living costs were in those areas.

    We did some research on house rentals in the area and were astonished to discover that we couldn’t find a single-family home for less than $3,000. Even if we were willing to pay around that amount, our choices would still be limited. This was shocking, especially since we currently live in a comfortable place where everything is affordable. When we bought our current home, it was relatively inexpensive, and we were fortunate to find a nice house in a good neighborhood at a fair price. So, finding out that it was impossible to rent a single-family home for under $3,000 a month left us feeling stressed. Housing prices were even more astonishing, with costs around $700,000 for few listings. Both of us are willing to work hard and face challenges. S is incredibly strong, resilient, and intelligent. However, we also recognized the need to be realistic. While we don’t shy away from challenges or obstacles, it is important to choose what would be best for us without unnecessary headaches or excessive effort, as we want to enjoy life as well. Challenges can be beneficial for a certain period, but if they become chronic, they are unhealthy.

    Weighing all the pros and cons, S decided to accept an offer in a more affordable state. It wasn’t the best financially but the most suitable for us. First and foremost, he loves the nature and scope of the work, as it aligns with his expertise and experience. In this position, he focuses solely on engineering and technical aspects, which he has been doing comfortably for years. In contrast, the director positions he was offered would have required him to learn non-technical skills and adjust to fit those roles. Comfort is crucial. While financial considerations are undeniably important, a primary factor when accepting a job is whether someone can see themselves fulfilled in that role and envisioning a future there. I’m glad that S feels comfortable and assured in this position. Even though the overall benefits are slightly lower than those of other offers, and the career progression here isn’t clearly defined, it doesn’t matter as long as he enjoys what he does and our finances aren’t strained.

    Second, this position is located in a more affordable state, especially regarding housing prices. When he received the director offers, I felt proud of him and pleased with our progress in the job search. However, I also recognized the pressure and stress he would face with the move. Since we rely on a single income, he is solely responsible for our finances. Given that we aren’t getting any younger and also have other mortgages, the situation became more challenging. For the new job, our relocation would not be too far, meaning a considerable amount of our time, money, and energy on the move will be saved. Plus, we are much closer to our in-laws; taxes are lower, and the cost of living is more pleasant.

    House rentals in the new area are expensive though. However, honestly, S has never been fond of renting; he enjoys fixing and renovating homes. Working on the house after work is his hobby, and it’s a way for him to relieve stress. Also, being a renter comes with many restrictions that conflict with his passion for renovation. That’s why I understand that it’s important for us to buy a house rather than rent one.

    Townhouses, condos, or apartments aren’t for us because they don’t have a yard, which we need for D&S. Plus, they don’t give us enough privacy we’re looking for. With our limited budget, we were looking for a 2000-square-foot single-family house on a decent lot in a decent neighborhood; plus it should be close enough to the workplace and other amenities. What a challenge!

    I told myself that we didn’t need a nice home. We wouldn’t be worried about minor imperfections or damages—S actually prefers those because he wants to take on renovation projects. As long as there weren’t any major problems, like issues with the foundation, heating system, or leaks, we could handle everything else. We’ve made plenty of improvements and renovations in the past, so as long as we found such a house in a decent neighborhood, we could always make it better.

    S’s a handyman, and I don’t mind cleaning and taking care of the house. While we don’t have much money, we’ve got time, dedication, skills and hard work. We can turn a house into a home, and I see imperfections as real advantages, making it more affordable for us.

    Luckily, we finally found a house. It will need a lot of work, which we expected. It’s smaller than our desired size, but it’s adequate and meets our other criteria. I know that renovations won’t be cheap but we don’t have to tackle everything at once. We can take our time and do the work gradually, so we can enjoy life along the way.

    The house is in a suburb close to a big city, which means life will be more lively and bustling compared to where we currently live. That excites me, although it might not be as appealing to S since he’s more of a private person. I enjoy social connections, even though I don’t always need to engage with people. Just the feeling of being part of a community is fulfilling for me. I find that simply witnessing the hustle and bustle—traffic, people moving around, and everyday activity—is enough to make me feel socially connected.

    We scheduled the house closing for the first half of November. S took care of everything related to the home purchase, from working with the realtor to coordinating with the inspector and managing the loan application. I was really relieved that I didn’t have to go through that stressful process, especially with all the paperwork involved. Though I didn’t directly participate, we shared each step, discussing any issues we encountered, our concerns about the loan, interest rates, closing costs, and the house inspection report.

    In October, S started a new job. While waiting for the house closing, he is staying in an Airbnb and I’m home packing and cleaning the house to ensure it is ready for rent. Though the new job is over eight hours away from our home, S drives home every weekend to help me clean and do small fixes the rental management agent suggested. He’s actually been working on the house since we bought it, and once we knew we were going to relocate, he was even more proactive in the repair work.

    At the same time, S contacted several moving companies for quotes. His multitasking skills and time management are amazing while I feel ashamed because I struggle with these. As soon as he finishes his last workday, he drives home for over eight hours, which can take even longer if there’s heavy traffic. No matter how late he gets in, usually around midnight, he still wakes up early the next morning to get started on his tasks. He keeps a to-do list and works hard to check off as many tasks as he can. I’m truly grateful for everything he does and so proud of him.

    Back to the moving quotes, we were shocked when one estimate came in between $14,000 and $17,000. Well, with that amount, we could furnish our new house with all new stuff. Searching for more quotes, we eventually found the most affordable option at around $7,000. Yet, we aren’t sure about the final cost, as it will depend on the actual number of boxes to be moved. With this quote, we will leave the couch behind since it will cost $1,000 just to move it, and honestly, the couch is old enough to retire. We appreciate that S’s company will cover the moving costs, which is a huge help.

    This won’t be our first move; we’ve relocated several times before. Therefore, I know what to expect and have an idea of the workload ahead. In the past, we did everything ourselves for relocation. Back then, we were young and full of energy. Now, we’re both physically and mentally drained, so hiring a moving company will give us some relief and peace of mind.

    I’ve packed everything up, clearing out all the cabinets, drawers, storage areas, and closets, but I haven’t sealed the boxes yet. I keep them open in case I need to grab something or double-check items. I’ve packed some kitchen essentials and pantry goods and left a few items out for my daily routine. We’ve also donated several bags to a thrift store and thrown away items we no longer need. There are a few things I might post online to give away or sell for a little extra cash. I really dislike clutter, so I enjoy the process of decluttering, whether it’s through donating or tossing things out.

    S, on the other hand, is completely different; he likes to keep everything, even items he hasn’t touched in years. I jokingly call him “S Đồng nát,” similar to “Ông Đồng nát” (for men) or “Bà Đồng nát” (for women) in Vietnamese, which refers to someone who makes a living by collecting junk to sell for money. Though S doesn’t sell anything, he deserves this nickname because of his “hoarding” habit.

    Our two-car garage is full of the tools and various items I can’t even identify. But he’s a great packer. Everything in the garage was packed in just one afternoon. If it was me, it would have taken a week because I’m much slower and my packing process is very different. He just threw things into boxes until they were full, without worrying whether items were arranged properly or if the boxes were too heavy. He doesn’t care about organizing or categorizing for easier unpacking later on.

    For me, packing is an opportunity to reorganize, recategorize, declutter, and clean, items. It also gives me a chance to evaluate whether I really need certain things, which is why my process is much slower than his. However, both methods have their advantages, and in many cases, I think his approach is more efficient and less overwhelming, especially when dealing with a great deal of stuff under time constraints.

    After moving, we know there will be a lot of administrative work to take care of, like updating our address with the post office, DMV, utility providers, banks, insurance companies, and subscription services. Oh, we need to schedule dental and medical appointments too. It will take time before we can settle in.

    While we’re apart, we spend our evenings chatting on the phone, and I usually read a book aloud for us. Currently, we’re reading The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching by the late monk Thich Nhat Hanh. I understand the general concepts and feel the influence of Buddhism in my life, but I never actively sought out books on the subject. He’s the one who finds Buddhist books for us to explore together. Our spiritual journey is something special in our relationship, which depends our connection. I don’t know much about the religious aspects of Buddhism but we love its philosophy. I strongly believe daily Buddhist practice through mindfulness helps us find happiness, relief, and inner peace. We try to nourish gratitude, compassion, and patience in our lives. It’s not easy, but it’s a wonderful path to follow.

    Overall, August began with an irreversible turning point for us, marking the ups and downs we’ve faced since then. We’ve done our best to keep everything on track. As a team, S’s our leader, captain, and navigator, while S, D, and I have one mission: to give him lots of our love and trust. We’re still on this challenging path, but we’ll be alright because he’s an expert builder. Never forget that, my man!

  • Backyard Renovations: Flower bed & Deck

    When we first moved into our home, there was a corner of our backyard leading to a side gate that remained untouched—a neglected area under a large tree where nothing seemed to grow. It wasn’t a priority for S to improve this space, so we left it alone.

    Since the area was just a bare ground, I always avoided using that gate to minimize dirt and dust tracked into the house. However, that gate is S’s favorite entry, keeping the inside clean needed a lot of attention.

    This area never got much sunlight, so planting anything there was out of the question. I also noticed some utility flags in the area, which made fixing up more complicated. We never really had a serious conversation about working on this area, but it was always on my mind that I wanted to do something about it.

    From time to time, I considered a few ideas, like using gravels or pebbles, but those options weren’t right for us. Gravel would be difficult to maintain because the leaves from the big tree would be nearly impossible to clear. Pebbles may get slippery when it rains and could be dangerous. Pavers or concrete slabs were ruled out since S wanted to keep the area well-drained. Flagstones with rocks or gravels around the edges could be a good choice but again we had never seriously pursued it and it remained on my wishlist. 

    Then things changed. With S home more and us preparing to move and possibly rent out the place, we finally had a good reason to improve the area. But we were on a tight budget, and time was short.

    At first, I thought about creating a pathway  using flagstones, but I couldn’t quite figure out how to make it blend with the rest of the bare area. I tend to see things as a whole rather than in pieces, so I wanted something that would fit well. While brainstorming, I remembered how much I wanted a bench or a seating area around the tree. I started looking for photos of similar setups online, which sparked an idea: building a shallow deck.

    Inspired, I shared the idea with him, and he got to work designing a deck that would be affordable, easy to build, and leave room for future improvements if we wanted to expand it later. He’s built decks before, so it didn’t take him long, especially since it was a small area.

    We used leftover materials from previous projects, which kept the costs down. For the deck, we repurposed old bricks, originally used as a pathway that had become buried over time. S dug them out, laid them in rows to create a solid foundation for the wooden joists. While working, it started to rain, turning everything muddy, but he didn’t stop. That’s one of the things I respect most about him—his tenacity. Whether it’s raining or scorching hot, he works tirelessly to get things done.

    We used a thick wood panel for the joists, which we got at a 70% discount because it was warped. To straighten it, he first hammered wooden wedges on each side of the joist before nailing planks in place.

    Also, since we didn’t have enough joists as whole pieces, S joined short ones together. This isn’t ideal as a whole joist would be stronger but S made sure they were secured well.

    It took him just over two and a half days to finish, including time to buy materials and figure out the details. The deck is small but it’s enough to solve the problem of needing a pathway while leaving room for future expansion. I had really wanted a pathway to address the dirt issue, but I ended up with a deck, far beyond my expectation. So pleased!

    One of my favorite features of the deck is the small slopes he added at the ends. Initially, he used just one plank but the transition was quite abrupt. By adding a second one, the slope becomes more gradual, reducing the risk of trips and falls. Additionally, I love how he shaped the deck that followed the lines of the new flower bed and gate. It looks more integrated with the rest of the yard, rather than just being a plain rectangle or square.

    We also decided to designate a spot on one side of the deck for the trash can, keeping it simple with just a foundation. With some extra wood, he built a bench,  near the trash can. While it might be not ideal in terms of aesthetics or potential odors, adding a vertical panel in the future will help separate the two areas. Planting a bush or placing a flower planter next to the panel could keep the area looking vibrant and fresh. Personally, I don’t mind the trash can odors because I always try to keep everything, even the trash as clean as possible.

    Previously, we built an edge for a flower bed using timbers, but it wasn’t really to plant flowers or trees—just to find a place for some leftover soil. However, we didn’t use much soil since the new bed didn’t need a lot as S didn’t want to affect drainage near the house. While it looks a bit empty now, I’m still happy. I love how contours enhance shapes and structures. Also, with generous mulch and the right plants, I’m sure the bed will look beautiful.

    Overall, I think the total cost to fix up this area was around $800. This included leftover and new materials and accessories like timbers, lava rocks, mulch, planks, and more, which feels a bit pricey given the deck’s size. But it would have cost a lot more if we’d hired someone to do it.

    You might wonder why we’re still working on the house when we’re about to leave. The truth is, it’s our home, and we’ve put so much effort into it since we moved in. Even though we won’t be here much longer, we still want to finish what we’ve always planned to do.  

    PS: I”ll update more once the deck and bench are stained and sealed, and the trash can spot is set up.

    Update: Our new trash can pad