After having been married for 5 years without successfully conceiving a child...we started seeing an ob (who claimed to help infertile couples with some measure of success). Over the years we found that I had endometriosis, fibroid tumors, a left tube that was badly scarred and blocked, and my husband had borderline sperm count and motility. The next 8 years were spent on and off increasingly more aggressive medications and dozens of artificial inseminations. The medication caused numerous cysts and after HSG's, 2 laps to remove endo and a laparotomy to remove most of my right ovary, we were in worse shape than ever. And now I was facing an age factor too. I was 35.

We took over a year off and had pretty much decided that a child free life was going to be our way....but both of us had the nagging feeling we should go for the big guns IVF to avoid any regrets that we hadn't tried it all. We saved our pennies and dollars for over a year. We went to a fertility specialist, got all the info we needed and went to Mexico to get some fertility medication. During my first cycle of IVF, 8 eggs were retrieved, 6 fertilized and after 3 days, 4 embryos were good enough to transfer. We had the transfer done Easter Sunday. Our baby was born the day before my 37th birthday. 16 years of infertility had been blown away by that one special day.

Even while on the delivery table, I was asking the Dr, if I looked to be in good enough shape to have another baby. I was concerned over my age. He said that I held up as well as any patient he had 10 years younger than me. We went for another IVF two Easters later. Again 8 eggs were retrieved, 6 fertilized (this time with the assistance of ICSI and assisted hatching) and by day 3, the day of transfer, only three were good enough to transfer. The nurse explained as gently as she could that the embryo quality was not very good, but since we had come this far, we should probably proceed with the transfer. I cried through the whole procedure..it all seemed so futile.

The day I was supposed to get the pregnancy test, I felt the old familiar back cramps starting (my precursor to menses). I just knew this cycle was a failure and did not want the pregnancy test done. I just wanted my period to start so I could get it over with. My dear, loving husband convinced me to have the blood test done anyway.....I wanted a pitcher of margaritas instead, but we took the test and... Oh my G**...it was another positive result. We had baby #2 the day before baby #1's second birthday and two days before my 39th birthday.

I will forever be grateful for the loving people that helped me have the family I never thought would happen: the clinic, my husband, the caring doctors and the sweet, loving nurses.