My Letter To You On Your Transfer Day
If you are about to go through your first embryo transfer, I want you know that I have been where you are.
I have sat exactly in the same place on that very bed for transfer day. I have also been filled with fear, anticipation, hope, and the kind of pressure that is hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t been through an embryo transfer.
First, I want you to pause and recognize what it took to get here. The appointments, the decisions, the injections, the waiting, the emotional weight of it all. This path asks more of you than most people will ever see or know themselves, and yet here you are. That says everything about your strength. This may not be the way you once imagined bringing a child into the world, but that doesn’t make this moment any less meaningful. You worked hard to get here, and that is something to honor.
You have already done everything you possibly can. The shots, the appointments, the monitoring, the procedures, the waiting, the endless Googling, the diets and supplements, the emotional rollercoaster… you have shown up for all of it. And now that you are ready to welcome that embryo that took an immense amount of work to create, so much of it is out of is now out of your hands. That can feel terrifying, but it can also be a moment to exhale. Give yourself permission to rest. Give yourself space to process. You have carried so much to get here. After today, there will be a lot you cannot control. So for now, your job is simply to rest. You have done what you can. The rest is no longer yours to carry.
The transfer itself may feel surprisingly quick. After everything that led up to it, the moment can feel almost anticlimactic. But this moment did not begin at your retrieval. It didn’t even begin when you started IVF. For many of us, the road to this moment has been years long. Years of trying that were filled with hope, disappointment, decisions, grief, courage, and persistence. You have been working toward this moment far longer than any one procedure. So take a moment to acknowledge that. Feel whatever it is you are feeling: relief, anxiety, numbness, hope, or all of it all at once.
You will likely hear a lot of advice about what to do or not do the day of your transfer. Some of it will come from your doctor (that is the guidance you should follow!). But a lot will also come from the internet, forums, friends, and strangers who mean well. And the truth is, even doctors don’t always agree. One doctor might recommend bedrest. Another might tell you to go for a walk. Some people swear by eating french fries after the transfer. Others say to avoid salt and grease. There is endless discourse around pineapple, warm socks, acupuncture, sleeping positions, and more. It can feel like a lot.
But the proven fact is that the medicine and the science behind this procedure are powerful. Do what feels right for your body and your mind. I promise you that eating pineapple core is not going to make or break this, but if a little superstition helps put your mind at ease, go for it!
Positive thoughts are not necessary for a positive outcome. If you feel nothing but fear, or anger you have to do this for a chance, that is okay too. The fact that you are here at all means there must be some small part of you that still carries hope. Hold onto that piece of hope, however small it may feel.
And let yourself smile. Truly! There is actually research suggesting that laughter after embryo transfer is associated with increased pregnancy rates. So watch a funny movie. Call the friend who makes you laugh. Let yourself experience moments of lightness in a process that can feel so heavy.
And a piece of hard truth: This may work, and I truly hope that it does, but often it doesn’t. Not the first time. Not the second. Sometimes not even after multiple tries. If that happens, it does not mean you did anything wrong. It does not mean you failed. And it does not mean you aren’t meant to be a parent. IVF is an incredible scientific advancement, but it is still an imperfect science. And the unfairness of that reality is something many of us have had to face. I say this not to scare you, but because I don’t want you to feel blindsided if things don’t unfold the way you hope.
But here is something else that is also true: When the transfer is done, you are pregnant until proven otherwise. In this moment, on this day, there is an embryo safely inside of you. You are carrying it here with tremendous amount of courage and effort. And for today, that is enough.
No matter what happens next, your worth is not measured by an outcome. The courage it took to get here is already extraordinary. You have worked so freaking hard. No matter what happens in the next two weeks, I am so proud of you.
Sincerely,
Meg
@For_the_Barreness