Our Journey to Melanie
The Diagnosis That Changed Everything
For over three years, my husband and I tried to conceive naturally. Month after month, we held onto hope—only to be met with silence. When I was finally diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS), it brought some clarity, but also deep frustration. We weren’t just dealing with bad timing—we were facing a real, medical barrier to becoming parents.
I started to lose faith that we could ever do this on our own. We explored every option we could. I looked into treatment at RMIA, but their BMI requirements felt impossible. It wasn’t just a physical hurdle—it took a toll on my spirit. I wanted to believe we’d get there, but it felt like every door was closing before we could step through.
“Hope is powerful. And for the first time in a long time, I had some again.”
Chasing Possibility at Mayo Clinic
Just as I was about to give up, I discovered that Mayo Clinic offered IVF—and their requirements felt much more attainable. That discovery reignited something in me. I set a goal and began working to lose the weight needed to qualify. Even though Mayo was a 1.5-hour drive from home, I didn’t care. Hope is powerful. And for the first time in a long time, I had some again.
Once I qualified, we officially began the IVF journey. That came with its own wave of stress. Endless appointments, expensive medications, specialty pharmacies, and daily injections—all while my husband worked opposite shifts. I was alone for many of the hard parts, but I was never truly alone. My support system kept me going when I wasn’t sure I could keep pushing forward.
“We were incredibly fortunate—but also knew how fragile that hope could be.”
Egg Retrieval and Emotional Weight
In January 2024, we did the egg retrieval. I remember waking up and hearing that they’d retrieved 14 oocytes. It felt like a win—but we knew not all of them would make it. The emotional whiplash of IVF is something I don’t think anyone fully understands unless they’ve lived it.
Of those 14, six embryos made it through and were viable. Six precious chances. We were incredibly fortunate—but also knew how fragile that hope could be. You learn quickly in this process that success isn’t guaranteed. Gratitude and grief often show up at the same time.
“That next month and a half was the longest of my life.”
The Wait, the Transfer, and More Waiting
Because of my elevated estrogen levels, we had to wait and do a frozen embryo transfer in March. That meant two more months of daily progesterone injections—this time even more painful and still done on my own. I had to find a satellite clinic for blood work and ultrasounds, all of which needed to be coordinated back to Mayo.
When the day finally came for the embryo transfer, I was able to watch on a screen as they placed the embryo into my body. It was a surreal moment—fast, clinical, and yet incredibly emotional.
That next month and a half was the longest of my life. Every single day was filled with anxiety and cautious hope. And then, the call came. Our bloodwork confirmed it—we were pregnant.
“She is everything we hoped for, and more than we thought possible.”
Meeting Our Miracle
After the transfer, we transitioned care to a local OBGYN clinic. Even then, joy was layered with nerves. Every milestone was met with both celebration and fear. But in the end, we made it.
On January 15, 2025, our daughter Melanie was born—healthy, beautiful, and more loved than words could ever capture. She is everything we hoped for, and more than we thought possible.
“This was never the journey I imagined—but it brought us to Melanie.”
Looking Ahead
We continue to store our remaining embryos with ReproTech, holding space for whatever the future may bring. This journey has changed me. It’s shown me strength I didn’t know I had, and taught me the value of holding onto hope—even when it feels far away.
This was never the journey I imagined—but it brought us to Melanie. And for that, I’ll always be grateful.
