A Family Story: The Bairds
Reflecting on growing and loving family with the Bairds
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*Content warning: This post discusses IVF treatments in detail*
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Prologue: Inviting and encouraging personal stories from my clients to accompany my storytelling photoshoots is important to me. I want everyone to know - and specifically my photo clients - that they always have a safe and compassionate space to share their experiences - the good, the bad, the boring, the joy, the grim, the ugly, the miraculous. Photos tell us stories, but I'm a strong believer that written stories are to pictures as salt is to bread - one brings out the flavor in the other.
Back in September 2023, I did a family photoshoot for the Bairds. I met Erin and Michael and their two
sons Jack and Austin at a neighborhood event a few weeks before that. When I started the shoot, I learned that the couple was pregnant with a baby girl. I figured they were a family touched by fertility who had the means to have a big family. I assumed they got pregnant easily and had planned on having three children and there they were - doing great and loving each other and their high energy boys. But this was just what it looked like on the surface. My ignorance has a way of astounding me every time. The strife and pain these parents, especially Erin, endured to create this little family are extreme. After a follow-up newborn shoot that summer with their baby girl Evelyn, I asked Erin to share her intense intricate and intuition-led IVF story. I can tell you with confidence I will never look at a family, any family, the same way.
Erin took time to write her essay. I didn't find this odd at all since 1) she wasn't obligated to write it and has three children and a full time career to manage and 2) if she wrote it at all, I figured it would be difficult to put into words.
She revealed in an email to me, along with the following essay, that it was hard to go back and relive every detail because there was so much hurt and pain in many of the steps along the way. First reading this, I felt bad that I had asked her to relive painful memories. But I understood she could have brushed off my request and I would not have pushed it. She decided to write an eloquent essay, which is what follows here.
During the years-long IVF process she stated "I lived every day of those years focused on the next step in the process and how I was going to accomplish our goal of expanding our family." She also said that to write the essay that she "needed to really sit and document what we went through and feel all of that again and to document as much of it as she could "before details start to fade."
So, here is Erin's story in her own words:
Michael and I got married in 2011 and decided to wait a couple of years before trying to get pregnant. In 2013, after one last vacation in July, we decided to try for a baby. I was pregnant two months later in September 2013. I had such a wonderfully easy pregnancy resulting in the birth of our first born son Jack in June 2014.
Erin and Michael and their big bernedoodle, 2023
We were over the moon thrilled to have this amazing, beautiful baby boy in our lives. We loved every second of being parents to Jack. He was and old-soul, sweet and calm but also so wickedly funny and smart. We definitely knew we wanted more children but wanted to enjoy Jack’s infant years so we really didn’t start thinking about trying for a second baby until the winter of 2016, a little before Jack’s second birthday.
Jack, age 10, swinging on the backyard swing set
After several months of casually trying to get pregnant, we realized this time might be harder than the last. It would be a few years before we came to the realization that getting pregnant with Jack was extremely lucky, a fluke really, and not easy like we had initially thought. After really trying to get pregnant for several more months, I went to my doctor to get her thoughts on next steps. I realize now, I should have gone sooner. While I felt young, and still do, I was 38 years old and already at a disadvantage due to my age. She prescribed Clomid, a medicine that works to stimulate an increase in hormones needed for ovulation, in hopes that may help. I naively thought I would get pregnant that month and secretly wished for twins, a slight increased chance with fertility drugs like Clomid.
Little did I know this would be the beginning of our long journey with secondary infertility.
When I wasn’t pregnant after that first month, my doctor ordered bloodwork, primarily testing my FSH (Follicle-Stimulating Hormone) level. This test is often used to help diagnose infertility due to low ovarian reserve. Within a couple of days, I received a call from my doctor saying that my FSH level was higher than normal and that I should reach out to a fertility clinic for further evaluation and potential treatment options. We immediately made an appointment with a recommended fertility clinic and went through a series of appointments, tests and consultations.
After evaluating all of our test results, I was given a diagnosis of diminished ovarian reserve. We were told that it wasn’t impossible to get pregnant with my own eggs, but it would be challenging, and IVF would be our best hope.
This was also the first time the words “donor eggs” were used. There was chance that even with IVF, my body would not respond as needed to produce the number of eggs needed for a successful outcome. We understood the challenges that laid ahead but decided to move forward with an aggressive IVF treatment plan in hopes of getting at least a few eggs retrieved. Despite being ready to dive into IVF, I first needed a procedure called a hysteroscopy done. During our pre-cycle testing, the doctors found an endometrial polyp in my uterus. Irregular tissue, polyps and fibroids can impact embryo implantation, so it needed to be removed before we moved forward. We would face this news multiple times along the way – apparently my uterus loves to grow polyps.
Our first IVF cycle began in the fall of 2017, right before Thanksgiving. I went to the pharmacy and picked up a huge box of drugs, needles, syringes and alcohol wipes and also got my first glimpse at what life would like for the immediate future. As someone that is type A and loves being organized, I promptly pulled out some plastic bins and began organizing all my supplies and meds the second I got home! I cleaned out a corner shelf in the kitchen near that fridge, since some meds needed to be refrigerated, and readied myself for those first shots.
Once again, I naively thought this would be the answer – I would almost certainly be pregnant within a few months.
Within a week or so, we began our first round of IVF. If all went well, we would likely have our egg retrieval done the Sunday after Thanksgiving. I began my protocol of shots, often 2 in the morning and 3 in the evening, and my regular bloodwork and ultrasound monitoring appointments which increase in frequency the closer I got to retrieval day.
Evelyn, surrounded by the IVF needles her mama used to become pregnant
I was soon going to the clinic almost daily, if not daily. The nurse would call after each appointment with instructions based on the findings. Sometimes I would stay and course and other times there may be an increase in dosing. After one monitoring appointment, the day before Thanksgiving, I got the devastating news that my cycle was being cancelled because my body was not responding appropriately. I was in my parents' kitchen helping my mom prepare for Thanksgiving – chopping vegetables for her stuffing or rolling out pie crusts for pumpkin pie – when I got the call from my nurse.
I was heartbroken, the first of many time during our journey. It was the first time I realized this process likely wasn’t going to go the way we had envisioned or initially hoped it would.
After a debrief with our doctor, we regrouped and geared up for our next IVF cycle, this time making some tweaks and adding new drugs. This became a recurrent theme over the next several months.
It was also during all these monitoring appointments that one particular question kept coming up, “Have you ever been diagnosed with endometriosis”? I hadn’t and frankly didn’t know where the question was coming from. The lack of follow up on this vague line of questioning became a great source of frustration later on.
We ended up doing 5 rounds of IVF with none resulting in an egg retrieval. One of our final rounds was converted to an IUI, which didn’t result in a pregnancy. It was in subsequent consults that I was told that I likely had severe endometriosis that had resulted in diminished ovarian reserve and no further IUI or IVF cycles would improve my chances of conceiving.
It was at this point, I was finally told that at each monitoring appointment they noted possible endometriomas on each of my ovaries, a clear indicator of endometriosis. The doctors said that these needed to be removed to not only confirm that there were in fact endometriomas and that I had endometriosis, but that there was nothing more serious going on. I quickly connected with one of the best gynecologic surgeons who ultimately performed laparoscopic surgery to treat my endometriosis. Besides a large endometrioma on each ovary, my fallopian tubes were wrapped behind my uterus to the point that my ovaries were touching, my colon was twisted and kinked and had become completely plastered to the back of my uterus and cervix. Additionally, endometriosis was affecting other areas of my body including my bladder, all resulting in a diagnosis of severe (stage IV) endometriosis as well as adenomyosis.
While we were hopeful that the surgery would clear the way for further treatment, subsequent bloodwork showed my FSH levels had risen significantly. I was told that further IVF cycles would not be of benefit – it would not provide any greater chance of pregnancy than trying naturally which was already very small. It was at this point we were told our best chance at expanding our family was to consider using donor eggs. This wasn’t new news, but it still stung.
My mind raced with so many thoughts and fears: Could I love a baby that wasn’t genetically related to me as much as I loved my genetically related son? Would a baby resent me for not being genetically related? How would our families react? The list went on and on.
Michael was supportive and listened as I expressed my fears and concerns but was reassured that everything would work out the way it was supposed to.
While Michael and I knew in our hearts we wanted to expand our family and had decided early on we would do whatever it took to do that, we still wanted to make sure we left no stone unturned. So for that reason, along with several others, we decided it was time to change doctors and fertility clinics. A family member had recommended a doctor at another clinic and we were eager to hear his thoughts on our situation. We met with our new doctor in January 2019 and he was agreeable to doing another round of IVF, this time using lower doses of the medicines which seemed to work better in those with diminished ovarian reserve. However, after another round of bloodwork at the new clinic, we were told my ovarian reserve was extremely low. The surgery to remove the endometriomas had likely caused further diminished my ovarian reserve and I was essentially in menopause. The best hope we had to expand our family was to move forward with donor eggs.
I was finally clear that this was our best chance at completing our family and we dove head first into that process. We learned all we could about the clinic’s guarantee programs, the selection process, the steps and timeline involved and of course the costs. We have great health insurance that includes robust fertility coverage – to this point I had paid almost nothing for my medicines, consults, bloodwork, ultrasounds, etc – but once you move on to using a donor, insurance covers nothing. Therefore, we had to secure a loan to cover the costs of the donor IVF cycles.
Once the loan was in place, we had to be cleared by a therapist before we could proceed, a requirement of our clinic. The therapist was there to make sure we understood what we were embarking on and determine if we appeared to be mentally and emotionally ready.
What at first felt like a box that needed to be checked, [the therapy sessions] ended up being incredibly helpful. It was an opportunity for Michael and me to have an open and constructive dialogue about the importance of being open with our children, from a very early age, about their backgrounds.
The therapist also provided suggestions on various books and other resources we could use as an aide in those future conversations. I think we both walked out of that session not only feeling more prepared, but more resolved in our decision to move forward with donor conception. Within days we began the process of picking a donor. The process was just as difficult as I imagined it would be.
Every time I looked at the list of donors, I didn’t see anyone I would want to select. Michael would send me donor profiles and I would nix them for various reasons without saying out loud what the real issue was – they were not me.
After several weeks of looking at donors, I finally found someone that I felt was as close to me as I could find. We looked similar, had similar backgrounds, we enjoyed similar activities and music. To top it off, she grew up going to the skeet range and shooting skeet with her father, something I did throughout my childhood with my dad. We moved forward with selecting her and a sense of relief and excitement came over me – we were finally moving forward!
The donor was a 1 to 3 which meant we would be splitting the eggs retrieved with two other couples. This initially concerned us, but we were reassured when we learned that she had a large number of eggs retrieved in her previous cycle. In fact, when we got the call after her retrieval, we were shocked to learn that we alone got 17 eggs. With that call, our hopes for more than one sibling for Jack seemed inevitable. However, 5 days later we got the shocking news that out of 17 eggs retrieved, we ended up with only one embryo. We were sad that we didn’t end up with more embryos but also excited because we knew we still had a chance this transfer would result in a baby. We transferred that embryo on August 20th, 2019 and found out two weeks later that it did not take.
With no embryos remaining, we had to start the process completely over again. Luckily, we had qualified for our clinic’s guaranteed program, which for a certain amount of money guaranteed us a live birth, not just embryos like other clinics, or we would receive our money back so we could pursue other alternatives. We inquired about trying again with the same donor but were advised not to select her again – my doctor's opinion was that something was amiss given the low embryo to egg ratio.
Beginning the search for another donor was almost harder this time than our initial selection. I now found myself trying to “replace” two people: myself and my first donor who I had fallen in love with.
Adding to the stress of finding the “perfect” donor, I now added a new criterion to our selection process: I wanted to only look at donors that had donated before and I wanted to know specific cycle outcomes. Not only did I want to know the number of eggs retrieved, I wanted to know the number of embryos that were created from each cycle. I feel bad for how much I bothered our donor database coordinator, but she was amazing, kind, patient and supportive of my need for information and statistics. Michael was equally as patient with me and supported my obsession with cycle outcomes.
By mid-October 2019, we selected our next donor and the cycle proved to be very successful. We ended up with 13 eggs retrieved and ultimately 6 perfectly graded embryos. Our transfer was delayed a bit due to needing another hysteroscopy to remove another endometrial polyp. But we began our cycle in March 2020, days before the world shut down as a result of the COVID-19 Pandemic. However, we were some of the lucky ones. Since we were mid-cycle, we had already started meds for our transfer, when everything shut down, we were allowed to continue our cycle. We transferred our second embryo on April 10th 2020 hoping this would be the answer to our prayers. Unfortunately, we found out 10 days later that I was once again – not pregnant.
In our follow-up WTF appointment with our doctor, he felt we should have another hysteroscopy and D&C to ensure any small irregularities in my uterus were removed. While we were worried it could take a while for the clinic to get government clearance to begin non-emergent procedures again, approval came much quicker than anyone anticipated, and I was scheduled for May 13th 2020. The procedure was a success, and everything looked good for our next transfer. The hardest part of the failed transfers for us was that we thought donor eggs were the answer – once we proceeded with donor eggs, any embryo would surely take.
It really never crossed our minds that a transfer would fail. That was incredibly hard to accept.
Our third embryo transfer was scheduled for June 12th, and we were cautiously optimistic that we would finally have the outcome we were wishing for. Sure enough, on June 25th, our first beta blood test came at 948 indicating a strong positive pregnancy test. We were thrilled, but of course hesitant to celebrate since we knew anything could happen over the next several weeks. However, after a subsequent beta test and two ultrasounds in July, we finally allowed ourselves to begin to get excited. By the beginning of August, we graduated to our OB’s care and despite some bumps along the way, we welcomed Austin almost 4 weeks early on February 5th 2021.
The second I held him in my arms, all the fears I had around donor conception fell away. As this beautiful baby boy snuggled in the crook of my arm, stared into my eyes and calmed at the sound of my voice, there was no doubt he was my son, and I was his mom.
Austin swinging on the swing set he shares with his brother, Jack.
When we decided to expand our family again, we once again reached out to our fertility clinic to begin another embryo transfer cycle. And once again, we experienced two more losses. Two failed embryo transfer cycles without any real explanation.
Despite having two wonderful children at home, the losses weren’t any less devastating. The trauma of infertility was still present and the fear, sadness, hurt and anger after each failed transfer was no less real.
For our next transfer, our doctor changed our protocol once again, adding more medicines and supplements in hopes of the third transfer would work.
After another hysteroscopy for good measure, we transferred our last embryo on December 14th 2022 and found out the day after Christmas that it took. Our beta blood test number was much lower this time, but at 152 it was still an undeniable positive result. However, since our beta was slow to rise, we went back a few times for additional bloodwork to ensure things were progressing. Given this, we were a bit more tempered in our excitement until January 10th at our first ultrasound appointment. It was there that we saw a heartbeat and finally allowed ourselves to get excited about what was to come. It was therefore a shock when the very next evening I experienced a significant bleed, and we spent the rest of that night fearing the worst. Our clinic was great and got us in the next day for another ultrasound to confirm what I thought would be a miscarriage.
To our surprise, we instantly saw a strong heartbeat and relief washed over us.
We remained cautiously optimistic for the next month or so, but finally began to get more and more excited with each passing week and each subsequent doctors' appointment.
Evelyn came into the world on August 30th 2023 and had our hearts from the second she locked eyes with us.
I learned many things through our journey with infertility, mainly that I am much stronger than I ever imagined I could be. I also learned to have more compassion and give people more grace as you never really know what people are dealing with behind closed doors.
I was often giving myself shots in public bathrooms or in my car. I often spent early mornings at the fertility clinic before heading to work where I would receive not great news and have to carry on as if nothing had happened.
I have received bad news about a cycle or transfer and had to immediately walk into a meeting with executives and act like nothing was wrong, all the while wanting to curl up in a ball and cry. I have also learned that you can’t judge other people's pain or compare grief or trauma.
No one’s experience is more or less painful than yours and no one’s grief or pain is more or less justified. Each and everyone one of us is entitled to feel exactly how we feel.
I have been told that my pain at not being able to have another baby should be less than the pain of someone that hasn’t been able to conceive a baby at all. That I should just be happy that I have one child. That’s the thing about secondary infertility, many people feel it is a less painful or less devastating experience because you already have one child. But the fact is, no one should ever question someone’s feelings around how they see their family looking.
No one should ever have to feel bad for wanting more children or to build the family they dream about.
As National Infertility Awareness Week came to a close, I couldn’t help but look back on the last 7 years and feel immense gratitude:
Gratitude for the family and friends that were so supportive and helpful in our journey.
Gratitude for the science that allowed us to bring Austin and Evelyn into our family.
Gratitude to the selfless donors that make parenthood possible for so many.
Gratitude to the doctors and nurses that never stopped looking for ways to help us complete our family.
Finally, gratitude that we had the resources to be able to embark on this journey and have the family we always envisioned.
Fertility treatments can be extremely expensive and therefore often out of reach for so many. Its wrong that money can be a deciding factor in whether you become a parent or not but often times people have to give up on their dream because they simply can’t afford to go on.
In the end, our journey to Austin lasted 4 ½ years before we got pregnant, and it took us a little over a year to get pregnant with Evelyn. We did 6 embryo transfer in total, 3 to get to Austin and 3 to get to Evelyn.
In the process, I had 8 hysteroscopies and 1 laparoscopic surgery for Endometriosis and Adenomyosis. I gave myself (Michael helped!) hundreds of shots and took numerous medicines and supplements over the years. I also regularly did acupuncture throughout our journey including increased treatment sessions leading up to and after embryo transfers.
I had too many blood tests and ultrasounds to count and we spent tens of thousands of dollars on treatments. Despite all the challenges along the way, I can say without a doubt, it was the best thing we ever did, and we would do it all a thousand times over again to have Austin and Evelyn in our lives.
We are so incredibly lucky that our dreams came true."
My reply:
Erin,
I am so moved by your essay - your story - and your vulnerability in writing and sharing this piece of writing. I'm feeling so many emotions simply reading it that I can't imagine all the feelings - emotional and physical - you went through in your IVF experience. I'm needing to take breaks, highlight passages, and revel in what I'm learning from as you share.
It's taken me a while to read this because I wanted to find a moment where I could give it my full attention. I hope you know how meaningful this is to me that you shared what you endured with me. I am especially moved by particular passages, which I will bring special attention to in the blog piece. I am going to put it all together and it will be a "thing" that you and I created! If people read it and respond to it the way I hope, it could be a healing testimony and one that validates others' experiences and makes women feel less alone. This part in particular just made me need to take a break to reflect and let myself feel fully the import of your words:
No one’s experience is more or less painful than yours and no one’s grief or pain is more or less justified. Each and everyone one of us is entitled to feel exactly how we feel. I have been told that my pain at not being able to have another baby should be less than the pain of someone that hasn’t been able to conceive a baby at all. That I should just be happy that I have one child. That’s the thing about secondary infertility, many people feel it is a less painful or less devastating experience because you already have one child. But the fact is, no one should ever question someone’s feelings around how they see their family looking. No one should ever have to feel bad for wanting more children or to build the family they dream about.
I agree so much with this. It is so easy to judge and to compare oneself to others. And we are all better than that. Choosing to be thoughtful and compassionate takes courage. You are overflowing with it. I'm going to get back to you with my photo essay with your words. I am planning to put in photos along with your writing - the family photos of you (when you were expecting baby Eveyln) and then Evelyn's newborn photos.
Again, I am so touched that you shared this with me. You're such a clear and conscientious writer, too. I'm just all-around wowed by you, your family, and how strong your vision was (and is) for the family you and Michael wanted together. Ok, I'll stop gushing now....! Thank you, thank you!
-Mollye
Austin's precious little shoes.
The Baird's precious Bengal cat atop a newborn gift with the words "Adventure Awaits."
Notes on the IVF needle photos: To document the amount of treatments, her parents asked me to replicate a similar shot her brother had of himself surrounded by IVF needles. Evelyn was carefully and safely placed briefly on the floor of her nursery for the short portion of her newborn shoot with the IVF needles.
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Above: Baby Evelyn surrounded by IVF needles