The Rollercoaster of IVF, Remote Living, and the Road to Parenthood

When Plans Go Sideways: IVF, Remote Life & Learning the Hard Way

Life has been anything but predictable lately. One minute I’m sticking to a carefully planned schedule, and the next, I’m staring down a week that’s been completely thrown off course—thanks to a delayed blood test, a dose of the wrong medication, and a body that just didn’t quite respond the way we hoped.

This week was supposed to be a big one. Scan day was marked on the calendar, and we were getting ready for egg collection. But a phone callsthe day before changed everything. My blood results from last week’s blood test had finally turned up—six days late. That delay cost us valuable time. If we’d had the results sooner, we could’ve adjusted my medication. Maybe it would’ve made a difference. Maybe this round would have gone ahead. But instead, I was left reeling, knowing deep down that we weren’t going to get to egg collection this time.

It hit hard. The emotions came in waves—disappointment, sadness, frustration. I couldn’t quite accept that this round was already over before it really began. I felt defeated, but also… not ready to give up. I went into scan day knowing what they’d tell me but still clinging to that tiny thread of hope. The results confirmed what my heart already knew: I had a few follicles, but not enough to justify pushing forward. Not this time.

And as heartbreaking as that is—after all the needles, side effects, emotional strain—it also gave us answers. I need more medication. Simple as that. My body needs a stronger push to produce the number of follicles we’re aiming for. And while, yes, we could have gone ahead and attempted egg collection with what we have, deep down I knew it wasn’t right. I want to give us the best possible odds. This is our chance, and we need to do what feels right for us. No regrets.

So, we’re closing the door on this round. It stings, but we’re already looking toward the next. We’ll adjust, regroup, and get back on track. We’ve learned—first and foremost—that getting bloods done in remotely is non-negotiable. That delay cost us this cycle, but it won’t happen again. Next time, results will be on our doctor’s desk within 24 hours, giving us a real chance to make timely adjustments.

Living remotely has always been something I love—something I wouldn’t trade for anything. But when it comes to IVF, it adds a whole new layer of complexity. Every appointment takes planning. Every test means a drive or a flight. And when the rivers are up or the weather turns, even the best-laid plans can fall apart. It’s not easy. But it’s our life, and we’re learning to navigate it—day by day.

Physically, this process has been tough. The exhaustion is deep, and the nausea can be relentless. Some days, I feel like I’m running on fumes. Others, I’m just hoping to make it through without falling apart. Emotionally, it’s just as draining. This journey has pushed me in ways I never expected. But it’s also shown me just how strong I can be. I can give myself injections. I can handle the travel, the isolation, the planning, and the setbacks. I can keep going, even when it feels like everything is against me.

This isn’t a failure. It’s a First Attempt In Learning. We’ve learned so much already—and we’ll carry that into the next round with hope and determination.

Thanks for sticking by me as I ride this rollercoaster. I’ll keep sharing, honestly and openly, because I know there are others out there feeling the same things—wondering if it’s okay to be hopeful and heartbroken all at once. It is. And you’re not alone.

Until next time—one foot in front of the other.