Eggcellent Mom Chronicles

It’s a double-blog week, so thank you for sticking around to read! It always surprises me how many of you not only follow along but also reach out. Your support means the world and lifts me up on this wild journey.

In the past 10 months, I have learned more about female anatomy and the human body than I ever thought possible. I can still remember my first health class in 5th grade back in 1997—our teacher dimmed the lights, rolled in the TV, and we all gathered around, waiting intently (and maybe snickering a little) as we learned about male and female anatomy.

Now, decades later, I feel like I’m back in class—only this time, the lessons are personal. This journey is not for the weary. It has forced me into eye-opening and heart-opening moments, and I want to acknowledge all the families walking this same path.

It’s only been 10 months, yet I’m exhausted, frequently surprised, and still, undeniably determined.

Today’s appointment with my doctor felt like another learning session, but this time, I left feeling settled. Finally, I understand the reasons behind my failed transfers. It never quite made sense to think that I had fertility issues—after all, I simply needed sperm to pursue single motherhood. But now, there’s a definitive answer: I have infertility, and the culprit is the BCL6 protein marker.

What does the BCL6 marker mean? BCL6 can make it difficult to get pregnant and stay pregnant, leading to implantation failure, early pregnancy loss, and poor IVF outcomes. It’s also linked to an increased cancer risk. A BCL6 score above 1.4 is considered significant and can indicate poor reproductive outcomes. My score? 2.6

I weighed my options with my doctor, and thanks to my mom, who also joined virtually, I feel confident in my decision. She was there to listen, help me find words when emotions took over, and ask the hardest follow-up question:

“If Renee were your daughter, what would you recommend?”

Here’s my answer, and I stand by it with confidence:

I am choosing to do another round of IVF—fertilizing my eggs to create as many embryos as possible. Then, I will undergo laparoscopic surgery to remove potential blockages in my fallopian tubes and any silent endometriosis tissue. After that, I will allow time to heal before planning for a frozen embryo transfer.

I have decided not to pursue 90 days of hormone therapy injections. The potential downsides outweigh the benefits, and if I experienced another implantation failure, I’d likely have to repeat the process. Additionally, this treatment does not reduce cancer risk.

Oddly enough, I feel settled with this plan. Now, it’s just a matter of waiting for the right timing in my cycle.

I wish I didn’t have to end every post with this, but it’s my reality. This process is financially draining, and the hard truth is that my ovaries are too old to wait for insurance mandates to catch up. I am beyond grateful for those who have supported me in any way—emotionally, physically, and financially. With more IVF treatments ahead and expenses piling up beyond what insurance covers, your contributions to my GoFundMe help make this journey possible.