Made With Intention

This has been one of the hardest questions for me to answer.

Of the two embryos that reached the blastocyst stage, only one came back euploid, meaning chromosomally healthy.

The two-week wait for the PGT-A results felt like the longest two weeks of this entire process. While I waited, I found myself wanting to make impulsive decisions just to create some sense of certainty. Anything to quiet the discomfort of not knowing.

I started making plans based on hypothetical outcomes.

If none of the embryos were healthy, I would move forward with another egg retrieval and fertilization cycle.

If I had one healthy embryo, I would go ahead with an embryo transfer. I wouldn’t put my body through more hormones just to have more options.

Simple enough.

Or so I thought.

Then another question came up.

How many embryos do I actually need to feel safe? Is one enough?

And an even harder one.

How many children do I really want?

I found that impossible to answer.

Two years ago, I could not have predicted where I would be today. How could I possibly know what I would want two or three years from now? The question felt arbitrary, yet the pressure to answer it now was very real.

When I discussed it with my doctor, he reminded me that because I’m turning 38 this year, undergoing another egg retrieval several years from now would likely be more difficult if I hoped to have another child. My body would probably require more IVF cycles to achieve what it can today.

Part of me wondered whether one child would be enough. Financially, raising one child on a single income seemed more realistic. Maybe I should simply transfer this embryo and trust the process.

What if the transfer didn’t work? What if I miscarried?

Would I have the emotional capacity to start over? Would I want to? Would my body? Would I regret not creating more embryos while I still had the opportunity?

None of those questions had clear answers, and no one could answer them for me with certainty.

A dear spiritual friend, Dhammadipa, once told me: 

“The opposite of control is not surrender. It is responsiveness.”

I don’t need to know every answer today. I don’t need to predict every future version of myself.

I simply need to trust that when new information arrives, I will respond wisely. That is where my confidence comes from. From self-trust.

Ultimately, I decided to undergo another IVF cycle now.

For me, having additional embryos, should this first transfer not succeed, gives me a greater sense of security. It also gives me options for the future should I want more children. I feel more prepared making these decisions while my body can handle it.

This journey ebbs and flows at every stage. Every appointment, every phone call, every result asks you to recommit. Sometimes you recommit to solo motherhood. Other times, you recommit to your Self, realizing you are not quite ready for the next step yet.

Both are valid.

Growing up, changing my mind was not encouraged. It was often seen as a lack of commitment.

Now I see it differently. I am more committed to staying authentic to myself than appearing like I have it all figured out.

This means allowing new information to shape my decisions. It means staying responsive instead of rigid. It means choosing the path that feels most aligned with who I am today, while trusting the version of me who will make tomorrow’s decisions when tomorrow arrives.