Jennie & Matt

Matt and I had a beautiful dating and married life. We tried new restaurants in our hometown of DC, hosted friends on our stoop in Adams Morgan, played softball on the Ellipse, traveled here and abroad, and rooted for our Nats.  

Finding fertility care at SGF with Dr. Widra

At 30, we were more than ready to settle down and start the family we always wanted to build together. But it didn’t come easily for us — month after month, then over a year. My OB/GYN recommended SGF and Dr. Eric Widra, specifically. I made the call and felt sweet relief from the very first appointment when he told us how confident he was that he’d help us make a baby. 

Having the right plan and the right team

We had a plan and a team, and it worked so much better and faster than I now appreciate is the norm. Our first son, Jackson, was born in March 2016 following our very first intrauterine insemination (IUI). He was, and still is, our golden child. Now a bright, funny, always laughing and universally adored first grader at our neighborhood elementary school.  

We had no idea how lucky our experience was, within the fertility space, until we tried for a sibling. We waited over a year later to start trying again — life was beautiful as three and we didn’t want to risk complications after attending our friends’ destination wedding during Zika — and again, a year came and went.  

Experiencing heartbreak

This time, it took four IUIs until we were pregnant again. And, eight weeks later, the heartbeat was gone. There are no words to describe the experience, so I’ll instead share that we left K Street and I sobbed through a matinee of “A Star is Born.” Four years later, I still can’t make it through the first few notes of “Shallow.”

The miracle of science at SGF

It was then we experienced the full scientific miracle that is SGF. Starting in vitro fertilization (IVF), we were so encouraged by the opportunity to genetically test our embryos and hopefully prevent another heartbreak, but we didn’t get that far after our first round.  

Dr. Widra remained confident and adjusted my medication for a far more successful round two. Our first-try, AA-grade embryo turned out to be Teddy, our 10-lb sweetheart born in April 2020. I’m still dealing with the trauma of welcoming him, between the start of the pandemic and complications at delivery, but Teddy has uplifted and completed our family. He’s mama’s baby, daddy’s his hero, and he and his “buh buh” (brother) are co-conspirators who bring us more joy than we knew possible. 

Donating embryos to research

It took over two years after Teddy’s birth to make the difficult decision to donate our remaining embryos to research. We’d worked so hard for them! And they were … us! But, we knew in our hearts that we were forever a family of four. 

There’s not a roadmap for making this most sacred donation, but at the advice of the SGF embryology team and with some relatively quick Google research, we found that the Stanford University School of Medicine was accepting embryos from a few states, including Maryland. We had to jump through an additional legal hoop, when they discovered we live in DC while our embryos resided in Maryland, but our donation was ultimately accepted. I hope it helps others experience the miracles we have.

Advice for fellow infertility warriors

My best two pieces of advice from our journey, which I’ve found myself imparting to younger friends and colleagues ready to start their families, are: 

1. Don’t wait to get help. Trying and failing to get pregnant is deeply isolating. And it doesn’t get physically or emotionally easier with time. Make the call to get a plan and a team behind you. It’ll be the most timesaving and life-changing decision you make. 

2. Be open about your journey. Even those closest to you won’t fully understand – they can’t unless they’ve been there! – but they’ll do their best to support you and it’s so lonely without them. This rule applies to work too; there are too many appointments and disappointments to pretend like everything’s normal. Infertility is an invisible disability worthy of support and accommodation.