The IVF clinic called and said, “We made a mistake”

IVFFertility

16 Aug

Written By Bella Archer

The IVF clinic called, “We made a mistake.”

Are not the words you want to hear when 14 weeks pregnant.

A mistake?!

When I saw the IVF clinic name flash across my mobile screen, I was confused. They had discharged me a few weeks ago, having achieved the ultimate goal of getting me pregnant. I was handed back to my GP and referred to the high-risk clinic at the local hospital.

Why would the IVF clinic call me now?

It was a doctor I’ve spoken to once before, after hours, when I had spotting early in the pregnancy. He is one of the partners at the clinic.

Your doctor is on holiday, and I’m calling to let you know the results of the NIPT.

The thing is, I’ve been through this before, and I know the ultrasound clinic calls with these results, so I knew something was awry.

The good news is that the NIPT results came back and you’re having a perfectly normal, healthy baby.

He then talked in circles for a while. Why is he really calling?

We made a mistake, and the clinic has been in panic mode all morning.

My heart sank. I held my breath. That can’t be good.

I believe we told you that you’re having a boy. Well, the sonographer identified something different.

The ultrasound should have been my first clue

And that’s when I had a flashback to the day of the structural ultrasound. Lark woke up with pink eye, and I had to rush to figure out care, given that daycare strictly forbids kids with pink, oozing eyeballs. After a particularly difficult handover to her grandma, a drive across the city, and a notoriously busy multi-level car park, I made it to the appointment 15 mins late.

The receptionist's glare told me she hadn't yet enjoyed the joys of parenthood and wasn’t feeling particularly charitable about its impact on her perfectly predictable child-free schedule, and I was led into a rushed appointment where the sonographer raced to make up time. Of course I felt bad about it.

The sonographer asked if I wanted to know the baby's gender, and I proudly declared I already knew. A boy! How amazing is modern medicine that you can tell from a 5-day-old embryo with PGT-A testing? She didn’t seem all that amazed at the time, keeping a straight face as she poked the ultrasound wand into my belly.

I figured, I’m late, and she’s probably heard it all before. Didn’t think anything more of it at the time.

The sonographer said she couldn’t take all the images needed and would try again later. She just needed to pop next door and chat to the genetic counsellor and see if they were ready for my blood test.

Again, a tad odd, but I figured being inconveniently late had thrown everyone off schedule. I was still feeling bad about it and didn't give the odd behaviour a second thought.

The genetic counsellor had a well-rehearsed speech and was generally enthusiastic. More so when she suggested we just throw in the gender test anyway; why not really?

If I’m paying $500 for the test, I figured I might as well get the full value.

After the NIPT, a second sonographer, who I now suspect was there to give a second opinion, captured the final few snaps of our little man and sent me on my merry way. I found it odd that they didn’t print out the baby’s images like they usually do, but again, I guess late patients don’t get that privilege.

PGT-A said boy. NIPT said girl.

Fast forward to the present day, phone pressed against my ear. What mistake?!

I believe we told you that you’re having a boy.
The sonographer saw that you’re having a girl, and the NIPT gender test has confirmed it.
I later learned they'd checked the result three times. No Y chromosomes. Definitely a girl.
We’ve been in panic mode all morning trying to figure out what happened.

So how did the IVF clinic make the mistake?

I was in shock. And all I could do was laugh.
A stilted laugh, one powered by disbelief, as the doctor continued to talk – mostly because my reaction was out of the ordinary, and I’m sure he was concerned for my well-being.

Our admin assistant is literally lying on the floor, turning herself inside out. She feels so awful. It was only a clerical error.
This time we put in embryo 42. When she filled out the request form, she wrote embryo 44 – the one we put back in last time.
There are certainly a lot worse IVF mistakes out there.

So the clinic hadn't transferred the wrong embryo. They had recorded the wrong embryo number on the PGT-A biological sex request form.

The embryo I had transferred in January was a little boy. The one transferred in May was a little girl. Unlike in America, the sex of PGT-A-tested embryos isn't generally disclosed to patients in Australia before transfer. They don't want you gender shopping.

I wanted a baby. And I’m having a baby. I don’t care whether the baby is a boy or a girl. Tell the admin assistant there are no hard feelings.

I had bonded with the little boy.
A little boy who I’d come to associate with indigo blue electric sparkles.

But now I know I’m having another little girl. And honestly, I’m so excited to meet her. And I’m sure she’ll look great in the little boy's onesie I’ve already bought her on our first mother-son date to the movies.