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The American Fertility Association’s Monthly Newsletter

July 23, 2008

FEATURE WELL

Alternative Stress Management
The American Fertility Association

Dr. Joel Batzofin

Life is short, days are long, and you’re constantly running out of time. But let’s face it – the clock ticks at the same speed for you, me, even the President of the United States.

“It’s how we manage the time that’s important. Our focus is to maximize time management for our customer which is our patient,” says Dr. Joel Batzofin, who runs a reproductive medicine practice in Manhattan.

Batzofin offers his patients a holistic approach in a single setting, incorporating herbal treatments, myo-abdominal massage, meditation and Yoga, along with state-of-the-art Western medical treatments.

Batzofin says couples experiencing difficulties conceiving need treatment 50-60% of the time; treatment which is typically not covered by insurance.

“If it was free, they wouldn’t have to pay for it all, I think they’d use it a lot. I think they know they need it. Money is a thing stopping them from accessing it,” says Batzofin.

While Dr. Batzofin can’t give away free treatments, he can offer a one-stop-shop practice. In-house, he has a massage therapist, psychologist, and acupuncturist. Often, an acupuncture treatment is required right before and right after an embryo transfer.

Batzofin says, “They get their acupuncture in the adjacent suite. They come and get the embryo transfer in our suite. We then call the acupuncturist. They lie on the bed and he comes to the suite to do the post-transfer treatment. They don’t have to get up and move.”

We live in a rat race where fertility concerns only make life more stressful. You worry about your biological clock ticking away, the stress you’re getting from your spouse and family members, and your self-esteem, which has hit rock bottom. Batzofin says stress, specifically for those of you who live in places like Manhattan, and New York City is in your face all the time and unavoidable, which is why some sort of stress management or treatment is so important.

“I have done some acupuncture myself. You go in there, lie on a couch, the room gets darkened, there’s a good smell, some needles are put in, some cool music, and you just chill out. It’s a release of stress and energy. I think this is very important,” says Batzofin.

Of course a doctor can’t force a patient to partake in a stress management program. Your doctor can, however, create new ways to make the process more accessible and offer alternatives to fit your busy schedule; alternatives like a one-stop-shop.

“When people say they have no time, that’s a misnomer, because everyone has 24 hours a day. All of us have the same amount of time in any given day,” says Batzofin.

He says patients tell him, “This is so cool. I just had my acupuncture, now I am doing my ultrasound. This is so cool. They talk about that a lot.’ They don’t have to change their parking place.”

Joel Batzofin, MD, FACOG, Founder & Medical Director, Batzofin Fertility Services
Dr. Joel Batzofin, an internationally recognized expert in the field of Assisted Reproductive Technology (ART) was born in South Africa. He’s a graduate of the University of Witwatersrand Medical School and Harvard Medical School.
He’s helped bring more than 10,000 babies into the world. He uses a holistic approach with patients dealing with fertility challenges. He believes the highest chances of success exist in a warm, caring, unique environment.

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The Missing Link:
When Your Children Don’t Share Your Genes
By Kelly James-Enger

Kelly James-Enger

When my husband and I were trying to have a child—first the “old-fashioned” way, and then through fertility treatments like in vitro, we often talked about what our child would look like. I wanted our baby to inherit Erik’s distinctive hazel eyes and thick lashes while Erik said he had to have my smile. Secretly, I hoped for a brown-eyed, brown-haired little girl, a carbon copy of her mother. I’m a blend of my parents and couldn’t help imagining that our baby would be the same—an appealing mix of (hopefully) all our best qualities.

Over time, it became apparent that the chance of our having a biological child was slim and growing slimmer. After rounds of IVF that resulted in failures or miscarriages, we considered what to do next. That was when a friend approached me and offered to serve as our gestational surrogate. My R.E. couldn’t tell why I was having trouble getting and staying pregnant. Our embryo quality was excellent, my uterine lining was thick and welcoming, my hormone levels perfect. Yet something wasn’t working.

While I appreciated her offer, I didn’t consider it seriously. What if something happened to her as a result of carrying my baby? She has three much-loved, much-wanted kids of her own, and I couldn’t imagine them losing their mom over trying to help me become one.

But that wasn’t the primary reason. Over the last six years, I’d lost focus. I was no longer obsessed with having my “own” baby, and I couldn’t muster enthusiasm for undergoing more rounds of IVF. I was ready to be a mom, now! For me, adoption made that more of a certainty. I still wanted a baby, desperately, but I’d accepted that the child wasn’t going to share a genetic link to me and to Erik. Now we had to find him or her.

In less than a year, we found my son’s birthmother, who chose us to adopt her baby, and he was born a few weeks later. As we drove to the hospital, I felt that long-forgotten excitement. What would our baby look like?

He was, and is, more beautiful than I could have believed. Today, at three, he has olive skin, huge blue eyes, thick curly lashes, a sunny smile, and dark, springy curls. His looks garner a lot of attention and compliments from both friends and strangers.

When complimented on his appearance, I always say “thank you.” Secretly, yes, I think he’s the most beautiful child who’s ever lived. But I had nothing to do with the genes responsible for his arresting looks. When I admire him, I’m admiring not my own genetic legacy, but that of his birth parents. I’m just the grateful recipient of it.

Yet I’m aware that he doesn’t look like me. I sometimes see people glance at me and then him, questions showing in their face. There’s no physical connection between us the way there is with my brother and his two children. His son is the carbon copy of my brother as a child, and their round faces mirror each other. His daughter looks like both of her parents, but we agree that my brother’s genes definitely have the last say. “Well, look at him,” a waitress said a few months ago. “Don’t you look just like your daddy?” I realized that no one will say that to me about Ryan. Does it matter? No…but it’s a reminder of what I lost, even while I gained so much.

Like the day a few months after a miscarriage. I was at a restaurant when a couple caught my eye. It was a woman with her daughter, maybe 12, enjoying each other’s company. The mom said something that made her daughter laugh, and they threw back their heads with the same mannerisms. They were both tall, long-limbed, dark-haired, with similar oval faces and features. They belonged to each other.

That’s what I had wanted, had dreamed of for years. I had to leave that fantasy behind. I’d never create my own genetic legacy, pass on my mom’s (and my own) dark brown eyes and love of chocolate and positive outlook to a child. My mom’s genes will be passed on through my brother’s children, but not my own.

Biological parents are often given the gift of seeing their physical selves reflected in their children’s faces. Adoptive parents look for other reflections. Like the way Ryan loves to read. The way he mutters “slow down, and try again” (his mommy’s mantra) to himself when he’s frustrated with something. The way he kneels next to our old golden retriever, gently stroking Sandy and calling her “good dog.”

That’s part of my legacy to him. I didn’t give him my genetics. But the things I do give him are even more important.

Kelly James-Enger is the coauthor of The Belated Baby: A Guide to Parenting after Infertility www.belatedbaby.com, (Cumberland House, 2008, with Jill S Browning), which examines the immediate and lasting impact infertility has on parents. Based on over 50 interviews with parents who endured infertility, it gives empathetic and humorous advice for those in the midst of transitioning from infertility patient to parent.

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The American Fertility Association, 305 Madison Avenue Suite 449, New York NY 10165.
Support Line: 888-917-3777. www.theafa.org