So, I called the doctor and set up an appointment. The feeling of trepidation was overwhelming as I walked through the doors and into the waiting room. They called my name and the fear washed over me completely. Then, of course, there was the time spent in the office waiting for the doctor. At this point, breathing seemed like a luxury that I wasn’t going to be granted anytime soon. Then the doctor came
Well, I don’t know what I was expecting from that appointment, but it was anti-climatic. The doctor reviewed my chart, I was examined and we talked. No answers, no solutions; just an appointment to start testing. Test #1: hysterosalpingogram.
Oh, yeah…with testing comes the need for a medical degree to just understand what is being done to you.
Anyway, it was a difficult time. Emotionally it was a roller coaster of “good news!! This test doesn’t show anything wrong!” followed by “bad news? This test didn’t show anything wrong, so we need to run a different test.” Blood test after blood test and one invasive procedure after another…
If you have ever wanted something that always seemed just out of reach, you can understand the feelings that start to overcome a person who wants a baby and can’t seem to make one. Regardless of the reasons, you start to feel totally inadequate.
I found myself in this place of sadness and confusion. Didn’t God make women to have children? Didn’t he say “go forth and multiply”? Why was I defective? I constantly wondered what egregious thing I had done that I was being punished for.
In 2005, Brian was offered a job back in Pennsylvania and we decided it was time to move on. Our 3 years in Vermont were fabulous. The bond with my parents, the learning experience at the restaurant, the growth in our relationship and the financial recovery that we were able to make during those years is unforgettable. It was hard to leave, but we knew that it was time. And we were going back to a place where our friends awaited us with open arms.
I found a new doctor – someone who specialized in fertility care and soon a diagnosis was finally reached. What a relief! Now, we could start treating the problem. Women with Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome are plagued with inadequate hormone support as well as the potential of not ovulating at all. There was treatment, though. In conjunction with daily charting, I found myself on hormone supplements, ovulatory stimulants, mucus builders and a monthly requirement for blood work. Needles again!! Have I mentioned yet my complete distaste and fear of needles??
After a YEAR of treatments, the doctor decided it was time to examine the possibility of endometriosis. An exploratory surgery was scheduled for February of 2007– and off I went. The surgery was successful. Not only did they discover stage 2 endometriosis, but scar tissue from the previous surgery and one ovary stuck to the outside of my uterus!!
I was losing hope. It had been 4 years since that Valentine’s Day when we decided it was time to have a baby. Suddenly, everyone around me seemed pregnant. All of my friends were either having babies or were DONE having babies. We’d been married for 8 years and had heard “so, when are you having kids?” so many times that I had lost track. And, let me tell you, when you want desperately to have a baby and CAN’T – nothing hurts more than hearing that question. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could go on. The routine was ridiculous. Take Chlomid days 3-7, take Mucinex day 12 thru Peak + 1, take antibiotic days 12-16, take progesterone and estrodial Peak + 3 thru Peak + 12, have blood test on Peak +7. It was exhausting!! It was almost comical sometimes. Go to the doctor for a cold or physical or whatever and what do they ask…”are you on any medications right now?” Boy, I had to bring in a sheet. I was like a walking pharmacy when I had to bring bottles with me to show labels. Was it worth it? Were the stress and anxiety and depression and heartache ever going to pay off? How much longer was I going to have to wait?
January 25, 2008…I got the call…the wait was over.
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