Today was...well, today was crap. There's really no other way to describe it. The day started with a 10am ovary check, after my second round of clomid. It was supposed to clear the way for me to start a round of injectable fertility drugs. It's the 3rd day of my cycle, so I also got to have a pelvic exam while on my period. Which, probably didn't bother the doctor, but really grossed me out. The doctor didn't like the look of my right ovary. It seems that the combination of the PCOS and the clomid turned my ovary into a misshapen mass of cysts. Bloody ones. He sent me down to the lab for an estrogen panel, and told me to show back up at 3:30 for a shot training class. While getting my blood drawn, the lab tech felt the need to not let the alcohol swab dry before stabbing with me a needle. And, despite my great veins, she also dug around a bit with the needle, making a bunch of ugly red marks on my arm. I was also told by my doctor to get a sample cup for a semen analysis for my husband. Which, first of all, involves asking my husband to provide a semen analysis. Then I had to get him entered into the computer, set up a lab drop off time for him (even though I couldn't tell them a date), and having another lab tech tell me that my husband needed to have abstained from ejaculation for 3-7 days. I asked if longer than 7 days was okay, and he said no. And now he also knows that we don't have sex that often. Sigh.
3:30 comes around, and I'm in a class with a bunch of other subfertile women. The nurse practitioner tells us all about how to give ourselves shots, how to store the shots, when to give them, and what the schedule is like for the month. Apparently, they have everyone on the same schedule, so they can treat a bunch of people at the same time. Kind of like inseminating cattle. At some point, the NP looks at my chart. "We need to call the doctor before we give you the first shot today". She calls him. He tells her that I need to wait a month or so, to let my ovaries calm down. She tells me this information, and says I need to go on birth control. WHAT? Apparently, this is what you do to let the cysts go down. At this point, they don't know when they are starting the August cycle of injections. So, I'm supposed to start taking the birth control, and call in a week or so when the hopefully have their schedule. However, B is taking a climbing trip in September, and he's been planning it for a year. So, if it conflicts, I have to stay on the Pill for two months, before starting the next round of treatment.
For some reason, this totally undoes me. I start crying uncontrollably in front of the NP, and the other subfertiles. The other subfertiles have their partners with them, and I'm all alone. Not that I need B to be there - he has a job. But it still makes me feel stupid. The NP gives me some line about infertility being hard. Then, to add insult to injury, she tells me I should still practice giving myself a shot, otherwise I'll have to come back and do this stupid seminar in a month. So, I jab an empty needle into my belly, and pretend to inject myself with hormones.
On the way out of the clinic, I stop at the pharmacy to pick up two months of birth control pills. The pharmicist sees that I am also on a bunch of fertility drugs, and questions why I would do such a thing. So I wind up explaining my subfertility, previous clomid cycles, and ovarian cysts to her. Which is exactly what I wanted to do.
At this point I go in the bathroom and sob for about 10 minutes. Then I go to meet B, as he has a work picnic. I'm pretty sure they'll all be asking him tomorrow why his wife is so morose.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Why Aren't You Pregnant?
After about 8 years of marriage, people start looking a little askance at your lack of offspring. They wonder if maybe you don't like kids, or maybe you're just too selfish and immature to have them. In our case, we were on the 5-year no baby plan. The five year plan stretched into a 7 year plan, with us both in grad school and having absolutely no money. We wanted to be stable, and not crazy busy and stressed. So, here we are, 33 and 40 years old, both with careers. The perfect time to have a kid. Except it didn't work out that way. I had a feeling something wasn't going to work right. I had had crazy cycles ever since I was a teenager. Weight gain, acne, no period for 4 months, then getting my period of 6 weeks straight. Then when I was 18, I started getting horrible pelvic pain. I was diagnosed as having ovarian cysts. The easiest thing for doctors to do was to put me on birth control. I know some women don't like to be on hormonal birth control, but for me, it was a magic drug. My cycles were normal. My weight was stable. My skin looked great. Once, in my 20's, I went off the pill for a few years. And all that crap came back. Weight gain, bad skin, pelvic pain, and crazy periods. Around this time, I got married, so I went back on the pill. Once again, the universe was in harmony.
Fast forward 7 years. We were finally in a place where it made sense to have a kid. We had careers, a house, some money in savings, we hadn't killed any of our pets yet. We were ready. I scheduled a pre-conception appointment with a doctor, like all the books say you are supposed to. Well, I'm not sure what I paid for, but there were no tests, no exam, no blood work. I told the doctor my concerns about going off birth control. She told me, "There's nothing you can do about that. Just try to get pregnant right away". So we tried. And....nothing.
Six months later, I was in for an annual exam (different doctor). She referred me to get an ultrasound, just to make sure I didn't have any fibroids, car keys, or alien babies in my uterus. During the ultrasound, the radiologist mentioned I had ovarian cysts. In my head, I responded, "No sh**, tell me something I didn't know. I've been dealing with that since I was 18". And then he pointed out on the screen (for the nurse's benefit, not actually mine), "Look at that. Classic string of pearls". I had no idea what he was talking about. Exam was over, I left.
About a week later, the nurse from the doctor who referred me for the ultrasound called. She said, "Because of your Polycystic Ovarian Disease and your Ovarian Dysfunction, we're referring you to a fertility specialist". My WHAT? Those were the first time I had ever heard those words. It's on my to-do list to write that doctor a note, and let her know she needs to find better ways to tell unplesant news to her patients.
Fortunatly, the doctor I got sent to (an RE) is great. He did lots of tests, and confirmed, yes, I do have PCOS. We formulated a strategy for getting preggo, and how to deal with a lifetime of PCOS.
If you've never heard of PCOS, just google it. Now imagine someone tell you that you have this syndrome. And it will scare the hell out of you. Apparently, one thing you can do to improve things, is to cut out sugar and refined grains. So, I've been doing that since late April. The first few months were hard, but it's gotten better since then. But it's going to be a battle. And it's never going to go away.
Fast forward 7 years. We were finally in a place where it made sense to have a kid. We had careers, a house, some money in savings, we hadn't killed any of our pets yet. We were ready. I scheduled a pre-conception appointment with a doctor, like all the books say you are supposed to. Well, I'm not sure what I paid for, but there were no tests, no exam, no blood work. I told the doctor my concerns about going off birth control. She told me, "There's nothing you can do about that. Just try to get pregnant right away". So we tried. And....nothing.
Six months later, I was in for an annual exam (different doctor). She referred me to get an ultrasound, just to make sure I didn't have any fibroids, car keys, or alien babies in my uterus. During the ultrasound, the radiologist mentioned I had ovarian cysts. In my head, I responded, "No sh**, tell me something I didn't know. I've been dealing with that since I was 18". And then he pointed out on the screen (for the nurse's benefit, not actually mine), "Look at that. Classic string of pearls". I had no idea what he was talking about. Exam was over, I left.
About a week later, the nurse from the doctor who referred me for the ultrasound called. She said, "Because of your Polycystic Ovarian Disease and your Ovarian Dysfunction, we're referring you to a fertility specialist". My WHAT? Those were the first time I had ever heard those words. It's on my to-do list to write that doctor a note, and let her know she needs to find better ways to tell unplesant news to her patients.
Fortunatly, the doctor I got sent to (an RE) is great. He did lots of tests, and confirmed, yes, I do have PCOS. We formulated a strategy for getting preggo, and how to deal with a lifetime of PCOS.
If you've never heard of PCOS, just google it. Now imagine someone tell you that you have this syndrome. And it will scare the hell out of you. Apparently, one thing you can do to improve things, is to cut out sugar and refined grains. So, I've been doing that since late April. The first few months were hard, but it's gotten better since then. But it's going to be a battle. And it's never going to go away.
Introduction
So it's come to this. An infertility blog. Or as I like to call it, "subfertility". Infertility has such finality to it. I never thought I'd be in this demographic - women who have difficulty having children. I think every woman who plans on getting pregnant (and not everyone plans), has a tiny voice in her head that says "maybe I can't get pregnant". And for most women, that voice is wrong. But for me, that voice was dead on. So, I figured the best way to wrestle with all these emotions is to write about them. I could have just typed them all up, and put them on my computer and no one would ever see them. But the truth is, I scour the internet looking for other women's stories - what they went though, did they have any success, what worked, what didn't work, etc. So, I'm hoping maybe this blog might help someone else out too.
If you're wondering about the title of the blog, it's from The Beatles "Hey Jude". Because subfertility is a sad song. And I'm trying to make it better.
If you're wondering about the title of the blog, it's from The Beatles "Hey Jude". Because subfertility is a sad song. And I'm trying to make it better.
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