What doesn't kill you....

Well, I received the saddest voicemail message yesterday..."Unfortunately, your pregnancy test came back negative. Call us back on the second day of your cycle to schedule an ultrasound."  I was by myself in my car when I heard that voicemail message and alone as I cried the entire drive home to my husband's arms. I honestly don't know what I would do without his calm and reassuring support. He is my rock in these times of anger, hopelessness, guilt, and sadness. After crying it out in his arms, I managed to pull myself up by my bootstraps and decided to start again on the provera today. I am not willing to give in to the hopelessness that tries to creep into my heart, instead I want to try another cycle asap.

I know what I want. I want to be a mother to my child. This may sound a little crazy, but I feel like I already know this unborn child of mine. I know him. I can almost see him. I just can't find my way to him. There is something standing in my way and I want to knock that obstacle down with all my strength. If that means putting my body through more IUI and then IVF or even considering adoption later on, I will do it. I'm not giving up. Not this time. Not ever. I have hope and I have faith and I will find my child one day.

Ouch....

Had bloodwork done this morning and it looks like my progesterone level is normal. That means its time to take my second HCG shot. I'm not exactly looking forward to it. Those things really hurt.

Oh, well. No pain, no gain.

Here goes nothing...

We had our first IUI procedure today!!! I was surprisingly calm all morning up until I got to the examination room and my husband and I had to wait for what seemed like FOREVEEEEEEEER for the doctor.  And that’s when it hit me. But I put on my brave face as the doctor and I double and triple checked our sperm. I mean the last thing we want is someone else’s sperm swimming up my tubes.

The actual procedure only took maybe 2 minutes. It wasn’t THAT bad; probably just slightly more uncomfortable than a pap-smear. But my husband was right by my side rubbing my hand nonetheless. He stayed by my side as I lay down for 10 minutes after the procedure. I haven’t really “felt” anything since then.

Keeping our fingers crossed…

First cycle...

So it has started. By “it” I mean our first cycle of Provera-Clomid-HCG-IUI. Clomid wasn’t as bad as I was expecting it to be. I’d heard so many negative things from friends and read horrible stories online about the side effects of Clomid, i.e. irritability, hot flashes, weight gain, etc. But luckily, I haven’t experienced any of those. Maybe it’s because I’m only on 50mg. Okay, maybe, just maybe I’ve been a little moodier than normal lately, but I’m not sure if that is directly due to the Clomid or rather the stress I’ve been experiencing over this whole process.

Let me elaborate. I went in for my first ultrasound after Clomid last Friday to see how big my follicles were. I was super excited and feeling very optimistic. The nurse had mentioned that they want to see a follicle that is at least 18mm. Well, mine fell short of that, way short. So they asked me to go back in on Friday for another ultrasound. Again, no dice. In fact, my follicles barely grew, maybe just 1-2 mm’s each. So the doctor asked me to go in again this Thursday for a third ultrasound. If they aren’t the size they are supposed to be, they will increase my Clomid dosage.

BLAH!!! I wasn’t expecting to be stuck at this phase of the cycle. I’m trying very hard not to let this little snag in the plan get to me, but I’ll admit there are moments when I’m scared….that maybe this won’t work. But, I have to stay positive. I mean this just the first cycle, right?  

The results, please?

Yesterday I was back at my doctor’s office to talk about the results from all our lab work. Can you say “nervous?” I totally did not know what to expect as I sat in the waiting room for the doctor to call my name. To make matters more nerve-racking, the doctor asked me if it was okay for his intern to sit in on our consultation. Being the very thoughtful person that I am, I said, “Suuuuuuuuuuuure.”  When will I ever learn???

So the good news: almost everything, including my thyroid and my glucose level, looks good. The bad news: my testosterone level is almost 5x what it should be. Say what?! I LOL-ed in front of the doctor AND his intern. What do you mean my testosterone level is ridiculously elevated? Last time I checked, I had a vajajay.  

Oh well, not a big surprise I guess.  So how do we fix this problem, doc? He recommended Clomid, HCG, and IUI. And then he looked at me. I almost wanted to cry.

Oh what an amazing mixture of emotions. Yes, I finally got a definitive answer to my question: “How can I get pregnant?” But I also felt sorry for myself for being in this position. Why does it have to be me? Why can’t I get pregnant normally like most other women I know? And yet another part of me was excitedly scared, with that feeling you get as you are climbing up a big roller coaster. And what a roller coaster this is turning out to be.

Sigh.

Sweet Stuff...

So I crawled out of bed at 7am this morning and drove to the fertility clinic for my glucose tolerance test. I found the clinic to be much busier today. There were three couples and several women in the waiting room this time.  I couldn’t help but notice that I might have been the youngest person there. Oh, well.

It was time for my test. The nurse drew my blood to be my baseline blood sugar level. It was 97. Normal.

She then handed me this small sealed bottle and asked me to drink its contents as quickly as I can. I did so and found the drink to taste like very sweet, flat orange soda. I was told to come back in exactly 2 hours to get my blood drawn again.

So I worked out at the gym and returned like clockwork two hours later. I had a tube of blood drawn this time. I was told if it was abnormal the doctor would give me a call. Regardless, we will discuss the results at my next appointment the week after next.

I gotta say, I’m getting really good at not freaking out at the sight of a needle. I don’t even have to hold my mom’s hand anymore. Wow. Go me!!!

Our First Time....

So the day arrived for our first appointment at the fertility clinic.  I was super nervous but excited. So much so that I almost had a nervous break down the night before and got very little sleep. I left work early that day and met my husband at home. There, he was able to take a refreshing nap while I watched back-to-back “A Baby Story” episodes and tried to hold back tears as the women featured gave birth.

PS - Why do I always cry during these shows? I don’t know these women from Jack and yet I find myself crying hysterically each time one of them gives birth. Sigh.

But I digress. We arrived at the clinic and settled in to wait for the doctor. We were quickly summoned and led to his office. I swear I heard angels singing in the background as I shook his hand. I was just so excited to meet someone who I felt would be able to answer some questions for us. But first HE had a ton of questions for us. He asked us about our general health (thankfully we are both pretty healthy), lifestyle, and family history. I explained my issue with my period being MIA for most of the last 8 months. I also explained the normal ultrasound and elevated testosterone levels from this past summer. He explained that he would run his own tests including an ultrasound that he would conduct next.

So I was led to an examination room where I had my first up-close-and-personal experience with a male doctor. And I must admit…<drum roll, please>…that it wasn’t that bad. It was actually quick and painless. The doc then conducted the ultrasound which very quickly confirmed my fear: cysts…and lots of them.

A part of me was happy because I finally knew for sure that something was wrong. I know that sounds crazy, but I’d rather know what exactly that “something” is than sit around and let my body “just do its thing” like many people recommended I do. So I was somewhat relieved that this doctor was so quickly able to get straight to the nitty-gritty. He also recommended some blood work, a glucose test, and a semen analysis from my husband. The results of all the tests would be discussed at our next appointment in two weeks.

In the meantime, the most unpleasant part of the visit was actually getting my blood drawn. A nurse who swore up and down that she was an OR nurse and was simply here “helping out” proceeded to poke me (Ms. Panic-at-the-sight-of-blood-needles-etc) several times before finally drawing 8 tubes of blood from the side of my wrist of all places.

Apparently all my veins are on the side of my wrist.

And then it was all done. I left the clinic feeling surprisingly happy because it was a very productive appointment. I got the answer I needed (“Yes, you do have cysts”), we found the doctor and staff to be very pleasant (Yes, even the evil nurse who gave me a black-and-blue as a souvenir), and found a new sense of hope that maybe I can be fixed.

Ouch.