In the beginning...

I've just been thinking about when all this began and thought I should write it down. When my husband, we'll call him Hubbie, and I got married, we decided to wait a year until we started our family--you know get to know each other, get ourselves established, all that stuff. Technically I would have been happy getting pregnant on our honeymoon, but at the time I was just starting a master's program, still paying off my undergraduate schooling, and we were pretty broke. And it was nice just being together. Sometimes I think that if I had known what a struggle it would be for us to have a baby, I would have started right away, but 'should haves' and 'could haves' don't do much for me, so why bother kicking myself! And Hubbie always likes to point out that we were able to do a lot of good things that we probably wouldn't have been able to do if we had kids back then. When we finally stopped the birth control (after many debates) I was ecstatic. I knew the facts that it usually takes a couple of months after you stop birth control to conceive, so I was patient at first. My mom had struggled having kids-it took five years for me, nine years for my sister, and then my brother surprised everyone a couple of years later. But I just pushed that to the back of my mind-forget genetics, forget the fact that many of my aunts also struggled with having a baby--everything was going to be perfect for me. Not quite. Hubbie and I tried for a year on our own and I have to say that was probably the worst time period of all. I didn't know it at the time, but I have endometriosis and not being on birth control allowed it to continue to get worse and worse. So each month my period got more and more painful. But worse than the cramps, was the monthly broken heart. I would do the temperature thing and the ovulation tests and all that, and every month I would think, "this is it--I'm pregnant!" And then my period would start and I would cry and get depressed and curl up with my heating pad. I was so darn stubborn too. Even when I would start to get mild cramps, I would think that maybe it was part of being pregnant but in the back of my mind I knew that I wasn't. I should have bought stock in EPT, since I bought enough of them! If my period didn't start exactly when it should, I would do a test and even when it was negative, I would still convince myself that those tests can sometimes be wrong and that I could still be pregnant. An hour later, I would start my period. Plus, my cycles started getting irregular, I was suddenly gaining all of this weight, and breaking out. I was turning into an infertile BEAST! Meanwhile, friends all around me were starting their families. It was an ugly, ugly time.
Then a ray of light came into my gloom, a friend who had struggled with infertility but who had just had twins recommended her ob-gyn to me. So I started to go to him. Finally, I was feeling more in charge of my body. I started taking medication to regulate my cycle. Once we got that under control, I began taking fertility drugs. I like to think of this time period as my Jekyll Era. Scary, scary! I began with Clomid and after taking maximum dose of that moved on to this other experimental stuff. Those drugs had me on such an emotional roller coaster. It was almost like this out-of-body experience because I could see how I was acting but couldn't do anything to stop it. I would be all happy go-lucky one minute, sobbing hysterically the next or raging the next. I amazed that my husband stuck by me through all of that. Plus I was the sex commando--timing was everything whether you were in the mood or not and it became less making love and more just doing what we had to do. Unfortunately, the fertility drugs didn't lead to babies but led to cysts. Big, painful cysts. After over a year of more heartache and ovary-ache, my doctor had me do some more tests (HSG is NOT very nice), recommended that I do a laparoscopy (sorry I can't even say it, let alone spell it!), and recommended that I begin to see a fertility specialist.
That was a huge turning point for me. That was when we discovered the endometriosis. You know it's not pretty when the doctor's impressed with the before and after pictures and wants to use them for textbooks and your husband still has nightmares from the pictures! =) I guess I was all scar tissue and my ovaries were stuck to my hips. But a month or two after I got all cleaned out and my ovaries were free floaters again, things were feeling so much better. And that's when I began my journey at the fertility center with Dr. B and his staff (who I have mentioned before as angels from heaven!) After testing and what not, we decided that the best route was IVF. I remember the first time I went to the IVF training class. I was thinking, "no way! I can't do it! Shots in the stomach? And then bigger shots in the hips for a month...no way." I've never been a needle person. I don't give blood and one time a nurse was taking some blood and was fishing around for a vein in my arm with the needle in my arm, and just by reflex I kicked her right in the behind. Nope, needles are not my thing. Anyway, when they pulled out the needles for us to practice, I think I almost passed out. My husband wasn't very reassuring as he showed me how he gives a horse a shot and how 'easy' it would be. But the nurses were very patient and gentle and put up with me calling a hundred times to make sure I was doing everything right. The first time I gave myself a shot, it took me almost two hours to get up the nerve to do it. One, two, three...one, two, three...while giving myself pep talks while sitting in the dining room with a needle in my hand while crying. I was such a wuss!
The first round of IVF was really scary. Every detail was explained to me and everyone answered all of my questions, even the stupid ones, but I was still a nervous wreck. On the day of transfer when they put the fertilized eggs back in, I learned what exactly is meant by an 'almost full' bladder. I was a bit of an overachiever in filling up my bladder and was even gulping down water on the way to the doctor's office. By the time it was time for the actual transfer, I was drowning. I had to pee so bad that I literally thought I was going to explode. The nurse told me that I could try using the bathroom and stopping after I filled up half of a cup. But if I totally emptied my bladder, I would have to postpone the transfer until I could fill up my bladder again and when the doctor could re-schedule . I had never tried the on/off faucet downstairs before, but I was in so much pain that I decided it was worth a try. And I did it somehow. I suggested that the doctor's office offer some sort of trophy or certificate for an accomplishment like that, but I have yet to see it...Anyway, after they did the transfer my husband and I just sat in that surgery room and cried together. Hubbie didn't say it at the time, but he had the feeling that it didn't work. I did too, but in my usual fashion, ignored the feeling and pushed the thought to the back of my mind. Then we waited for the results. It's only a couple of weeks, but, believe me, it can feel like years. I really feel bad for the poor nurse who had to call with the blood results. I just cried and cried and cried. I tried to wait until I hung up the phone but it didn't work. She was so good though and optimistic--it was just a first try not the end of the road.
So even though the first round of IVF didn't work, it was a great learning experience for me. I really learned a lot about myself and what I am capable of. I feel like I'm stronger for it. I really think I was just too freaked out to let it work in the beginning. I'm trying to learn to calm down, be faithful...let God do the stressing. The key word is learning (I'll get there someday)! Well, we did a second round of IVF and a little different protocol. I ended up getting pretty sick that round. I was much calmer that time and at least knew first hand what to expect. Unfortunately, my estradiol levels skyrocketed and we couldn't really get super quality eggs. And where it usually stops working is at that point where we're waiting for those cells to grow and multiply. The part where I've done all that I can and the doctor has done all that he can, an it's just up to God to do the rest. So far we just haven't had our time table in sync with God's. But it's got to happen sometime, right!
So right now, I'm in the middle of my third round of IVF. This has definitely been my best cycle yet. I go in for retrieval Friday. Looking at things this morning at my ultrasound, I've got some pretty dang good looking follicles...I've been feeding Hubbie lots of veggies so his swimmers will be ready to go...it's feeling really good so far. I'm a hopeless optimist (there's an oxymoron for you!) and just hoping and praying it will work out this time. If not, I cry, I re-group, and I keep going forward! So, there you go, my journey so far. Sorry for the novel!