SOME PEOPLE...

Hey, guess what people? I saw Dr. Happy-go-lucky today!
I walked into the office (I didn't have a real appointment), and about 15 minutes later Nurse Sweet called out my name. (I must add that I never wait less than an hour when I have an appointment there. No joke. I can read a whole book while waiting. So I consider myself very lucky today.) Nurse sweet quided me into Dr. HGL's office, where I plopped myself down and read for a good half hour. (But I was in her office-no one was getting ahead of me.) (Boy am I overusing the brakets today or what?!)
Enter Doctor. She sat down and discussed the cycle. I whipped out my list, and pinned her down for some answers. Here's what what we decided:

1. I will go straight to the hospital for a blood test-do not pass go, do not collect $200.00. (I have to go to the hospital if I want a free blood test. It's just up the hill from the office, so I don't mind. And the wait isn't too bad.) She ordered a beta (which we know will be neg,) and some other stuff that I will post about when I get the results.

2. Asked about ultrasound to check that there are not cysts. She told me that if I had OHSS that I would know. She is not concerned that with my past dose of 50mg clomid that this would have occured. I did read R's story over at The Uterine Grail, and yes I am a bit freaked out, but I am goign with my Dr. on this one for this cycle.

3. Talked about Provera to end this cycle. I told the Dr. that my Homeopath suggested homeopathic provera, and she was cool with this. I told her I would give it a shot, and if my period didn't come in 2 weeks then I would take the drugs. She was interested, and wanted me to keep her posted on whether or not it did the trick. (Good response from a doctor, as docotr's in general do not "believe" in homeopathy.)

4. Talked about my previous blood tests. She showed me the lab report, and yes the number did look fine. Like really fine. She doesn't see a reason to retest right now. I am still shoked by these levels.

5. Dr. HGL provided me with a requisition for a semen analysis for The C (who is currently on vacation- wait till he gets home to hear about this!!) She told me very seriously: "You MUST abstain for 3 days prior to the test!" Aye, Aye, Boss.

6. When period arrives I will take my 100mg of Clomid like a good girl. Then I will have sex on a schedule. With my husband. And chances are it won't be good. (The Sex.) Because when you have to have it, generally that is the case. It stresses me out that I might get pregnant from non-passionate sex. I know, I'm a freak. But I also realize that means that I am thinking that I actually might get pregnant from having sex, period. A woman can hope, can't she?

I left the office feeling light hearted, a little fancy free, even. I know! Weird! I'm not sure what came over me! The McDonald's next door beckoned me and I succomed to a McFlurry. I couldn't resist, people! Could NOT resist! Besides, I needed the energy to walk up the hill. It's a trek! And it's hot out! I got to the blood clinic, and there was but one person in line ahead of me, Oh, the day was getting even better! "Next" called the guy (let's call him Idiot.) I hand Idiot my form, my hospital card and my medicare card. He enters my info and looks up at me (slobbering away at my last spoonfuls of McFlurry) and says: "oh, so you're pregnant!" (Ok, everyone who just fell of their seats, back on your chairs so that you can read the rest of my story.) I resisted all urges to grab Idiot my the nutsack, whip his balls around his anus and pull them up to stuff in his mouth, and repied: "No, thanks, but I don't think so." TO WHICH HE HAD THE AUDACITY TO REPY: "Oh, I think you aaaaaare!" (In a sing song voice.)

I have a couple of issues here.

First: who trained this guy? I mean really! It is not his place to comment on the type of test I am getting. It is his job to enter my information into a computer, for the love of all things holy! What if I was getting an HIV test? would he have said: "Oh, so you have AIDS!" I mean, COME THE FUCK ON!

Second: What on earth would actually make him think that I was pregnant in the first place. Granted, I am no small girl (I am a good 40 pounds overweight), but I certainly do not look pregnant. Chubby, yes. Volumptuous, ok. But certainly not pregnant. (And don't non-pregnant women eat McFlurrys?)

Third: What if I didn't want to be pregnant? What if I was raped and I was having this test to see if I had conceived like that? WHAT IF? I think that would be almost a million times worse that being infertile and having a beta, knowing that of course you can't be pregnant, you're infertile.

Fourth: The fact of the matter is that I KNOW that I am not pregnant. And I really wish that I was. And that having this test means another failed month, another day I have to wait. Taking this test is just a medical confirmation of the shit that I already know about. And it fucking sucks.

This Idiot was really lucky that toady I decided to wear my thick skin.

A LITTLE CHILLAXED

Boy, you guys sure know how to empathize. It is amazing to me that we have all had experience like the one that I had yesterday with the receptionist at the doctor's office. I litterally got off the phone thinking what the fuck. So rude.
Anywyas, I am trying to move on. The nurse called at 5:30 (on my cell) as I was preparing dinner at my parents' house. The fact that she tracked me down impressed me somewhat (I actually happen to like the nurse, she's very sweet), and then she passed me along to Dr. Happy-go lucky. I told her that I wanted to come in and see her, and she was totally ok aobut that. She also seemed genuinely disappointed to hear that I had a negative HPT. I would have asked her all my questions, but of course I wasn't home, and I couldn't remember them all. Dr. HGL did say something about the possibility of Metformin, and that really freaks me out.
So tomorrow I am off the the doctor, for a bloodtest, and to ask all the questions. Today I am chilled out a bit. We shall see what tomorrow brings!

IS THIS WHAT I AM IN FOR?

I called my Gyn's office this morning to get things back on the road. A replay of the conversation between me and the receptionist.

Her: Dr's office
Me: Hi there, this is Ms. C speaki-
Her: (cutting me off) Hold on
Me: (listens to "Total Eclipse of the Heart" followed by some ads while on hold for an interminable period of time.)
Her: Yes, who is this?
Me: This is Ms. C
Her: Yes?
Me: Well, I was prescibed Provera and Serophene by Dr. Happy-go-lucky and now I have taken a pregnancy test and, well, I'm not pregnant.
Her: Did you get your period?
Me: No, that's why I'm calling, I would like a new prescription.
Her: Well, when did you take the Provera?
Me: (almost in tears-why am I having to go through this with the RECEPTIONIST) 45 days ago. Then I tool the Serophene and now its is many days later, I took a HPT and it appears that I am NOT PREGNANT. So I would like to keep moving along.
Her: Hold on.
Me: (Holding....)
Her: What's the number of your pharmacy?
Me: (gives number first and then I say) But I would really like to talk to Dr. HGL before I start my next cycle. I have a couple of questions...
Her: (a bit annoyed) I'll see what I can do.
Me: Thanks so much (bitch.)

It's a number of hours later and I still haven't heard back. I haven't heard form the pharmacy either. I WOULD like to go in for a blood test to be CERTAIN that I am not pregnant. (Not like I'm not certain, but I need the concrete proof.) I have a good friend's wedding reception this weekend, and I can't think of a better way to celebrate that and my non-conception that to get pissed drunk.

THANK YOU

To everyone! For your comments, encouragement and ideas. I realize that there are some things that I can control, and for those I will certainly take action.

I like lists, so I will make one.
1. Call Gyn to get requisition for blood test.
2. Go for test, wait for negative result from bitchy receptionist. (Who last time said to me: "Well what do you want the result to be?" before she let me have it.)
3. Will ask Gyn about ultrasound before starting Clomid again to make sure there are no cysts (thanks Erin!)
4. Work on ending this cycle (ie: get me a period!) I am currently working with a Homeopath to try to see if I can regulate my cycle in a more natural way. This might take a bit longer than just pumping in the Provera, but if I could save some drugs from going into my body it would make me feel so much better. (I'm sure I will write a post about this at some other time).
5. Give the Homeopathic remedy until July 10 to work its magic. If we don't have success there, bring on the Provera.
6. Will ask Gyn to do day 3 bloods to have an acturate story about all my levels.
7. Will ask Gyn about semen analysis for The C. (thanks GZ, hopefully this will speed things along.)
8. If Gyn will not do mid-cycle monitoring, get BBT equipment, and keep track.
9. Will call clinic to pester about earlier appointment. (Thanks Thalia!)
10. When period comes, start my 100mg of Clomid. Proceed with s-e-x, albeit on a schedule that is bound to drive me batty.

Wow, I actually think that I feel better. Also writing this list here makes me think that I have a responsibility to uphold. I must complete this list.

THE FINALE

I’m thinking it’s fine time to finish this story up. I have to say it’s been great getting all these years of emotions off my chest, even if I am doing so in a rather rambling fashion. It’s good to get it all out, alright!
Oh yes, the October 23rd Appointment. Thanks, LutC, for freaking out about the date! Believe me, I did too when I heard it. Holy shit, I thought, that’s not for another 7 months (as this was back in April.) Surprisingly, for being a big city, it doesn’t seem like Montreal has that much to offer in terms of fertility centres. The one my appointment is at comes very highly recommended by my doctor, and apparently it is very personal. I’m excited about what I have heard and read about this clinic, but of course I won’t know till I get there. The receptionist who I spoke to seemed real sweet, especially as we were winding down our call and she said: “Just letting you know there is a $100.00 cancellation fee if do not cancel more than 24 hours before your appointment.” To which I replied: “Well why on earth would I want to cancel??” “Well you might be pregnant!” she said with glee. Wishful thinking! It never occurred to me that it could happen, but I guess it does…
So, until then (four months minus one day and counting):
My gynecologist has issued me a ticket on the Clomid train. (Really it’s Serophene, but you know, it’s all the same!) (You see LutC, I am getting busy in the meantime!!) Round 1 with 50mg is coming to a close. Because I don’t spontaneously bleed, we started with another dose of Provera. I hadn’t gotten my period since November, and it showed up in true form. It wasn’t going to let me down this time. It pulled out all the stops, making a real spectacle of itself. (Please refer back to Part 1 to learn how much I REALLY love to menstruate.) I took the drugs form days 5-9 and waited for some side effects. I don’t think that much happened; perhaps I was a bit mood swingy. I did have a full meltdown one evening right before going to sleep, and I mean COMPLETE. Like the world was going to fall apart. Like nothing would ever be right. Like my husband is a terrible creature.
Of course he is not terrible. Without him I don’t think I would have made it through the night. Funny shit drugs do to you.
When my five days were up, it was time to start doing it like rabbits, as per my doctor’s schedule. (Having done so much research I am interested in the fact that she doesn’t think that it’s necessary to do any monitoring mid cycle. But that’s a whole other post on its own.) As mentioned before I am quite neurotic, I worry a lot and get stressed quite easily. Before we even began, the thought of having sex on a schedule was freaking me out. What is we forget? What if I’m too tired? What if it’s not good? What if we miss the one millisecond that I actually ovulate? And WHAT IF HIS SPERM ISN’T GOOD (we haven’t tested yet…)
I am very serious when it comes to following directions and doing things just right. I feel that if I do one little thing wrong that it will jeopardize any chance we have with conceiving by having old fashioned sex. The worst part is that I can’t help thinking that all this stress and worrying is just the beginning. There are parts of my heart and brain that are already pretty sure that the Clomid won’t do the trick.
I POAS last Sunday for the hell of it. It was day 24 of my cycle. (Maybe I ovulated early, I thought to myself. After all, I don’t really know what a cycle is for me.) Of course it was negative. (DUH!) I don’t know how I am going to be able to do this month after month. I walked to the drugstore to get a test for tomorrow (Day 31). The store was closed. No stick for me!! On day 35 I can go for a blood test to prove the inevitable and start this process all over again.
Now that I’ve made the decision that I want to get pregnant, I feel that every second ticking away. Once I set my mind to something I like to take control and make it happen. It’s always how I have done everything in my life. I am not a person who fails, gives up or gives in. I think that’s what the hardest part of facing my infertility.

OK, WHERE DID I LEAVE OFF

Right! Wanting a baby! A baby-woo hoo!
I am not a pessimistic person. I definitely think that the glass is half full. In fact when it comes to my life I dare say that the glass is pretty damn near full. In the past when it came to talking about having kids I always said "yes, I can't wait! But not now, one day...". There was always a reason for "not now": let's travel! renovate the house! And other things like: I'm not so patient, maybe I won't be a good mother. As I said, I'm not a pessimist, but a realist. And neurotic.
My husband, though, he got to me. "We've traveled," he said. And of course he reassured me that there was no doubt in his mind that I would be a terrific mother. A mother to our babies that we would have together. (Man, if you all could hear the big sigh that I made as I wrote that line...)
I had been worrying for years what would happen when I went off the pill. Me, the realist (not pessimist!): "Well, honey when I stop talking the pill, I don't think that I'm gonna get my period so easily..." Him, the eternal optimist (and typical misinformed man): "Oh darling, you're older now, you've probably grown out of the trouble with your period." Me: "Are you on Crack? A woman knows her body." And off the pill I went.
The last pill I took was on August 1, 2005. I was 30 years old.
I don't have to tell you how exhilarating it was to have sex for the first few weeks without birth control. OMG, we were making a baby! Ya right.
Like I said, a woman knows her body. My period didn't come in September, and it didn't come in October. In November I called my doctor and she prescribed Provera. I was humiliated that I had to have a blood test to make sure I wasn't pregnant first. I know you have to do that, but come on! A girl who doesn't ovulate can't get pregnant! Negative test, Start Provera.
I hadn't seen my period for 2 months, so I thought for sure I would bleed like a mad woman. Not so. My period was quite light. Heck, there was so little flow I was frightened to use a tampon. BUT, there was flow! We had period! Maybe I wasn't so broken.
December, January, February, March... I felt like knocking on my uterus and screaming "HELLO, WHAT'S GOING ON IN THERE?" My face was breaking out. I had the worst zits ever. (I still do, but as the moths are wearing on I'm learning not to look in the mirror and obsess about them too much.) And, of course I had the return of the facial hair. (Pretty, I know... but I am adept at using tweezers.) My husband kept saying: "Give it time, you will ovulate, you will get your period on your own." I knew something was up, but was scared to face it. I was reading infertility info and your blogs day in and day out. I was getting a glimpse of what was in store for us. Every day I thought: today I will call the doctor. And then I didn't.
I waited till my annual pap to broach the subject with my doctor again. We discussed how I didn't get my period again, how I wanted to get pregnant, and how I was getting very anxious. She sent me for the range of bloods, for a lovely ultrasound, and handed me the number for a fertility clinic to make an appointment.
Imagine my shock when the bloods all came back within normal range. Me! Normal! Hormones! This was a major surprise. The other surprise (though because of my history and my extensive research was not so major,) was the result of the ultrasound: polycystic ovaries. Of course this explains ALOT, but I still baffled that with the ovarian cyst that I had removed a number of years ago no one thought to periodically check on my ovaries. Also, I had been told that the removed cyst was a one time deal, and doesn't have any relationship to my current PCO. Well that's all in the past, and I will never know is this is a condition I have had for most of my life.
Oh and the fertility clinic? Earliest appointment? October 23rd.
I hate to leave you hanging, but I gotta go work out... check back for the exciting conclusion of Ms. C's story-to-date!

THIS IS IT (PART ONE)

I am facing that getting pregnant is going to be a challenge. I've been discussing it constantly with my husband for months. Sometimes we talk about having a baby in the same way we talk about traveling around the world, or having the most beautiful gardens in a huge back yard of a mansion. As if they are dreams-things that we can strive for, but in reality might not be able to attain. I've been avoiding writing out my story up to this point. I feel like writing it here is going to make it very real.
I think I always knew that I would have trouble conceiving.
My chest developed early, I got my first period when I was twelve (which for my stage of development seemed a little late in retrospect). I sat in the bathroom and cried. I didn't know how to tell my mother. I was too shy to leave the bathroom and say "Mom, I need a pad." I didn't have to, because she knocked on the door and came in and showed me what to do. It was a horrible 7 days. So heavy, so yucky. I was happy and relieved when it didn't come back the next month. Or the month after that. Or for about 7 months after that. And again it arrived. Heavy as anything. Just thinking about it now makes shudder. My boobs kept growing. This I did not complain about, it made for a very curvy teenaged body. I dreaded getting my period-I never knew when it was going to come, but I knew how bad it would be.
I always had dark hair on my legs and my arms. How I begged my mother to let me start shaving!! Oy! The trials and tribulations of a teenager! At about 15 I started noticing hair on my face. It was kind of make its way down my face like sideburns. I know- not so attractive for a young lady. I was totally self-conscious about it, and was even mocked on a couple of occasions. However, this coupled with my infrequent periods was enough to wisk me off to the doctor. I was referred to an endocrinologist and my mom took me to see her gynecologist. It did not take too long to find that my hormones were out of whack. (To this day I still don't know what was too high or too low...) It was decided that we should wait a bit before we started any treatment-after all, I was young, maybe this would all straighten itself out. In the meantime I went for electrolysis to remove the hair from my face.
Fast forward a couple of years... Guess what? Periods were still not cooperating. It's decided that I should go on the pill. (It must have been horrifying for my mother to go in and fill the prescription as she was friends with the pharmacist.) Well for me-it was a miracle! Regular periods that weren’t heavy! No new hair growth on my face! Thinner and lighter hair on my legs! And birth control-an added bonus. For years there was little I could complain about when it came to my area of conception. I never grew to love my period, but I certainly learned to accept it. I was thrilled when it signified that I was not pregnant.
I saw the endocrinologist regularly for check ups (and he used to make fun of me coming to see him dressed in my school uniform-I think he dealt mainly with older women.) I have to say that honestly I have little recollection of these appointments. My mother did most of the talking-I was very shy. Or maybe I have selective memory. I can remember what the waiting room looked like. I can picture the doctor’s office. But I have no idea what was discussed.
When I was 21 he suggested I go for an ultrasound just to see what was going on. At the appointment a large cyst was found in one of my ovaries. Surgery was scheduled for the Christmas holidays of my third year of university. They removed it by laparoscopy, and I was told that it was the size of a grapefruit. And that my ovary was totally fine. And so I go about my life.
The next year the C (my husband) and I make our on again off again relationship official. After living together for 6 years and finishing graduate school we got married. Which up to that point was really the best day of my life. Each day we spend together reinforces the fact that we are meant to be together. Each hurdle we have to cross makes up stronger as a couple.
The C has always talked about having kids. Family is really important to him, and starting our family has always been at the front of his mind. I have to say that his biological clock has been ticking for years. He was the one who got mush at the sight of babies on the street. We each have 2 nieces that we are very close with. I love them all to pieces. Until about a year ago I also loved that at the end of the day I was able to hand them back to their parents at then end of the day. A year ago I realized that we both had steady work. We had enough money. We are settled where we want to live. We have a big enough home. We were ready for the challenge. We wanted a baby.

FATHER'S DAY

Father's Day for us is not so much a holiday, but an excuse to gather the immediate family together. My mom and dad, my brother and his girls, my grandmother and grandfather. For seven months of last year my grandfather was in the hospital very close to death. His miraculous and full recovery makes every event that we share with him a complete blessing. And of course I always look forward to seeing my wonderful nieces who are 7 and 9. I wasn't thinking much about this being a day for fathers when my mom suggested lunch at our house.
I was running around with my mother picking up food for our lunch. Some stuff to throw on the grill, some salads, and dessert. We picked up three mini cakes that looked delish-one of each kind available. As we were carrying the stuff back to the car my mom noted: "one cake for each of the dads" (my dad, my grandfather and my brother.) Then she said: "I hope the C doesn't feel left out." To which I replied: "He's not a father, he doesn't get one."
I felt so instnatly sad and nauseous. I wish I was able to give him a baby so that he could celebrate this day too. A day that formerly meant not so much to me suddenly is causing me to feel like i have a giant boulder sitting on my chest.

DELURKING

I have a confession to make: I have been lurking around the blogoshere for months now. I'd been reading blogs for a while, but then one day, amidst my pain, thinking about how in the world it will every be possible for me to conceive a baby, I stumbled upon one infertility blog. Which led me to another. And yet another. And many many many more. I couldn't believe it. There were women out there like me! Not like this is a club that I wanted to belong to, but really, this is the only body I have, and so I knew that I was going to have to work with it.
And so my hunting and gathering of reproductive and infertility information began. Until that point I was really relying on what my gynecologist was telling me about. Hello!! That was just not enough for me. And then I found all of you. Some with seemingly similar problems, others with issues I didn't even know could occur. You have let me into your lives, allowed me to read about your ups and downs. You have shown me that wow, it really can happen, we can get pregnant. And also that sadly, scarily, the one thing that I fear most, that possibly some of us can't. You have taught me so much: why I need blood tests, what my levels should be, get thee an ultrasound, and the acronyms-oh my!
Reading about real people has given me the strength to address my personal fears. Layer by layer I am getting to my feelings on what I feel my body is in some way denying me and my husband. And I am learning how to talk to my husband about infertility. My sweet, darling husband (well, most of the time!) who has been talking about a family from the day we met. My husband who really didn't want to believe that infertility could be in store for us (though I have had an inkling about this practically my entire life.) Because of all of you out there, I have the courage to open up tackle our infertility.
I have never commented on any of the blogs I read. I didn’t feel it was right unless I was able to give you somewhere to find out about me, after you have shared so much, so openly. I was also scared that I wouldn’t be taken seriously. “Who is this girl? Why does she think that she belongs in the same category as me?”, I always imagined everyone thinking. Though, comparatively, I know this is the beginning of my journey with infertility, I want to lend my support to those I have been reading. I don’t know how long the road is, and I have been set on this path unwillingly, but I have no choice but to follow it.
So I present you with my blog, a space that has taken me so long and so much courage to create. Somewhere I can chronicle this journey, however long it may be, and somewhere where I hope I can find the support that I am looking for from time to time.
I am delurking. For me and for you.

WHY? BECAUSE.

Because I am looking for support.
Because I want to lend support.
Because I don't want to keep this to myself anymore.
Becasue I know I'm not alone.
Because I you are proof that it can happen.
Becasue I am scared that for me it might not.