Tuesday, June 20, 2006


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.


ChicagoGirl said...

Thank you for sharing your story and for your kind post on my blog. It's a tough road to go alone and I'm thrilled to have found you to share the journey with.

Jennie said...

I think I want to say the exact same thing as chicagogirl just said in your comments, but saying "ditto" would probably be rude .

I'm looking forward to hearing more from you also. I wish we could all be blogging about our beautiful babies instead of infertility, but hopefully someday....

Angie said...

Thank you for sharing your story. I stumbled over here from another blog (which is very easy to do). I look forward to reading more. I hope you find blogland a place to vent, laugh, and find friends. I surely have!