In the beginning, there was a girl. A stubborn, stupid girl, who decided at 17 she was old enough to take care of herself. (she was mostly right, but that’s besides the point)
She turned 18, and made the decision to shack up with her boyfriend, instead of spending any more time putting up with her wonderful roommate’s asshole boyfriend. A year and a bit goes by, and POOF guess what??? You thought you were safe- 99.9% effective safe- NOT. You are now one of the .01% who get knocked up on the pill. Congrats.
I’ll skip the expletives that I used when talking to the receptionist on the other side of the phone after getting the positive HPT confirmed by the doctors office. Needless to say, I was CERTAIN that the results were a mistake and there was no way in HELL I could possibly be pregnant.
Fast forward 9-ish months and TADA… perfect baby girl is born. She was the light of my life, and the perfect baby. I could not have been happier- oh wait, yes I could have. I could have had a baby with someone who wasn’t an asshole!! Fast forward 11 months-ish: I’m f’n outta here… Sick and tired of shit and abuse, and at 20, I became a single mom of an infant. By CHOICE. (never said I was particularly smart now, did I)
I got a little smarter when I decided to put myself through nursing at a local college, and felt quite a bit smarter when I got my first job, and was able to be completely self-sufficient and care for my daughter without help from anyone. (except for the occasional babysitting services of grandma&grandpa). And then… he came…
Just when I wasn’t looking, I found my soulmate. I had dated over the years, and I had failed, and had my heart broken, and also made some friends and some really good memories along the way. But I was not looking for love. I didn’t NEED a man. I didn’t even particularly WANT one at that point. I had started thinking about having another baby. ON MY OWN…
And he showed up. And everything changed. And when he told me, that I was going to marry him whether I liked it or not, I knew he was the one for me. He’s the only man in my life who has been able to withstand the big brown puppy dog eyes without resorting to being hurtful. He’s the only man who’s ALWAYS there for me. He loves me for me. And so he is the only man I will ever be married to. And the only man I have ever actually WANTED to give a child to. Of course, life had other plans.
I married the love of my life in October of 2006. After having a surgery to remove pre-cancerous cysts from my cervix in June, we were given the go ahead to “go forth and reproduce”. My OBGYN (doc awesome)was hoping to see me waddling in pregnant at my 6 month post-op. Well, he was in for some disappointment. My 6 month post-op ended up being early, because doc awesome was retiring. And so, instead of a pregnant patient, he got to see a newlywed patient with no period for the last three months. No problem right??? Just wedding stress is all… NOT
Fast forward 1 year, and still nothing happening. Periods come like clockwork – from June till September anyhow. The rest of the year- nothing… Weight gain is consistent. Unless I try to LOSE some. And believe me, I tried it all. Joined a gym, worked out religiously- gained 20lbs and a pants size. Herbal M @ gic- gained another 15… No matter what was tried, NOTHING worked. And then the “it’s because you’re overweight” excuses began. Not ONE doctor seen in TWO YEARS could admit that my fucked up uterine activity could be attributed to ANYTHING but my weight. NEVERMIND that the hormonal imbalance that was causing my periods to disappear WAS the thing that was CAUSING my weight to increase. I let it ride- hubby’s SA came back with a slightly low count. Great motility etc… just slightly low. Apparently not low enough that the urologist even thought it was worth his time really.
So the search was on. I was getting desperate. My family doctor was becoming more and more useless. After a devastating possible chemical pregnancy that he refused to even diagnose (I had to inform hubby over the PHONE while bawling IN the doctors’ office because he was half way across the country), and the most painful, violating pap smear of my entire life, I refused to set foot in that office again. And wrote a letter of complaint to the clinic. I had already had bloodwork taken to investigate the possibility of something being wrong, and was told, once again, that it was my weight, and that my hormone levels were all “perfect”.
In May 2008, I found my saviour. Doc T was seen as a last-ditch effort through a walk-in clinic to get a referral to a fertility specialist. He listened, he cared, and he IMMEDIATELY referred me for a CT scan. He also sent an immediate referral to the fertility doctor who I requested. CT showed ovaries consitent with PCOS… bloodwork- CONSISTENT WITH PCOS. I had my diagnosis. And I had new hope. My second wedding anniversary, I spent a good portion of the day in the fertility clinic 2 hours away from home… Tests were ordered, and I was made to feel like a moron. The fertility doctor turned out to be a dick. But he KNOWS infertility. He prescribed me a loverly cocktail of hellishness that had me *tmi alert* puking, peeing, and shitting through the eye of a needle. It was awful. (and yet, I know it could actually get worse… MUCH worse). While going through this, there was always an underlying fear that it wouldn’t work. That I was destined to leave my husband without a bio-child of his own.
And apparently, after only one month of this, whatever entity it is that decides these things, decided that I had paid my dues, and I FINALLY was able to say to my husband, with tears in my eyes, that I wouldn’t be getting a period for nine months. But THIS time, it was because we were pregnant.