Enough Already!

WARNING: This blog may contain curse words, typos, and heavy emotions not suitable for the faint of heart. 

I have never, not once, left the fertility clinic without being completely discouraged. Oh sure, there’s always silver lining if you look for it, but after three years, and a SERIES of disappointments, I’ve lost my inner Polyanna. In fact, fuck you, Polyanna.

It’s my southern upbringing and natural tendency towards being optimistic that continues to cause me to fall flat on my face EVERY time. If I could just stay “Debbie Downer” then it wouldn’t hurt so bad when things go wrong.

Every time I go to the doctor they have to verbally review my chart with me, “History of ovarian cysts, irregular ovulatory patterns, history of uterine septum, history of stage 1 endometriosis, 3 cycles clomid x1, no result, 3 cycles clomid x3, no result, 3 cycles femara, no result, 3 cycles femara with injectables, no result, two failed IUIs with injectables, one chemical pregnancy resulting in loss…”

Well, what a fun trip down memory lane! Next time, I’ll pack a picnic!

Then, yesterday my nurse called me to confirm my day 3 sonogram  and I told her I’d really like to do the injectables this month with two IUIs (increasing my chances of pregnancy up to 50%), but I told her I could only do the injectables if there were any donated ones that I could have since they cost $1300-1500 each cycle. There were! She found some! There finally was a pack of meds and she set them aside for me.

“This is it!”, I told myself. I was pumped. I went in to the office today ready to walk out with my free meds and start a new cycle and finally have a real shot at meeting my baby. But, to quote The Little Rascals movie, “Then the clouds opened up and God said, ‘I hate you Alfalfa!'”

The right side of my ovaries looked great, but, for the first time in over a year, my left side showed two cysts. So…it’s not safe to do the injectables. Not only do I not get to use the meds, but I get the pleasure of passing on the donation to someone else. Call me selfish, but it’s my fucking turn! I know I should try to feel great about somebody else getting these meds, but I just can’t see it that way yet. Enough already, it’s my turn.

Why not me? Why can’t something in this area of my life just work out? What’s the point of continuous let downs and disappointments?

When I thought my HSG was all clear I woke up to find I had endometriosis.

When I thought my septum was mild I woke up to find out it was super severe and they had to put in a uterine balloon and I was literally in labor for two weeks trying to “deliver” it. Freaky, right?

When I think I’m the lucky one who gets to go home with $1300 worth of donated meds, I find out I have cysts and aren’t eligible. 

Enough already! 

one of three scars from surgeries

So, I’ll do femara (lame ass pills) this month with only one IUI which gives me a 15% chance of a successful pregnancy aka I have a shot in hell and I get to waste another month. I’ll get bloated, hungry, exhausted and cranky with no positive end result.

Or, maybe after a few days of being negative my southern self will pull through, I’ll channel my inner Polyanna and find some way to be positive again. Ugh, happy people live longer anyway, right? : )

Welcome to the Infertility Party

I consider myself a bit of a veteran in the infertile world and I’ve found that only humor, faith, and a kick ass group of friends can help you navigate it without losing your mind entirely. This post is dedicated to the newbies wondering how they’ll make it out alive.

HUMOR 

I was post anesthesia

1. The fertility center is a “fork in the road” (emotionally) EVERY single time you walk in the door, whether it’s the first time or the last time. You can choose to break down, because you despise the fact that you’re there, or you can smile, laugh, and find the humor in each awkward situation. I remember one day being spread eagle in the stirrups, my lady parts exposed, and a tech intern (who looked 12 years old & very uncomfortable) walked in. I awkwardly found a way to meet her eyes and said, “Welcome to the party!” She laughed, but more importanly, so did I! Humor helps.

2. I used to hate getting sonograms because for awhile there EVERY single one was bad news. I’d leave in tears, call my mom, consider driving off the 360 bridge, and go home to curl up in fetal position and watch bad daytime TV. So, one day I asked my husband to go with me. When he saw the 2 foot long vaginal wand next to the computer screen his eyes got huge and he asked, “Where does that go?”. I laughed and said, “I’ll give you one guess”. He said, “Chels, I beg you…when the nurse goes to insert that, lift your ass off the table and yelp, ‘Whoa, wrong hole!'” Ha ha ha ha ha! Well, I didn’t have the balls to pull that off, but I did giggle through the whole exam.

3. Our first IUI was extremely stressful. The doctors & nurses gave us ZERO instructions regarding the process and we had no idea what to expect. All we knew is they’d take our “sample” (aka sperm), spin it in a machine to whip the lil guys into action, and then insert the juice via a catheter. Well, I made a playlist for our first IUI and included songs like, “Whip It”, “Spin Me Round”, and “Whip My Hair” to make us smile.

FAITH

1. It can be hard to keep the faith when you experience a disappointment every 28 days. When you were a teenager, your period meant you couldn’t wear your fave white shorts to the party Friday night, but as an infertile adult, every period is like being punched in the gut and hearing God laugh, “Ha ha ha, not this time!” I had to stop looking at God as the evil one reframe my thinking to remind myself that it was not Him doing this to me. God was the one in charge of the process as my protector and provider. Only He can decide when the time is right for your baby to be born. It’s your job to take the tests, swallow the pills, follow the schedules, but ultimately He is still in charge.

2. I also went through a period of wondering if using infertility treatments meant I was playing God. Was I creating a “synthetic baby” as portrayed in the media? My baby sister, Skyler, said “Science only goes so far. God decides if life gets created”. She was right. The medicine may assist you in the process, but life does not form inside you without God’s consent.

3. My one and only pregnancy resulted in a miscarriage after 6-8 weeks (estimated gestation). The grief experienced there is a whole other level (and another blog post), but it nearly killed me. I was PISSED at God before I decided that maybe this was God’s way of saying, “Don’t give up. It’s still not time for your baby, but here’s a glimmer of hope that this is possible for you one day”.

Kick Ass Friends

The day I found out I was pregnant…before the loss

1. My girlfriends and their husbands have been amazeballs! They’ve been an ear to hear me, a shoulder to cry on, and bartenders when I needed a cocktail or a glass of wine.

2. They have NEVER tried to give me unsolicited advice or tell me what they think I should do…not once, which is awesome! I get so sick of people telling me, “use this oil”, “drink this tea”, “gain weight”, “stop running”, “don’t stress”….AHHHHHHHH!

3. They also gladly engage in my monthly, “I’m Not Pregnant Party,” which is how I avoid the 28 day mental breakdown. Instead of falling apart, I’d try to focus on what I could do since I wasn’t pregnant at the end/beginning of each cycle. I’d go for a run, eat sushi, and drink martinis.

PS: Don’t let the posts in the media about the 65 year old mom of multiples or the she-man who got pregnant discourage you…those should be signs that the science is strong. If those peops can get preggers, so can you. It may just take awhile. Keep heart.

A Baby Will Not “Complete” Me

Take these pills, give yourself this shot, make this smoothie, drink lemon water, schedule your sonograms, go to the specialty pharmacy, pay the medical bills, slow down your exercise, eat salmon and avocado, increase your fluids, jump, sit, beg, bark, roll over…

Raise your hand if you know this feeling. Fertility treatments are extremely time sensitive; something few people can understand. Fertiles will say, “Just relax, don’t let it consume you”, but it’s completely impossible to relax when you’re given a chart and a packet full of instructions every month broken down by day and hour. This can take a toll on your life, but also your friendships, your faith and especially your marriage.

I’m a Christian, but I totally forgot what that means until a complete meltown last week. I was still trying to find my footing after my recent pregnancy loss and was crying (bawling uncontrollably) to my dad. I was really struggling with envy, anger, and self-loathing while watching both of my sister’s happiness, the oldest with her toddler and infant boy, the youngest pregnant with her first, and wondering why this hadn’t happened for me.

My little sister and I got pregnant at the EXACT same time! Why did she get to keep her baby and not me. I felt my baby was a boy and yet she’s having a boy? Why not me? Why? Why? Why? As I tried desperately to find answers I realized that “why” is a seriously dangerous word that can pull you straight down the rabbit hole. God does not answer “why”.

After peeling me off the bathroom floor after what felt like an eternity, my father and big sister encouraged me to reevaluate where my focus was. Even though it’s damn near impossible NOT to focus on a baby when you’re entire life revolves around your fertility treatments, I remembered this verse:

1John 2:15-16 “Do not love the world, nor the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father, but is from the world”.

I have allowed my focus to shift from the cross to what’s in the world, or more accurately, what’s NOT in my world. I cannot allow my want for a child to be what defines me, complete me, or gives my life purpose. Yes, I want a baby more than anything else in the entire world, but if I never become a mother, my life still has value. I’m a wife, a sister, a friend, a stepmom, a counselor, and a badass aunt!

Do I want to watch my child in their school play? Yes! But I can cheer on my friend’s daughter in her dance recital, too. Do I want to show my children the wonders of the world? Yes, but I can travel with my nieces and nephews, too. Do I want to raise servants of the Lord? Yes, but I can also model a servant’s heart for the children I serve as a counselor, too.

I want a baby because I desire to see my love for my husband incarnate, because I think it’s our duty as Christians to “fill” the kingdom, and because I was loved so well as a child that I want to pass that love on to my child. I want a baby, but I’m not incomplete without one either. 

The ABCs of Femara

Well, my 90 day break from the fertility suckage is almost over. Although the calm and serenity I was seeking was very rudely interrupted by a pregnancy and loss, I still think taking a break was the best thing for myself, my marriage, and my overall health.

My miracle worker, Dr. Silverburg, suggested I go back in injections with IUI, but…I’m thinking not. I mean, we’ve never tried anything since my septum removal and if that was one of the major obstacles, why go straight back to injections, the “big guns” without trying the lil things first? Injections were often overstimulating, they hurt like a bitch, they cost more than a new couch (which we need desperately I might add), and I hate carrying around a cooler everyday! So…femara it is.

I have a very, “let’s be real” approach to fertility because, let’s be real, if you’re going through it, there’s a moment each month (or each day) where playing in traffic seems like an awesome lunch break idea. So, here’s the ABC’s of Femara, for those of you taking this lovely pill.

Femara ABCs:

A is for appetite, which increases rapidly beyond cotrol.

B is for bloating beyond buttons on jeans

C is for cravings (today I wanted a donut sandwich).

D is for Don’t. Don’t drink, don’t run, don’t miss a pill, don’t do zumba, don’t…

E is for enlarged ovaries are at risk for twisting (Ouch!)

F is for the four letter word that all infertiles know well

G is for gonal is $1300, but Femara is only $12…winning!

H is for headaches. Feeling as though a midget is sawing my skull in half has become normal.

I is for injections suck, so let’s try pills

J is for jumping can also make your ovaries twist when you’re on femara

K is for the knot you tied with the person you love. Hold on tight to it.

L is for love. You’ve got to remember that you’re doing this to create a lil chunk o’ love.

M is for maniac. Anytime you’re taking hormones, there’s a good chance your alterego can take over and you start to resemble Charles Manson.

N is for nuisance. Be prepared for everything to annoy you on femara so take them at night to reduce the impulse to kill others.

O is for ovidril that releases the follicles when they’re ready. This is “go time”

P is for the pills you pat in your purse all day everyday to make sure you haven’t lost them somehow

Ironic this photo credit goes to “Conceive Easy”

Q is for umm…Q is for? Anyone? Bueller?

R is for rest, relax, recoop.

S is for sleep is a pipedream. I can never sleep well on femara.

T is for twins are likely! Whoop whoop!

U is for ultrasound, the critical moment when you find out the follicles size, readiness, and number that will be released

V is for the violins playing in the background when you finally break down

W is for wait two weeks after the pills are over to find out if they “worked”.

X is for XX…or

Y is for … XY, neither matters to me as long as he/shes healthy

Z is for zis is almost zee end of zee road. Zay ztrong and zour bambino will be here zoon.

I’d be lying if I said I’m always able to find the humor in this situation or that I have a lighthearted approach to the struggle. The struggle is real. It sucks. It’s hard. It’s isolating and nobody gets it, but us. However, it does help me keep my head together to make a few jokes about it every now and again and laugh at the suck.

Love Me Like You Do: A Prayer

On Valentine’s Day I woke up feeling super “wonky” (there’s no better word) and extremely tired. In fact, I’d been feeling abnormally tired for a few weeks, but I thought it was a result of my overly packed schedule. Turns out, I was pregnant. My first pregnancy ever…five days later, I got the phone call that I had an impending miscarriage and that the pregnancy would disappear within a week. 

I can’t even begin to describe the grief that followed, and still follows. The night of that phone call I met some friends for a movie hoping the distraction would do me good. We saw 50 Shades of Grey and although the song on the soundtrack by Ellie Goulding is likely meant to be a love song, it held different meaning for me that night as the only thing I could think about was the baby in my body that was slowly, but surely, disappearing.

To the baby I lost, the baby I loved, and the baby I still dream of meeting, I sing…

You’re the light, you’re the night
You’re the color of my blood
You’re the cure, you’re the pain
You’re the only thing I wanna touch
Never knew that it could mean so much, so much

You’re the fear, I don’t care
Cause I’ve never been so high
Follow me through the dark
Let me take you past our satellites
You can see the world you brought to life, to life

To my Lord, who I’m often angry at and confused by, I sing this prayer…

So love me like you do, love me like you do
Love me like you do, love me like you do
Touch me like you do, touch me like you do
What are you waiting for?!

Knowing that I was losing the only thing that’s made me sublimely happy in three years I felt I was…

Fading in, fading out
On the edge of paradise
Every inch of your skin is a holy grail I’ve got to find
Only you can set my heart on fire, on fire

And to my Lord again…

Yeah, I’ll let you set the pace
Cause I’m not thinking straight
My head spinning around I can’t see clear no more
What are you waiting for?!

Love me like you do, love me like you do
Love me like you do, love me like you do
Touch me like you do, touch me like you do
What are you waiting for?!

The pain of losing a baby is unmatched by anything I’ve felt before, but I can’t be angry anymore…it’s too toxic. The only way I can find the strength to go on trying and the peace I need for my sanity is to view this pregnancy as a “rainbow” from God. The skies opened up and he said, “Hey you, don’t give up yet. I’m giving you a glimmer of how great things will be one day, but it’s not time yet. Hold on tight, babygirl. Your baby is still coming”

Lord, love me like you do. Touch me like you have touched others and make me a mama. 

 

 

 

Source: http://www.directlyrics.com/ellie-goulding-love-me-like-you-do-lyrics.html

Fertility Smoothie

After a year of trying to get pregnant with no success, you see a doctor. After two years, you see a fertility specialist. After three years, you’ve created an entourage of specialists AND you eat and drink things most people have never heard of. I give you…

The Fertilty Smoothie

Photo credit: WeareLivingalive.com

My “smoothie” of specialists currently includes an Ob/Gyn, a fertility specialist, an acupuncturist, a holistic healer, a naturopath pharmacist, an abdominal masseuse, my friends Ashley and Kristy, and Katy Perry (don’t judge, her jams are very motivational!).

I’m also talking about the smoothie I drink daily to boost my chances. Now, drinking this does not replace my docs or my meds, but it does optimize my chances by pumping full of nature’s goodness and creating healthy eggs ready to become babies.

Ingredients:

• Maca Powder
• Goji berries or berry powder
• Berries (blue, black, or rasp)
• Cherries (natural, not marachino)
• Almond or coconut milk
• Wheatgrass or chlorophyll tabs
• Sugar free, organic protein powder
• Royal jelly

Maca is known as the “wonder herb” for fertility. It is an endocrine system tonic, it increases energy, reduces stress, fights against disease, and encourages healthy hormonal balance.

Goji berries increase libido, which could be beneficial, but are mainly recommended for men with low or slow sperm count. I don’t add goji to mine but it is suggested.

Berries are antioxidants, which are powerful in boosting fertility, plus they’re naturally sweet, inexpensive, and can vary up the flavor of your soothie.

Cherries are also antioxidants, but they’re the super fruit because they also contain beta carotene, vitamin C, potassium, magnesium, iron, fiber and folate. I’ve been told I “look” internally like someone with PCOS (polycystic overian syndrome) event though I’ve not been diagnosed and cheries have a natural anti-inflammatory property.

My acupuncturist says to stear clear of dairy so I use almond or coconut milk instead. Coconut milk has high detoxifying properties which is an added bonus.

Wheatgrass helps to detoxify, balance Ph levels, increases oxygen, it’s loaded with folic acid and is considered a “complete food” due to it’s level of vitamins and minerals. Whole Foods sells wheatgrass shots in their frozen section that can thaw out under hot water or you can buy wheatgrass powder and add it to your smoothie.

Protein powder because…you’re making human life! You need protein. Plus, it bulks it up and makes it thicker.

Royal Jelly: this one I saved for last because this is THE most crucial ingredient. This supports hormonal balance, supports a healthy endocrine system, increases egg quality naturally, encourages healthy estrogen levels and is considered the fertility superfood. A jar of this schmazz costs about $30; however, it only takes 1/4 tsp each serving and will last 3-6 months.

So, there you have it. Enjoy my nasty hodge-podge of fertility superfoods. You may find yourself sipping it and loving it. I, on the other hand, find myself chugging it. It can be used as a meal replacement if you’re looking to decrease your weight to increase fertility, or it can be used as a snack if you’re increasing your weight to increase fertility. Talk to your doctor about a healthy weight for you to concieve.

Other super foods for fertility include:

• Lean meats
• Fatty, low mercury fish
• Dark, leafy greens (kale, chard, spinach)
• Herbs: chives, parsley, basil, mint
• Tumeric, cinnamon
• Kiwi, bananas, berries
• Tomatoes
• Yams, sweet potatoes. butterbut squash

Oh, and water isn’t even drank the same way to an infertile. I infuse my water with lemon, mint, cucumber, and basil overnight. Drink 10-12 glasses a day to keep flushing your system.

Good luck, happy sipping!

I Can’t Even Buy a Baby

For those of you who have been following my journey towards motherhood for the last three years, (holy shit, it’s been three years?!) I am here to sadly report- it’s over. I can’t even buy a baby. 

Here’s the recap:

April 2012: We started trying

Sept 2012: I knew innately something was wrong

Jan 2013: Saw an advanced fertility specialist in Houston who took about 3 gallons of blood and then told me I was fertile and sent me on my way ($200)

April & May 2013: Clomid

June & July 2013: Double clomid

August & September: Triple the clomid

Referred to the “big dogs”, Austin Fertility Center

Each doctor visit (2-3 month)= $250, each ultrasound= $250 (2-3 per month), Ovidril= $140, Pills= $120, Injections=$440, IUI= $700 Blood Work= $80-120

Each month’s total= $2,400-$2,700 a month

October 2013: HSG ($1000)

2013/2014 total: an estimated $33,600

Nov 2013-April 2014: Femara, FSH Injections, several failed IUI

May 2014: Laparoscopy to remove endometriosis

June/July 2014 2 more failed cycles of femara, injections, and IUIs

August 2014: Almost died from heartbreak

Sept 2014: Switched to Texas Fertility Center $650

October 2014: uterine septum removal and uterine reconstruction $2,000

I spent November & December healing physically and emotionally to prepare for a new doctor, new meds, new hope in January only to find out that I have to triple my dosage of meds, meaning triple the price. The quote from the specialty pharmacy was $1300.

$364 a month for Blue Cross Blue Shield GOLD PPO that doesn’t cover ANYTHING concerning fertility except the $650 doctor visits (although that helps)

$1300 for medicines to bring my chances of having a family from 0.5% to 15-20%

$400-500 for each IUI at this center

Monthly total: $2,064

I have depleted all of my resources in the last three years. I work 3-4 nights a week from 10pm-6am only to cover the costs of debt accrued in previous years. I literally have nothing left; therefore, my journey has ended. Because my husband makes “too much money” to qualify for financial assistance, our chances of having a baby together are nill. Zip. Zero. He makes money to provide for our family: cars, house, gas, food, LIFE. Does anyone have $2200-2500 a month jut lying around that they can throw out the window every month for 3 years?! We sure didn’t.

And, to add insult to injury, I had to quit teaching because I couldn’t manage a full time job AND full time infertility treatment.Currently, my main source of income is my e-commerce site, shopwholeheart.com, but let’s face it, people would rather shop on amazon where they can get free shipping than support a small business like mine where the person’s livelihood solely depends on the success of the site.

I have written this post in hopes that something will change. Shop small businesses and support the person behind them. Petition for change within the insurance companies. Speak up against the injustices. My only prayer know is for a miracle.

I’m out. Finished. Finito.

Grown Up Christmas List

When I was a kid I wanted the Nina Camping Barbie (with matching camper) SO badly! I begged my mom and dad, I begged Santa, and I told everyone I knew how badly I wanted this. I even snuck into my parent’s closet (where toys were often hid) to search for Nina. My sister worried I’d be spoiling Christmas, but I thought if I found her, I could rest easy. Do you remember wanting anything that badly?

My “Nina” came with a camper, too!

Now, my Christmas list looks a bit different, but the ache for what’s on it hasn’t changed. I still ache for these things and tell everyone in my life how badly I want them in hopes that my wishes will be granted.

Dear Santa, this Christmas I want…

1. My nephew to be born this week, healthy and strong

2. My student loans and credit card debt to be forgiven

3. My best friend to be able to eat without worrying how her stomach will react and for an angel to heal her ulcers and hurts

4. My stepson to discover something he can be passionate about

5. My brother-in-law to be accepted into the Game Warden Academy

6. A president who respects the constitution, values character over skin color, and doesn’t have a hidden agenda

7. Schools that inspire learning and teach students how to be thinkers and creators

8. A car that doesn’t smell like it’s about to catch fire and grunt at me while I drive it

9. A society that takes a stand against the media and boycotts trash on tv, in music, and in games

10. For infertility treatments to be covered by insurance companies and to hear those magical words from my doctors, “You’re pregnant!”

Ny nephew, Zade

As Christmas nears closer each year, we tell our kids if they were “good” this year then Santa will bring them gifts and treats. The only problem with this is that as an adults we start to wonder if we’ve been bad and that’s why we’re not getting what we want. I think to myself, “I’m going to be really, really good this month and maybe things will work”, but then when they don’t, I think it’s something I’ve done wrong.

No matter what I do, I can’t make a baby. No amount of caroling, gingerbread house making, ornament hanging, or letters to Santa will put a baby under the tree for me.

We all know Santa has helpers, right? Well, perhaps Dr. Silverberg is one of Santa’s helpers. Maybe Texas Fertility Center is one of his toyshops and perhaps tomorrow when I go in for my consult they’ll see just how badly I want this and they’ll know how good I’ve been this year and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get it next year.

Wait…I Have a What?!

Today at my workout class the receptionist thanked me for being “so brave” by blogging about my fertility journey. It caught me off guard only because I often forget how public my story is and I forget people know my face and connect me with infertility.

I took a few months break from blogging about my journey because, quite literally, there was either nothing to blog about, or it was far too painful to put into words. Since my last surgery I’ve done 3 cycles of treatments (shots, pills, charting, blah blah blah), including two unsuccessful IUIs. Yep, bummer.

The last round with my previous fertility center was a bit rough (to say the least):

• First, I called to let them know there were 3 pills per day in my prescription, rather than 2 pills a day like I’d been taking. The response from the PA was, “Take 2 or 3, or whatever you’re comfortable with.” Um, I’m not comfortable with that response!
• Then, I called my doctor to tell him I was upset with that approach and he went over the plans for the cycle with me and I realized I’d also not been made aware of the fact that my injections were changing this cycle, too.
• Lastly, I went in for my IUI ($600 a pop) and found out the PA would be the one doing the procedure, not my doctor! I have nothing against PAs, but I think I’m WAY past having a PA. I should be considered a VIP in the office, given my history, not passed on to a PA.

After that IUI failed (shocker), the PA calls to tell me I should start thinking about ISO/IVF, which is the final and last possible option for a fertility patient, skipping over more IUIs, changing meds, a few rounds of IVF, etc. This sent me into a tailspin of self-loathing, depression, guilt, blame…you name it, I felt it. I decided it was time for a change!

I took my charts, films, scans, labs, and the rest of my fabulous autobiography to Texas Fertility Center, where 7 of my dear friends have experienced success. I’d be lying if I said I did not have an absolute panic attack in this office. I was used to being known at my doctor’s office. They knew my name, my chart, my story, etc. Now, here I was at square 1, unfamiliar with anything or anyone. The waiting room was cold, packed, and busy. My palms were sweating, my heart was racing, and I literally felt like I was going to start climbing the walls to safety if I didn’t see the doctor soon. Thank heavens for the support of my friends via text messages.

So, after almost 30 months of trying to conceive unsuccessfully, 1 surgery, 400 scans, countless cycles of meds, tens of thousands of dollars down the drain, and an emotional rollercoaster so unbelievably dizzying, I find out on day 1 with the new doctor that I have a uterine septum. Wait…I have a what?! A uterine septum? How is this just NOW being discovered?! You’re telling me that this should have (and could have) been seen during my HSG in October 2013? You mean this should have (and could have) been fixed during my laproscopy in May? What?!

uterine septum

Yep. It was confirmed, not only by my new doctor, but also by 3 other specialists in his practice. I was livid! Pissed! Hurt! Discouraged! Outraged! And seriously confused! How has this not been seen already?! Just now I’m finding out there’s a septum, easily removed by a day surgery, that has been preventing any fertilized follicles from attaching and resulting in a pregnancy?! Apparently, the top of my uterus is like an inverted rook, and although mine is very mild, it is there. My poor fertilized babies have been trying to find a safe spot in their mama and attach to me and they can’t because of the damn dam in their way! How does one recover from this discovery so late in the game?! Ugh!!!

Part of me wanted to throw my hands in the air and scream, “That’s it! I quit!” But, what would that help? What would quitting now do for me? How much more anger and resentment would fester inside me if I allowed this setback to stop me from growing my family?

 

 

So, I did what any normal Texas girl would do. I draped myself in my best Kendra Scott pieces, put on my Lucchesse boots, and went to a wine fest! I drank wine, I ate what I wanted, I laughed with friends, and I pretended like having a baby was the last thing on my mind. But, like always, it’s never not on my mind. I want a family. I want to be a mom. I want to experience every heartache and joy that motherhood brings.

I’ve scheduled the surgery to have the septum removed October 10th. I’ll have to take some more time off from treatments again and be put on birth control, but then, I’m gonna keep on truckin’!

Got any words of encouragement?