So, starting today.. I'm taking the max doseage of Clomid (150mg); three times what I took before. And I had terrible side effects (rash, night sweats) before.. so this should be interesting.
I also just spoke with the office manager at my specialist's office. She informed me, that unfortunately, insurance will not be covering the cost of the ultrasound. So I have to pay $211 out of pocket, in full, on the day of the test (which is less than two weeks away). For those keeping track.. that means for the minimal treatment, and cheapest treatment, it's about $335 per month. And again, that's for the option that gives us the least chance for success.
What this tells me, is that we can't feasibly try this for more than a couple months; and there's really no way we can take it to the next (more expensive and invasive) level. Obviously, the idea of giving up is a real downer. But I feel like we won't have any choice. The doctor doesn't even do payment plans, so everything has to be paid in full before treatment or testing is provided. There's just no way...
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Friday, December 23, 2011
Words That Sting
I had no idea what to say. It felt like someone just punched me in my ribcage. I could barely breathe, and I wanted to burst into tears. All because somebody, that I didn't know, asked me if I was pregnant.
They had overheard me telling someone that my stomach hurts, and they just blurted out, "Well, are you pregnant?" Is stomach pain really the first symptom? I found it hard to accept that pregnancy was the first thing that came to this person's mind in reference to a stomach-ache. And all I could muster back to her question was, "No." Not a jokey, "Oh heck, no!" or "No" with a chuckle. Just "No." I wondered if she even noticed how seriously in which I answered. It was definitely not how most people answer in casual conversation.
But the truth is, I wanted to go hide. I knew that the stomach pain was probably from the fertility meds.. but I couldn't explain that. Nor would this stranger want such an over-explanation. So, I just sat there.. quiet and hurt.
Sure, it's always unintentional. And usually, it pops up and hits you when you least expect it. But this wasn't the first time that somebody's words have left a sting.
It's always hard when someone asks us, "So, when are YOU guys going to have kids?" Ugh. If they only knew what I meant when I said, "Oh, well we're trying."
Next up, like the first example, are the folks that overhear a few symptoms that are usually from the meds themselves, and ask, "Are you pregnant?" Nope. Thanks for your interest. Here's my tip for people. Never casually ask someone if they're pregnant unless you're 100% sure they aren't and you're joking, and/or you know they aren't trying.
And the last one, that actually gets under my skin the most, is "If it's meant to be, it'll be." Seriously? Somebody is pissing rainbows. I hate this phrase. First, I don't believe in fate; as if everything is pre-determined. I believe you have to make things happen for yourself. Imagine where our world would be if people literally just believed that whatever was supposed to happen, would happen? Nobody would go to a doctor. "If I die, I was meant to." Nobody would go to school. "If I'm meant to have a great job, it'll just happen." Life definitely doesn't work that way. And throwing that phrase at people trying to get pregnant is about as useful as when it's told to people who are going through a rough patch in their relationship. It's not a destiny thing. It's something you work through, or you don't.
Secondly, "If it's meant to be, it'll be." actually implies that if we don't have kids, it wasn't meant to be. As if the universe has decided I just don't deserve to be a mother. Is that really supposed to make me feel better? And the truth is, maybe IVF would get us pregnant, but if I choose not to take it that far.. that means I chose it. Not that we weren't "meant to" have children.
Let me say here, though, that I get it when people are trying to be uplifting and hopeful. Or trying to get me to not worry about it. Just understand that when people are actively trying; seeing doctors and taking meds.. we have no choice but to think about it daily.. if not hourly. And the words you think are helping, just aren't. No matter how well intentioned, they kind of feel like a slap in the face.
They had overheard me telling someone that my stomach hurts, and they just blurted out, "Well, are you pregnant?" Is stomach pain really the first symptom? I found it hard to accept that pregnancy was the first thing that came to this person's mind in reference to a stomach-ache. And all I could muster back to her question was, "No." Not a jokey, "Oh heck, no!" or "No" with a chuckle. Just "No." I wondered if she even noticed how seriously in which I answered. It was definitely not how most people answer in casual conversation.
But the truth is, I wanted to go hide. I knew that the stomach pain was probably from the fertility meds.. but I couldn't explain that. Nor would this stranger want such an over-explanation. So, I just sat there.. quiet and hurt.
Sure, it's always unintentional. And usually, it pops up and hits you when you least expect it. But this wasn't the first time that somebody's words have left a sting.
It's always hard when someone asks us, "So, when are YOU guys going to have kids?" Ugh. If they only knew what I meant when I said, "Oh, well we're trying."
Next up, like the first example, are the folks that overhear a few symptoms that are usually from the meds themselves, and ask, "Are you pregnant?" Nope. Thanks for your interest. Here's my tip for people. Never casually ask someone if they're pregnant unless you're 100% sure they aren't and you're joking, and/or you know they aren't trying.
And the last one, that actually gets under my skin the most, is "If it's meant to be, it'll be." Seriously? Somebody is pissing rainbows. I hate this phrase. First, I don't believe in fate; as if everything is pre-determined. I believe you have to make things happen for yourself. Imagine where our world would be if people literally just believed that whatever was supposed to happen, would happen? Nobody would go to a doctor. "If I die, I was meant to." Nobody would go to school. "If I'm meant to have a great job, it'll just happen." Life definitely doesn't work that way. And throwing that phrase at people trying to get pregnant is about as useful as when it's told to people who are going through a rough patch in their relationship. It's not a destiny thing. It's something you work through, or you don't.
Secondly, "If it's meant to be, it'll be." actually implies that if we don't have kids, it wasn't meant to be. As if the universe has decided I just don't deserve to be a mother. Is that really supposed to make me feel better? And the truth is, maybe IVF would get us pregnant, but if I choose not to take it that far.. that means I chose it. Not that we weren't "meant to" have children.
Let me say here, though, that I get it when people are trying to be uplifting and hopeful. Or trying to get me to not worry about it. Just understand that when people are actively trying; seeing doctors and taking meds.. we have no choice but to think about it daily.. if not hourly. And the words you think are helping, just aren't. No matter how well intentioned, they kind of feel like a slap in the face.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Medications & Money
So, today, since I was off work.. I had time to call the 'recommended' mail-order pharmacy to get my meds for this cycle. According to the doctor, since they are a "specialized" pharmacy, they tend to be cheaper. They're called Freedom Fertility Pharmacy.
I only needed two medications. One is the Clomid. The other is the shot I have to take if the Clomid works, called Ovidrel. No surprise, insurance won't pay for either. They gave me the generic Clomid, but apparently Ovidrel has no generic counterpart. My out-of-pocket, for those two medications (that I'll take for a total of 6 days) is...
$120.35
Bleh.
Yeah, I know it's hardly earth-shattering.. and pales in comparison to the 15k needed for IVF. But still, it's a good chunk of a paycheck; especially around the holidays. Not to mention, we'll have to pay for an ultrasound for each attempt. Fingers crossed that this works.. because my brain and my wallet may not be up for anything more drastic.
I only needed two medications. One is the Clomid. The other is the shot I have to take if the Clomid works, called Ovidrel. No surprise, insurance won't pay for either. They gave me the generic Clomid, but apparently Ovidrel has no generic counterpart. My out-of-pocket, for those two medications (that I'll take for a total of 6 days) is...
$120.35
Bleh.
Yeah, I know it's hardly earth-shattering.. and pales in comparison to the 15k needed for IVF. But still, it's a good chunk of a paycheck; especially around the holidays. Not to mention, we'll have to pay for an ultrasound for each attempt. Fingers crossed that this works.. because my brain and my wallet may not be up for anything more drastic.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Hey (Special) Doc
So, after a fun weekend of celebrating our one year anniversary, I was off to the reproductive endocrinologist..
First, props to my husband for taking time off of work to go with me.. though he only ended up answering one question for the doctor; which was, "Do you have any other kids?" (after I had stated I hadn't had any). Luckily, his answer was "no." If it had been "I don't think so." our appointment would have gone very differently. ;-)
Anywho, as soon as I walk into the waiting room, I see a few couples (one of whom was clearly knocked up), and a couple women sitting alone. Half of one of the couples happens to be a teller for the bank I go to for work; at least a few times a week. Ugh. What are the odds? Then later, I find out that one of the men went to school with my hubby. Definitely a small world.
About 40 minutes after we arrive, I get called. We walk back into a very nondescript office. Two barren desks, and a bookshelf with literally nothing on it. No books. No knick-knacks. Clearly, this is the floating office for visiting doctors.
The Doc comes in and shakes my hand. Takes a few moments asking all the usual questions: How long have you been trying? How old are you? What have you tried?
I tell him that my current OB/GYN had me try Clomid at the lowest dose, but was concerned about putting me on higher doseages due to possibly overstimulating the ovaries. Well, this doc clearly did not have that same concern.. as he immediately prescribed that I try the maximum doseage (3 times what I was on). He informs me, "Oh, and with this doseage, you may have some hot flashes and mood swings." Bad news, Doc. I had those side effects on the lowest doseage. So, this should be fun. (my poor husband)
Doc proceeds to inform me that "we do Clomid a little different here." Oh? Do tell. For that, he sends in his nurse, with packets of information. She tells me how we'll induce the cycle (like normal), then I'll take Clomid (like normal), but then instead of a blood test, I'll come in earlier for an ultrasound of my ovaries. Hmm.. Okay. And then, if it looks like I have a follicle ready, then it's injection time.
Ummmm.. what?
Yeah, injections. Fantastic. What's worse? It's the DIY of injections. The kind of injection they expect your husband to give you.. fresh out of the refridgerator, where you store it by the butter. Bleeeeeeeeh. Not sure I'm up for that part. I'm clearly going to have mixed feelings when it's time for the ultrasound.. hoping I have a follicle.. but wishing I didn't need any injections.
Then, lastly, they say.. "Oh. Let's go ahead and do some bloodwork while you're here." Hooray! Always my favorite thing. But I'll give it to them this time. The dear asian lady that took my blood didn't try to engage me in useless chit chat; which never distracts me. It just annoys me. She just did her thing, and I literally didn't feel it. Trust me, I always feel it. So, high-five, asian lady!
That was my 'consult' today. And on a good note, they believe insurance will cover the consult and possibly part of the ultrasound, since it's considered part of "diagnosis" and not treatment. So, here's hoping that the meds are the only thing completely out of pocket.. for the moment.
First, props to my husband for taking time off of work to go with me.. though he only ended up answering one question for the doctor; which was, "Do you have any other kids?" (after I had stated I hadn't had any). Luckily, his answer was "no." If it had been "I don't think so." our appointment would have gone very differently. ;-)
Anywho, as soon as I walk into the waiting room, I see a few couples (one of whom was clearly knocked up), and a couple women sitting alone. Half of one of the couples happens to be a teller for the bank I go to for work; at least a few times a week. Ugh. What are the odds? Then later, I find out that one of the men went to school with my hubby. Definitely a small world.
About 40 minutes after we arrive, I get called. We walk back into a very nondescript office. Two barren desks, and a bookshelf with literally nothing on it. No books. No knick-knacks. Clearly, this is the floating office for visiting doctors.
The Doc comes in and shakes my hand. Takes a few moments asking all the usual questions: How long have you been trying? How old are you? What have you tried?
I tell him that my current OB/GYN had me try Clomid at the lowest dose, but was concerned about putting me on higher doseages due to possibly overstimulating the ovaries. Well, this doc clearly did not have that same concern.. as he immediately prescribed that I try the maximum doseage (3 times what I was on). He informs me, "Oh, and with this doseage, you may have some hot flashes and mood swings." Bad news, Doc. I had those side effects on the lowest doseage. So, this should be fun. (my poor husband)
Doc proceeds to inform me that "we do Clomid a little different here." Oh? Do tell. For that, he sends in his nurse, with packets of information. She tells me how we'll induce the cycle (like normal), then I'll take Clomid (like normal), but then instead of a blood test, I'll come in earlier for an ultrasound of my ovaries. Hmm.. Okay. And then, if it looks like I have a follicle ready, then it's injection time.
Ummmm.. what?
Yeah, injections. Fantastic. What's worse? It's the DIY of injections. The kind of injection they expect your husband to give you.. fresh out of the refridgerator, where you store it by the butter. Bleeeeeeeeh. Not sure I'm up for that part. I'm clearly going to have mixed feelings when it's time for the ultrasound.. hoping I have a follicle.. but wishing I didn't need any injections.
Then, lastly, they say.. "Oh. Let's go ahead and do some bloodwork while you're here." Hooray! Always my favorite thing. But I'll give it to them this time. The dear asian lady that took my blood didn't try to engage me in useless chit chat; which never distracts me. It just annoys me. She just did her thing, and I literally didn't feel it. Trust me, I always feel it. So, high-five, asian lady!
That was my 'consult' today. And on a good note, they believe insurance will cover the consult and possibly part of the ultrasound, since it's considered part of "diagnosis" and not treatment. So, here's hoping that the meds are the only thing completely out of pocket.. for the moment.
Friday, November 25, 2011
One Year
First, I want to thank every person who reached out to me after the last post. So many of you messaged me, texted me, emailed me, etc. Some of you could relate to my story. Some of you had been through it and succeeded. Some of you were still trying. And some of you took completely different paths. I appreciate all of you that took the time to share your stories with me. Thank you.
Which brings me to my current post:
In about a week, I will have been married for exactly one year. Which means, we've actually been trying to get pregnant for about one year... and not preventing for even longer. So, this is officially when the doctors will say you're "reproductively challenged." Nice term, huh? Like my ovaries are riding short bus to school.
In the next two weeks, I have two fertility appointments. One with my original doctor, to ask her to explain why she gave up so fast; after only two cycles on the lowest doseage of Clomid. Typically, they try for at least 6 months on increasing doseages before moving on to more intensive options. Then, the 'consultation' with the specialist to whom she referred me.
I'm looking forward to moving onto the next step, but I'm not really eager to go. These kinds of appointments are always kind of depressing. Why? Because you go in hoping they'll have figured it out. Cracked the code to your specific problem or imbalance. But, they never do. You just follow the regimented steps they learned from their med school textbooks. For example, my diagnosis was made from about 3 symptoms grouped together. There's been no real medical test to confirm or diagnose the extent of the problem. Nobody has even brought it up. I find it peculiar.. In that sense, it probably is better that I'm meeting with a specialist that does nothing but fertility.
It's also depressing when you get a new doctor, for the same old problem. You have to repeat everything, explain all your symptoms, go through your history of heartbreaks and depression. It makes you re-live all those times that you don't even want to think about. What's worse, is that 9 times out of 10, I'll be going alone... which sort of backhandedly reminds me that this is MY problem, not OUR problem.
What's even more depressing, due to timing at the moment, is that this appointment is actually going to kind of muck up our holidays and anniversary. After figuring out our bills, doing our holiday and birthday shopping, and then adding on the doctor's fees... we actually don't have enough left over to go back to the cabin like we intended. I even thought of us just staying in the hotel in West Lafayette that we stayed at the night of our wedding; just to get away and relax for a couple days.. but I'm not even sure we can afford that now.
But not to be too much of a downer.. On the bright side, I only have to work for maybe 4 days out of the next two weeks and half weeks. Had some vacation to take before the end of the year.
And the even better news is, even if I'm upset that we can't celebrate our anniversary the way that I would like... I do get to celebrate an anniversary. Sad as it is, plenty of couples don't even make it to one year. I'm thankful that we've made it work, and actually grown closer when things have gotten hard.
So, to my loving husband... I still choose you. Every second of every day.
I am so thankful to have you by my side through this journey.
Which brings me to my current post:
In about a week, I will have been married for exactly one year. Which means, we've actually been trying to get pregnant for about one year... and not preventing for even longer. So, this is officially when the doctors will say you're "reproductively challenged." Nice term, huh? Like my ovaries are riding short bus to school.
In the next two weeks, I have two fertility appointments. One with my original doctor, to ask her to explain why she gave up so fast; after only two cycles on the lowest doseage of Clomid. Typically, they try for at least 6 months on increasing doseages before moving on to more intensive options. Then, the 'consultation' with the specialist to whom she referred me.
I'm looking forward to moving onto the next step, but I'm not really eager to go. These kinds of appointments are always kind of depressing. Why? Because you go in hoping they'll have figured it out. Cracked the code to your specific problem or imbalance. But, they never do. You just follow the regimented steps they learned from their med school textbooks. For example, my diagnosis was made from about 3 symptoms grouped together. There's been no real medical test to confirm or diagnose the extent of the problem. Nobody has even brought it up. I find it peculiar.. In that sense, it probably is better that I'm meeting with a specialist that does nothing but fertility.
It's also depressing when you get a new doctor, for the same old problem. You have to repeat everything, explain all your symptoms, go through your history of heartbreaks and depression. It makes you re-live all those times that you don't even want to think about. What's worse, is that 9 times out of 10, I'll be going alone... which sort of backhandedly reminds me that this is MY problem, not OUR problem.
What's even more depressing, due to timing at the moment, is that this appointment is actually going to kind of muck up our holidays and anniversary. After figuring out our bills, doing our holiday and birthday shopping, and then adding on the doctor's fees... we actually don't have enough left over to go back to the cabin like we intended. I even thought of us just staying in the hotel in West Lafayette that we stayed at the night of our wedding; just to get away and relax for a couple days.. but I'm not even sure we can afford that now.
But not to be too much of a downer.. On the bright side, I only have to work for maybe 4 days out of the next two weeks and half weeks. Had some vacation to take before the end of the year.
And the even better news is, even if I'm upset that we can't celebrate our anniversary the way that I would like... I do get to celebrate an anniversary. Sad as it is, plenty of couples don't even make it to one year. I'm thankful that we've made it work, and actually grown closer when things have gotten hard.
So, to my loving husband... I still choose you. Every second of every day.
I am so thankful to have you by my side through this journey.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Next Step: The Specialist
I just got off the phone with my, now, specialist's office. Per my OB/GYN's referral (I had a whopping two doctors to choose from), I picked this doctor because he occasionally comes to Lafayette. My thinking was that IF we decide to move forward with a more complicated procedure/plan, we wouldn't have to be driving back and forth to Indianapolis all the time.
So, my new Reproductive Endocrinologist is (drum roll, please) Dr. Henry of Reproductive Care of Indiana.
Hey, he seems to have a nice smile. lol And the website really lures you in with all those babies :-P
My appointment is in the second week of December. I apparently have about 20 forms to fill out before my appointment; most of which are blatantly reminding me that everything is out-of-pocket. The consultation with this guy alone is $200. Doesn't sound like a lot.. but ouch.
But we figured it was in our best interest, for mental well-being alone, to meet with him and find out our options.. even if we choose not to, or can't afford to, pursue them.
So, my new Reproductive Endocrinologist is (drum roll, please) Dr. Henry of Reproductive Care of Indiana.
Hey, he seems to have a nice smile. lol And the website really lures you in with all those babies :-P
My appointment is in the second week of December. I apparently have about 20 forms to fill out before my appointment; most of which are blatantly reminding me that everything is out-of-pocket. The consultation with this guy alone is $200. Doesn't sound like a lot.. but ouch.
But we figured it was in our best interest, for mental well-being alone, to meet with him and find out our options.. even if we choose not to, or can't afford to, pursue them.
Welcome
Hello, and welcome. Allow me to explain the purpose of this blog a little bit. Almost a year ago now, I married my best friend. Ever since, we've been actively trying to conceive. Unfortunately, I knew since childhood that things wouldn't be easy. What I didn't know, was how very hard it would be for me to get pregnant.
So far, we've done a couple cycles of progesterone and Clomid; to no avail. And for almost two years now, I've been on Metformin.. but it's literally done nothing to help. So, I've now been referred to a specialist (reproductive endocrinologist). Sound expensive? It is. Just for the consultation, it's $200. What's worse? Insurance covers NOTHING related to fertility. I find something disturbing about the fact that insurance companies will pay out for Viagra, but not Clomid.. but I digress.
That brings me to this blog. After posting about my dismay of facing the end of our path; due to lack of funding, I joked with a friend that I needed to start a fundraiser. Though I was kidding, after some thought, I figured it wasn't a terrible idea. People raise money for cancer treatments and such all the time. While infertility isn't life-threatening.. it is heartbreaking.
My heart breaks every day, when I think about having to give up on the idea of having children, and when I think of how.. as a wife, I can't help but feel like I've let my husband down. He has always remained supportive, but I know this is hurting him.
So, for now, we're accepting donations. But more importantly, we're accepting ideas of how to raise funds. Clearly, we need to do something. The treatments that come next cost thousands of dollars each time you try. Just as an example, IVF (in-vitro) costs 10-15 thousand dollars; and it takes 2 to 3 times for most women to have a successful pregnancy. You can do the math. It's also costly to go through the adoption process, should we decide to choose that path. For folks that live "okay" from paycheck to paycheck, it's just not possible to pay that out as one lump sum.
Along the way, I'll blog about our experiences and decisions. How far will we go? Will I sacrifice my health to try to conceive? You'll read all about our trials and errors. Our moments of despair, and moments filled with hope.
Help us make Our Little Wish come true.
(and should it never happen for us, I can only hope this blog and our journey, will provide insight to others on this painful and complicated path)
So far, we've done a couple cycles of progesterone and Clomid; to no avail. And for almost two years now, I've been on Metformin.. but it's literally done nothing to help. So, I've now been referred to a specialist (reproductive endocrinologist). Sound expensive? It is. Just for the consultation, it's $200. What's worse? Insurance covers NOTHING related to fertility. I find something disturbing about the fact that insurance companies will pay out for Viagra, but not Clomid.. but I digress.
That brings me to this blog. After posting about my dismay of facing the end of our path; due to lack of funding, I joked with a friend that I needed to start a fundraiser. Though I was kidding, after some thought, I figured it wasn't a terrible idea. People raise money for cancer treatments and such all the time. While infertility isn't life-threatening.. it is heartbreaking.
My heart breaks every day, when I think about having to give up on the idea of having children, and when I think of how.. as a wife, I can't help but feel like I've let my husband down. He has always remained supportive, but I know this is hurting him.
So, for now, we're accepting donations. But more importantly, we're accepting ideas of how to raise funds. Clearly, we need to do something. The treatments that come next cost thousands of dollars each time you try. Just as an example, IVF (in-vitro) costs 10-15 thousand dollars; and it takes 2 to 3 times for most women to have a successful pregnancy. You can do the math. It's also costly to go through the adoption process, should we decide to choose that path. For folks that live "okay" from paycheck to paycheck, it's just not possible to pay that out as one lump sum.
Along the way, I'll blog about our experiences and decisions. How far will we go? Will I sacrifice my health to try to conceive? You'll read all about our trials and errors. Our moments of despair, and moments filled with hope.
Help us make Our Little Wish come true.
(and should it never happen for us, I can only hope this blog and our journey, will provide insight to others on this painful and complicated path)
Moment of Clarity
I wrote an essay.. a short story if you will, about a day I had. Really, an epiphany I had relating to my infertility. It actually may get published, and if you all could click through and rate it, and/or comment on it, it may actually help it get picked.
http://www.35u35.com/submissions/sweet-child/
http://www.35u35.com/submissions/sweet-child/
So please, go read it.. and share the link with your friends. I hope it will be inspiring.
How Do You Like Your Eggs? (My Original Coming Out Blog)
The following was my "coming out" blog/note on Facebook. I posted this just a few short weeks ago. Prior to this, nobody but my husband knew about my PCOS/fertility issues. How did you let people know? Or have you?
"Sooooo.. I'd been debating on whether or not to share any of this or not.. for a long time. But since I recently posted a status about getting a surrogate mother; that I intended to be a joke about how I REALLY don't want to give birth, I got a lot of comments and questions; both on the status, and in private messages. It sort of dawned on me how very many people deal with fertility issues; and I'm not really too much a private person. If someone asks me a question, I give an honest answer. Sex. Religion. Addiction. Depression. I can talk about any of it at length. But this ONE thing, I always kept to myself. But why?
Well, I care... obviously.. My husband probably cares.. But, he doesn't love me any less for it. And so, I've decided it's not worth keeping to ourselves anymore. Though, in honesty, a couple people did know.. Many moons ago, Brad told one of his relatives and a coworker (a coworker that I despised with every fiber of my being; mind you). I was devastated for awhile. So very, very hurt. I hadn't told my relatives or dearest friends. It certainly wasn't his information to share. Truth is, it still bothers me a great a deal... But I realize that he was naively unaware of how big a deal it was to me at the time. I think, to him, it was like telling someone I had a cold. But I think he "got it" when I said, "How would you feel if I told someone.. someone you didn't like, especially.. that your sperm count was low?" I think it then resonated how personal that would feel. (btw, it's not.. or as far as we know, it's not.. lol)
But through all this, I realized why I didn't want people to know. I didn't want people to treat me differently; being careful to never ask 'hopefully' or 'jokingly' if I was pregnant. Or looking for symptoms of my 'disorder.' I didn't want people to be afraid to invite me to baby showers. I just didn't want to be treated like the broken piece of candy.
So, for that reason, I won't be posting the particular problem that I have. (Two uteruses? A lazy ovary? Was I born a male? I'll never tell :-P) I will say that it's not necessarily dooming. Plenty of women get pregnant with this issue.. but it IS harder. And unfortunately, there is no good treatment for it. Really just trial and error. There are medications I can try. Fertility drugs and such. Problem is, this condition also makes it more likely that I will miscarry if I happen to get pregnant. Obviously, that's scary.. and something to think about.
Now, to those of you who grew up with me, this might be sort of a surprise that I'm even talking about WANTING to get pregnant. I was notoriously known for saying that me having kids was a one-shot deal. I'll agree to get pregnant ONCE; if my husband REALLY wants kids. Otherwise, I'm fine with none.
Well, there's quite a mix of history here. First, ever since I was 11 years old, I knew there was something wrong.. and that having children would be difficult; if not impossible. So, I think it's feasible that I just convinced myself I didn't want children. It was easier than battling with it and thinking about, or admitting, how I "couldn't."
But a few things have changed. First, meeting Brad. He was the first person I could even imagine having children with. And secondly, my niece and nephew. The way they light up a room.. at least for me.. It's sort of mesmerizing.
However, with all that said, a part of me is still unsure if I do want children. Maybe I just think I do.. Or maybe I just believe that's 'what comes next' in life. Cause here's the downside of all this. You have to think about it. Really THINK about it. You have no choice but to weigh the pros and cons. When you have to try so hard to make something happen, you inevitably ask yourself if it's worth it.. or the right thing to do.
I've had about a bajillion thoughts on it.
The world is over-populated. It's an environmental burden. We don't own a home yet. Would I be a good mother anyway? Would I rather just save money? Who's gonna make sure I'm in a good nursing home later? Is it too late? Is it worth taking fertility drugs that could harm me? Could we adopt? Would I even WANT to adopt? College is gonna cost a lot in 20 years. I really do NOT want to give birth. I could teach a child so many things. What would our kids look like? I don't want to be working overnights when I have children. Can I deal with miscarriages if we really try? I obviously can't get pregnant if I never see my husband, but I can't afford to have a baby if I quit my job. This all stresses me out. The stress doesn't help fertility. (and so on, and so on, and so on)
These are things you don't really have to think about when it just 'happens' .. by accident, or minimal planning. Then, you just take it as it is, and go day by day. But day by day isn't an option, when each day is another decision, another stressor, another medication, or another doctor's appointment.
So, I struggle with all this.. almost on a daily basis. But, in fairness, we've only been 'trying' since our wedding. Not long at all in the scope of things. However, with our schedules; we're unlikely to conceive due to logistics and timing. And, obviously, neither of us are spring chickens anymore. IF we want to do this, we need to actively get on board. Which means fertility drugs and probably a change of job for me. It's all very disheartening at times.
One might ask, at this point, "If you're trying to have kids, why did you JUST buy a Mustang?" Fair question. It doesn't exactly scream 'parent-to-be,' I know. But that's sort of the point. I didn't buy a 'kid-friendly' vehicle, because if things don't pan out.. I don't want a constant reminder of things that never happened for us. I figured if we got pregnant, we could always trade in. But I didn't want a vehicle with lots of seating, always feeling 'less than' for being unable to fill it. :-\
Before this all sounds too 'woe is me' .. let me say this: While I am, hopeful.. and wanting to have a child.. I DO think I'd be fine with never having children. Of course, I'd wonder 'what if' a lot. Or regret it when nobody is buying my groceries when I'm 70. ;-) But, I'd really be okay. I've never felt an ounce of bitterness about someone else's pregnancy.
So right now, we're trying to figure it all out. What we want. What we CAN do. And how to make any of it happen. I greatly appreciate all the support I've received already. But please.. don't treat me like the broken or mis-molded piece of candy. Eat me, as you normally would :-P I really am okay; at least most days.
And if putting this out there, for everyone to read, lets just one person know that they aren't struggling with this alone.. well, then.. it's served its purpose."
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