September 2010. That’s when my fertility journey began. After months of trying to get pregnant, I asked my gynecologist if he would check my thyroid because of family history. I never showed the typical signs for hypothyroidism – weight issues, tiredness, hair issues – but there I was, crushing it. A simple thyroid test showed my levels were out of whack, and this is when the meds started. Luckily, 6 months later, the Synthroid was working and everything was in check.
But, that simple fix wasn’t a fix at all.
Onto meds round 2. And 3 and 4. “Let’s try Clomid. It works for so many patients, it should work for you.” It didn’t. It was recommended that we move on to a fertility specialist. Onto more meds, more appointments, still no success. Still no answers or diagnoses. Then finally, after my second IUI, I was pregnant.
My pregnancy lasted 9 weeks and ended in miscarriage. Time for a break – mentally and physically. Seriously, how much more can I handle?
But wait, more meds. I was referred to another specialist in Baton Rouge. With fertility treatments, that means early morning appointments, multiple times a week. You know how much fun that drive is in the morning? It’s not. However, I felt like I might get some answers this time. The new doc tested me for things my fertility specialist hadn’t (which REALLY made me angry) and now, I was prescribed Metformin. My lovely glucose test came back and showed signs of insulin resistance. Metformin and Clomid combo was sure to work for me. But it didn’t.
Meds round ?? Losing count here. So on to new fertility specialist. Much like the previous doctors, new doc can’t seem to figure out why nothing is working. I’m “textbook” perfect to be able to conceive and carry but 4 docs later, and no success (minus my sweet baby I lost via miscarriage).
IUI, IUI, nothing. So on to IVF and the big meds. You know, shots in the stomach and the glutes 1-3 times per day. My butt hurt!! My body, as usual, responded well. Lots of eggs. Hand clap! Let’s harvest those babies. My doc harvested 18!!! And after fertilization, we had 11 embryo to work with. We decided to insert 3 embryo, and nothing.
Frustrating. Exhausting. Angry. Disappointed.
November 2016. Six years later. I’m a mom to a beautiful child that God gave us through adoption and prayer. All the prayers! Do you know how lucky we are to have angels on Earth like Father Manny and Sister Dulce? Some days, I know their visits are the only thing that saved my sanity.
So now what?
Oh yea, I still have 8 embryo frozen. Remember how lucky we were to harvest to many eggs?
You see, this never ends. Never. Ever. At 35 years old, and after 6 years of drugs, my husband and I decided that my body has had enough. Now, I can donate the embryo to the fertility clinic for another person to use. We can keep them in storage…forever? We can have them transferred to another state (each states laws re: frozen embryos differ) and possibly donate them for stem cell research.
Either way, the journey is taxing and the decisions are tough. If you have a friend, a loved one or you yourself are experiencing fertility issues, know there’s always someone willing to listen. Each journey is different, but yet, all the same.
good blog.. thanks for sharing
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