March 8, 2006, my alarm went off to remind me to take my birth control pill. We had just finished our last pack and had decided that we were not going to refill it for at least nine months or so. I had done all of the research and knew how to tell when our most fertile times were. I followed all of the do’s and don’t(s) of trying to conceive. I didn’t drink, or smoke, I ate healthy. My husband and I had been married two years and did everything by the book. We got married, had secure jobs, bought a house and it was now time to bring in a new addition to the family.
Because I had done my studying I knew that it was not uncommon for a couple to try to conceive for up to a year. This made no difference in the amount of emotion that went into trying each month. I remember each holiday hoping I would find out in time to let everyone know at the family get togethers. In the last three months of our first year I had began to wish for a miscarriage or anything that would tell us it was even possible to conceive. Nothing happened. I knew that after a year of trying without any barriers we were considered to be infertile.
We set an appointment with our primary care physician, who quickly sent us to a local OB/GYN doctor. With each visit I would hope they would perform a pregnancy test, and let me know that fertility treatment was unnecessary for me because I was pregnant. This never happened. The OB/GYN did an internal ultrasound and found that I had cyst on my left ovary. He had also found that my husband’s sperm count was low (lab error). The doctor found that there was nothing he could do for me and sent me to a specialist in another city.
I told myself that it was good they found a problem, because problems could be fixed. We started seeing the doctor in the other city, who sent me for countless tests. From May to September we had been prodded and probed so many times the bruising from the lab work had no time to heal before the next time. I had two surgeries, with the final result of only having a 5 percent chance of my husband and I conceiving on our own. The doctor said I needed to consider artificial insemination, or IVF to increase our odds.
I wanted a second opinion and needed to find a more local place to complete what we need to have a child. In October 2007, I found another doctor in my city and called to see if he was accepting any new patients. They informed me that they were not accepting new patients, but when I told them I had all of this testing completed and was mainly interested in IUI or IVF, they accepted me and set an appointment for January 2008. I immediately called the doctors office in the other city and asked for my file to be transferred to this local office.
My first appointment with the new specialist went smoothly, the office reported they had not yet received my records, but the cost of treatment here compared to at the office in the other city was a third of the cost. They completed a pap and scheduled an internal ultrasound on cycle day thirteen to check my ovaries and egg production. At the ultrasound the doctor informed me that my eggs were too small to be considered ovulatory. The doctor’s office had still not received my records, I was afraid that I would have to go though all of those test again. The doctor ordered blood work to check my progesterone levels on cycle day twenty-one. The blood work came back too low to be considered ovulatory. The doctor called me to let me know that we were going to move forward without my records and that he was going to be writing me a script for Clomid.
I am going to be starting our first cycle on Clomid, and know that it could take time. I figure that everything happens for a reason. This includes infertility. I would not wish infertility on anyone, but could not say that I wish it had never happened to me. It has changed the way I look at life. So many times in the last two years I have cried myself to sleep. I didn’t understand how God would allow my fourteen year old cousin to get pregnant, when she wasn’t even old enough to have a job, or how he could allow my friend to find out she was pregnant when she went for a pre-op to get her tubes tied. I did not understand how he could allow abortions to continue to happen when there were several people like myself wanting a child. He told me that everything happens for a purpose, and whether it is to teach my cousin how to grow up and be responsible, or to soften my friends heart by loving the unexpected, or to change the view of life to the woman who just aborted her child. He allows all things to happen so that they can affect you.
I wrote the following poem in the second year of trying to conceive. Please enjoy, and know that all things happen for a reason.
I wish I could hold her,
Or start to decorate her room,
But until the stripe shows up,
It just my heart I groom,
I dream of him also,
He’ll have curly little hair,
And you should see his attitude,
It is full of so much flare.
She’ll be just like my mother,
As confident as can be,
But that cute little button nose,
That came straight from me.
He’ll have the spark of his father,
When he starts to joke about,
But the twinkle in his big brown eyes,
Came from Papo Jack no doubt.
She’ll laugh with a contagious snort,
Just like my mother and I,
Have her father wrapped around her finger,
Because she makes his heart fly.
He’ll have endurance like my father,
Can go miles at a time,
He will cry when he needs me,
I’m there at the drop of a dime,
God can see that I am hurting inside,
He knows what his plan requires,
So I will give it no more concern or tears
The Lord knows the purpose of all of my desires,
I know not why I’ve had to wait so long,
Someday this dream will be mine,
Until that day I know the Lord know all my needs,
And it will come in his good time.