NIAW - My Story
In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week, I thought I'd share my story in more depth, from the VERY beginning. It may take awhile to get through it, and you may have read bits and pieces of our story over time, but I wanted another go at it. I'm not sure I've ever shared EVERYTHING that I've been through and where it all began....
Spring 2000 - Senior in High School
I was a late-bloomer, around 15 when I started my period. Throughout high school I was very irregular, and occasionally suffered from heavy periods. Did I think anything of it? No. Early in 2000 my mom, against my will, forced me to go to the Gynecologist. It was at this time that she put me on BCP's to regulate my cycle, which I was totally okay with. Unfortunately, with regulation came strange stomach pains (and vomiting) that I was unaccustomed to. After missing a decent amount of school, and multiple appointments with my PCP I was referred back to my OBGYN. It was a few days before graduation that I was diagnosed with Endometriosis, and she suggested that I be treated with Lupron Depot for six months. At this time she also told me that this diagnosis meant that I'd have difficulty conceiving in the future. I had been a firm believer that, in the future, should I want children, I would adopt. This diagnosis changed my mind. I felt like a kid in a toy store, I was told that I couldn't have something, which meant that I only wanted it more.
The College Years (2000-2008) -
I decided early on that I wanted to major in Pre-Med, and my diagnosis only strengthened my desire to become a physician. My freshman year I wanted nothing more than to become a Reproductive Endocrinologist, but the stress of what I was going through didn't allow me to focus on my dreams. I missed a lot of class, some of it because I was unmotivated, some of it because I felt so crappy. Looking back, I don't think that there was any question that I was suffering from depression.
After six months of the God-awful drug known as Lupron, my OBGYN put me back on BCP's, but the pain required me to take different medications to manage a semi-normal life. Eventually, I switched from BCP's to DepoProvera in a desperate attempt to manage the pain.
DepoProvera caused migraines and nausea, and my OBGYN suggested that I have a laparoscopy to see what exactly was going on in there. In Summer 2002, I had my first (of many) laparoscopies. As scared as I was, recovery was a cake-walk, and we had answers. Surgery gave us visual proof that I had extensive Endometriosis, with growths that had spread to my bowel and bladder, among other places. My doctor cauterized all that she could without causing further damage, and put me back on BCP's in hopes of preventing the spread.
I did fairly well for a year or so, but eventually it became unbearable again. In August of 2005, I went under anesthesia once again for another laparoscopy. Much like we thought, the Endometriosis had spread, but there was nothing to cauterize. The majority of the scar tissue was on my bladder, so I was sent to a Urologist for pain management, all while continuing the normal course of treatment.
My Urologist did some tests and diagnosed me with Interstital Cystitis, and had me on weekly bladder washes to control that pain and (hopefully) prevent the multiple UTI's I'd been suffering from. A few times I had excess scar tissue blocking my urethra which would cause horrible pain, as I was unable to fully empty my bladder, which would inevitably lead to a UTI. When this would occur I would go into his office, and they would cath me to empty my bladder, and then dilate my urethra with a large metal rod that would help break up the scar tissue. After the dilation, I would have another catheter inserted into my urethra and the bladder wash would be performed. Talk about painful, I had to hold the medicine /wash in for 30 minutes, which was about as long as it took me to get home. I definitely left that appointment and flew myself home to empty the garlicky smelling wash that I'd been holding inside my body. Let's just say that was not a pleasant experience, (Side Note - at this time in my life I was living at home, but driving 90 mikes round trip daily to go to a private college to study nursing. I honestly wasn't enjoying it as much as I had hoped, and eventually dropped out of that program, and changed schools.
Changing schools was definitely the best decision I had made. I transferred to University of Illinois -Springfield campus, and found my calling in Business Administration, though I focused on Health Care Administration.) There were times that I still had lingering pains, but they were much more tolerable. Only once in the two years I was there did I need narcotic pain meds to take the edge off. I felt like I was making huge strides.
After graduating, I didn't have much lined up and I kind of floated from job to job, though I will admit that I enjoyed all of the jobs. I pretty much became complacent and didn't want to rock the boat.
Something Tells Me I'm into Something Good - 2009 and Beyond
In early 2009, after many years of different BCP's, my OBGYN put me on the strongest pills available. I can honestly say that I was feeling much better. Suddenly, I started experience severe nausea and I couldn't quite pin where it was coming from. My boyfriend at the time, now my amazing husband, noticed that I felt fine while I was on my period, but the minute I started the active pills I would be uber sick. I called my OBGYN for yet another appointment and was switched to LoEstrin 24 FE, this pill had more active days, and fewer inactive (or as the docs call them 'bleed days'). Unfortunately they also contain iron, which doesn't like me too much. Oh well...
Chad and I got married at our dream destination in February 2011, and as required by the 'marriage contract', briefly sealed the deal. This was a very painful experience for me, so we didn't try to do anything the remainder of the trip. Upon returning home, my period never came, which was worriesome. Could we seriously be one of those couples that beat the odds?!
Spring 2000 - Senior in High School
I was a late-bloomer, around 15 when I started my period. Throughout high school I was very irregular, and occasionally suffered from heavy periods. Did I think anything of it? No. Early in 2000 my mom, against my will, forced me to go to the Gynecologist. It was at this time that she put me on BCP's to regulate my cycle, which I was totally okay with. Unfortunately, with regulation came strange stomach pains (and vomiting) that I was unaccustomed to. After missing a decent amount of school, and multiple appointments with my PCP I was referred back to my OBGYN. It was a few days before graduation that I was diagnosed with Endometriosis, and she suggested that I be treated with Lupron Depot for six months. At this time she also told me that this diagnosis meant that I'd have difficulty conceiving in the future. I had been a firm believer that, in the future, should I want children, I would adopt. This diagnosis changed my mind. I felt like a kid in a toy store, I was told that I couldn't have something, which meant that I only wanted it more.
The College Years (2000-2008) -
I decided early on that I wanted to major in Pre-Med, and my diagnosis only strengthened my desire to become a physician. My freshman year I wanted nothing more than to become a Reproductive Endocrinologist, but the stress of what I was going through didn't allow me to focus on my dreams. I missed a lot of class, some of it because I was unmotivated, some of it because I felt so crappy. Looking back, I don't think that there was any question that I was suffering from depression.
After six months of the God-awful drug known as Lupron, my OBGYN put me back on BCP's, but the pain required me to take different medications to manage a semi-normal life. Eventually, I switched from BCP's to DepoProvera in a desperate attempt to manage the pain.
DepoProvera caused migraines and nausea, and my OBGYN suggested that I have a laparoscopy to see what exactly was going on in there. In Summer 2002, I had my first (of many) laparoscopies. As scared as I was, recovery was a cake-walk, and we had answers. Surgery gave us visual proof that I had extensive Endometriosis, with growths that had spread to my bowel and bladder, among other places. My doctor cauterized all that she could without causing further damage, and put me back on BCP's in hopes of preventing the spread.
I did fairly well for a year or so, but eventually it became unbearable again. In August of 2005, I went under anesthesia once again for another laparoscopy. Much like we thought, the Endometriosis had spread, but there was nothing to cauterize. The majority of the scar tissue was on my bladder, so I was sent to a Urologist for pain management, all while continuing the normal course of treatment.
My Urologist did some tests and diagnosed me with Interstital Cystitis, and had me on weekly bladder washes to control that pain and (hopefully) prevent the multiple UTI's I'd been suffering from. A few times I had excess scar tissue blocking my urethra which would cause horrible pain, as I was unable to fully empty my bladder, which would inevitably lead to a UTI. When this would occur I would go into his office, and they would cath me to empty my bladder, and then dilate my urethra with a large metal rod that would help break up the scar tissue. After the dilation, I would have another catheter inserted into my urethra and the bladder wash would be performed. Talk about painful, I had to hold the medicine /wash in for 30 minutes, which was about as long as it took me to get home. I definitely left that appointment and flew myself home to empty the garlicky smelling wash that I'd been holding inside my body. Let's just say that was not a pleasant experience, (Side Note - at this time in my life I was living at home, but driving 90 mikes round trip daily to go to a private college to study nursing. I honestly wasn't enjoying it as much as I had hoped, and eventually dropped out of that program, and changed schools.
Changing schools was definitely the best decision I had made. I transferred to University of Illinois -Springfield campus, and found my calling in Business Administration, though I focused on Health Care Administration.) There were times that I still had lingering pains, but they were much more tolerable. Only once in the two years I was there did I need narcotic pain meds to take the edge off. I felt like I was making huge strides.
After graduating, I didn't have much lined up and I kind of floated from job to job, though I will admit that I enjoyed all of the jobs. I pretty much became complacent and didn't want to rock the boat.
Something Tells Me I'm into Something Good - 2009 and Beyond
In early 2009, after many years of different BCP's, my OBGYN put me on the strongest pills available. I can honestly say that I was feeling much better. Suddenly, I started experience severe nausea and I couldn't quite pin where it was coming from. My boyfriend at the time, now my amazing husband, noticed that I felt fine while I was on my period, but the minute I started the active pills I would be uber sick. I called my OBGYN for yet another appointment and was switched to LoEstrin 24 FE, this pill had more active days, and fewer inactive (or as the docs call them 'bleed days'). Unfortunately they also contain iron, which doesn't like me too much. Oh well...
Chad and I got married at our dream destination in February 2011, and as required by the 'marriage contract', briefly sealed the deal. This was a very painful experience for me, so we didn't try to do anything the remainder of the trip. Upon returning home, my period never came, which was worriesome. Could we seriously be one of those couples that beat the odds?!
My HPT was a BFN, no surprise there. And when it continued through March, we decided it was time to go back to my OBGYN. She ran a battery of (very expensive) tests to try to find an answer, but it didn't happen. I just continued on those BCP's hoping for the best.
About a month later, Chad and I packed up our beautiful house in Chatham, America and made the trek down to Houston, Texas. (Pearland, if you want to be specific.). Our insurance through Chad's job required us to get full physicals, so we chose a doctor that, on paper looked good. At this appointment, we went through my extensive medical history, and I pleaded with her about getting a pelvic exam, I saw no point in having it done since I'd recently had one. Lets just say the Russian physician won. Sigh...
After the exam, she told me tha she saw a huge, honking polyp on my cervix, and that it was too large for her to treat it in the office. She referred me to a local OBGYN clinic, where I was given three docs to chose from. (I had planned on keeping my doc back in Illinois, since I didn't need much at that point). I ended up going with the geeky-looking ginger guy, because he just looked like he was understanding, friendly and enjoyable. I was neither wrong nor disappointed.
At my first appointment with him, I forced Chad to come with for moral support, as I was quite uncomfortable seeing a guy. Unfortunately, he was in complete agreement with the Russian physician, and said that I needed to have surgery to remove said polyps. We also expressed our concern of 'painful, ahem, intercouse' to him. He scheduled me for a hysteroscopy and D&C a few weeks later to remove the growths and to do some general cleaning.
For the most part, surgery went well. Unfortunately, there was a complication during surgery, and my uterus ended up perforated. This caused the need for another laparoscopy, which was actually a blessing in disguise. My endometriosis was so extensive it was diagnosed as Grade 4, and I was told that if we wanted children, we needed to get on that much sooner than later.
In December 2011 we decided to start trying, but we had no idea just how difficult it could (and would) be.
We tried naturally over 6 months, and suffered from a very early miscarriage and was diagnosed with a Progesterone deficiency. Since I'd had a history of irregular cycles and Endometriosis, I was sent for a HSG, which ended up clear. At my follow-up appointment with my OBGYN, he prescribed Clomid which came with monthly follow-up appointments with him. He also ordered a semen analysis for Chad, which was to be done through the fertility clinic upstairs.
About a month later, Chad and I packed up our beautiful house in Chatham, America and made the trek down to Houston, Texas. (Pearland, if you want to be specific.). Our insurance through Chad's job required us to get full physicals, so we chose a doctor that, on paper looked good. At this appointment, we went through my extensive medical history, and I pleaded with her about getting a pelvic exam, I saw no point in having it done since I'd recently had one. Lets just say the Russian physician won. Sigh...
After the exam, she told me tha she saw a huge, honking polyp on my cervix, and that it was too large for her to treat it in the office. She referred me to a local OBGYN clinic, where I was given three docs to chose from. (I had planned on keeping my doc back in Illinois, since I didn't need much at that point). I ended up going with the geeky-looking ginger guy, because he just looked like he was understanding, friendly and enjoyable. I was neither wrong nor disappointed.
At my first appointment with him, I forced Chad to come with for moral support, as I was quite uncomfortable seeing a guy. Unfortunately, he was in complete agreement with the Russian physician, and said that I needed to have surgery to remove said polyps. We also expressed our concern of 'painful, ahem, intercouse' to him. He scheduled me for a hysteroscopy and D&C a few weeks later to remove the growths and to do some general cleaning.
For the most part, surgery went well. Unfortunately, there was a complication during surgery, and my uterus ended up perforated. This caused the need for another laparoscopy, which was actually a blessing in disguise. My endometriosis was so extensive it was diagnosed as Grade 4, and I was told that if we wanted children, we needed to get on that much sooner than later.
In December 2011 we decided to start trying, but we had no idea just how difficult it could (and would) be.
We tried naturally over 6 months, and suffered from a very early miscarriage and was diagnosed with a Progesterone deficiency. Since I'd had a history of irregular cycles and Endometriosis, I was sent for a HSG, which ended up clear. At my follow-up appointment with my OBGYN, he prescribed Clomid which came with monthly follow-up appointments with him. He also ordered a semen analysis for Chad, which was to be done through the fertility clinic upstairs.
After my OBGYN received the results, he called to schedule yet another follow-up. Apparently Chad had an outstanding sperm count, but the morphology (or shape) was abnormal. There wasn't much that could be done about it, so we just continued on the said plan for six months and scheduled a consult with the Reproductive Endocrinologist.
During this time, I consulted with the RE who had studied my history in-depth. He told me that it was highly unlikely that I'd be able to conceive without help and recommended that we go directly to IVF. He said that he'd be willing to try one IUI, but no more than that as he thought it was a waste of money. We decided to finish the six months of Clomid, and then jump into the fertility treatments.
Mid-January 2013, we decided that we were ready to bite the bullet and try IUI. Unfortunately, my body, once again, had other ideas. My Estrogen level was high, and I had a very small ovarian cyst. They put me on BCP's for a few days and had me follow up in a week.
The following week, despite being on BCP's , the cyst had more than doubled in size and I'd developed another cyst on the other side. The lab results showed that my Estrogen had, indeed, doubled. Since I'm not a patient person, and the BCP's made me miserable, we consulted with the RE and decided on scheduling a cyst aspiration that week. My mom was (thankfully) able to fly down to help out, since Chad's work was hectic. The aspiration went well, and they were able to drain three cysts. I was scheduled three days later for a US & labs where everything looked wonderfully. I was able to start my injections a few days later.
Stimulation went (I thought) beautifully. For once my body did exactly what it needed to do and responded well to medications. My RE's office does two back-to-back inseminations, so I went through those with high hopes and anxiously waited for my HCG/Beta which was a BFN.
We met with the RE about the plan, and decided to take a month break so that we could enjoy our vacation without stress. Since IUI was covered, by our new insurance, we decided we'd give it another shot once we returned.
We tried IUI two more times, and had very high hopes for the third cycle since we had made medication changes. We were very excited when I didn't start spotting prior to stopping my Projesterone injections, but again got a BFN with my HCG/Beta. After meeting with the RE, we decided that IUI was a huge waste of our time and money, and that it was time to pull out the big guns.
I went through a month of down-regulation with Lupron, and went back late-August for an ultrasound and labs. Imagine my surprise when I received a message telling me it was time to start injections after only a month!!! It was a good thing we had ordered all of the medications we had needed in advance!
I started my injections and had monitoring appointments every other day. I responded slowly to the meds, and ended up doing a whopping 17 days of stimulation. By the time I was ready for retrieval, I was horribly bloated and in a lot of pain. My mom flew down for my retrieval and transfer to help out where it was needed since my doc follows a very strict bedrest policy.
On retrieval day, we arrived bright and early at the surgery center, ready to go. I wore my lucky socks and multiple other "lucky" items hoping for the best. I was disappointed when I woke up to find out that they'd only retrieved 10 mature eggs, but I also knew that all it took was one. I went home to recover, and anxiously awaited my fertilization report 24 hours later.
I was pleasantly surprised with the fertilization report - we'd only lost one egg, and the remaining nine had fertilized and appeared to be responding well. My transfer was scheduled five days later, as things were looking promising.
On Transfer Day, my doctor came made a special trip to the surgery center to personally perform the transfer. (Usually it's whatever doctor is in the office that day.) We were all floored when he came in to tell us that all nine of the eggs had survived the five day fertilization process. We decided to transfer two embryos, and freeze the remaining seven for the future. I was sent home on strict bedrest for the next three days, and started the longest wait ever!
Being the super impatient person that I am, I started testing early. I felt like I was a living science experiment. Once I tested the trigger shot out of my system, I knew that if I got a positive, it was the real deal. A few days later, on a Saturday morning, I woke up early and decided to test. I thought I was seeing things when I saw a faint pink line on the tester. I ran into the bedroom, and woke Chad up. I was shaking and sick to my stomach. Was this real or was I imagining things? Chad saw the line too, and we both called our parents to tell them the potentially good news.
I continued testing until my HCG/Beta two weeks later, and was amazed when the lines kept getting darker. Chad and I kept all of the tests and would analyze the differences almost daily. I took the day of my big test off, and anxiously awaited the results. That was the best phone call I have ever received, and I don't think I'll ever forget it. After we told our parents the official news, we made it official on Facebook, Instagram and our blog.
We knew we weren't out of the woods yet, and cherished every day - even though I was completely miserable. I had follow up appointments every other day, and Chad came to my first Ultrasound where we found out how many gelatinous blobs were growing inside of me. We were relieved when we found out there was only one, but we were sad that our other one didn't make it. I continued seeing the RE until 12 weeks, and loved seeing that blob morph into a mini-person.
It was difficult when I was no longer getting regular ultrasounds, as I was concerned whether or not the baby was really growing and thriving. The horrendous all-day sickness was a constant reminder of what was going on inside my body.
Present Day -
After all we went through, I feel guilty for feeling so miserable. I wish I could cherish every moment, and be that insanely happy pregnant person who never had a complaint. Sad reality is that I'm not. Pregnancy is pretty miserable. I lost nearly 20 pounds from when I found out I was pregnant. My appetite is still hit or miss, and I crave strange things. I'm in constant pain - it hurts to sit, it hurts to walk, and it's nearly impossible to sleep at night. Smells drive me up the wall, and the nausea hasn't yet disappeared completely. I have to pee all the time, and there's no consistency in bowel habits - the constipation that accompanies pregnancy is fierce.
That being said I wouldn't trade it for the world. While at this time I have zero desire to ever be pregnant again, that could change. (Much like my mood!). I'm thankful for this opportunity and I cannot wait to meet our precious baby girl in 6-ish weeks. I can tell you now that she is going to be one spoiled princess.
My Words of Wisdom -
Never EVER give up hope. That is the most important thing. There were days that I wanted to completely give up, but in the end, it's worth it.
It's okay to cry. Get those tears out of your system. It may be a temporary fix, but it really does help.
Talk about it. To your spouse, your friends, and those you are close to. That has truly been a blessing. Infertility is nothing to be ashamed of. You'd be amazed by the support and stories you will hear.
It's OKAY to be upset. I still am bothered by those fertile-myrtles. I get insanely jealous, and there are times I'm judgmental about it too.
Find support. Whether you reach out to a perfect stranger, join a support group on social media, or join a local support group it will help. Some of the people I've become closest to during this journey are my Instagram ladies, they are truly amazing.
Make sure you're 100% comfortable with your treating physicians. One of the physicians in the group I wasn't comfortable with, and I made sure that physician never treated me again.
Ask questions.
Treat yourself. Be it manicures, pedicures, massages or a special purchase - you deserve it.
Don't forget about your partner. It's tough on them, too. Men don't express themselves well, but they have feelings too.
And, finally, have FAITH. I'm not a religious person, and there were times I questioned whether infertility was a punishment for my past. Infertility isn't punishment, but it's one helluva cross to carry. The good news is that it really does make you stronger.
Please know, whoever you are and wherever you are, I'm always here. Send me a message, leave a comment. I'm an open book. Please remember that you are not alone. And, one way or another, you WILL get through this.
~Diana~
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