... or as it is known by those in the know: The Two Week Wait.
- Is it just me, or are you always starving during the 2WW, too? I find dieting so much easier during the first two weeks of my cycles. But as soon as I ovulate, it's like I need all the food, NOW.
- my temperatures are still really low, with no thermal shift. This would seem to indicate my body is not responding to the increase in progesterone. As I mentioned a couple weeks ago, my progesterone numbers are considered normal. Perhaps on the low end of normal, but normal enough to indicate I am ovulating. Should I just ask for progesterone?
- I asked Dr. Google how I could naturally bump up my BBT numbers, thereby hopefully increasing progesterone, and wow. Talk about mixed messages. Never trust Dr. Google.
- For example, there's one dude who says you should eat more sugar, and eat lots of whole foods, to the point that you are overeating, and you shouldn't exercise. I'm like: Hey. I am a living example of why that particular "method" doesn't work. Also, it's a little scary when people who aren't doctors dispense medical advice on the internet.
- The rest of the internet thinks I have a thyroid problem. Multiple tests have shown that, clinically, I do not.
- Plenty of internet geniuses think I should cut out gluten. I don't even know, you guys.
- Making Babies is not helping me the way I want to be helped right now. It alludes to a possible luteal phase defect. And the book and my doctor seem to disagree about what adequate levels of progesterone are ... I'm leaning toward simply asking for the progesterone supplement once this cycle is over.
- Mostly I just want to stop thinking about this forever.
Showing posts with label what does the doctor say. Show all posts
Showing posts with label what does the doctor say. Show all posts
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Ow, and ick
Well, good news. My uterus is normal. No polyps or fibroids or whatever. My right ovary has a promising looking follicular cyst that should pop out a nice little egg later this cycle, so I need you to send your most fertile vibes to my vagina, please. Thanks!
The procedure -- the sonohysterogram -- was ok. Mine was performed by a doctor who, if I had to guess, is about 150 years old. Imagine all the vaginas that dude has seen in his lifetime. Anyway, he shoves in the speculum and realizes my cervix is too high (I'm really beginning to wonder if my high cervix/tilted uterus is what's really behind my fertility issues, although I don't suppose that would explain the miscarriages). So his little helper nurse runs off to find a longer one. Oh, joy.
The longer one works fine. I feel some discomfort akin to menstrual cramps, in addition to the mental discomfort of two people staring at my vagina under fluorescent lights. He swabs my cervix with iodine, puts a catheter through it, and then helper nurse pumps saline solution into my uterus while he does a vaginal ultrasound. If there is any sort of prize for most use of the word vagina in a blog post, this one might win it.
So yeah. Kind of a relief, but still kind of a mystery. I'm gonna give this cycle a shot before I run off for karyotype (chromosome) testing and subject my husband to another sperm analysis. I'm just wondering if all this infertility crap is my dumb, shitty luck. It just would not surprise me.
Meanwhile I'm continuing to have my heart checked out and went this morning for my holter monitor, which is strangely more painful than an old man digging around in my vagina. That's because for the monitor they've got to scratch the points of contact on your chest and other areas on the torso. It really burns for like half an hour. After that it's just annoying because you feel like a robot. Going to the bathroom is especially fun.
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My echocardiogram is Saturday, and that's just an ultrasound of the heart. I fully expect these results to come back "normal," as in normal for me, slightly abnormal for others. I just want the doctor to say I should be fine to carry a pregnancy, which I expect he will. Not that I really care what he says; I'm still trying regardless, at least for the moment.
The procedure -- the sonohysterogram -- was ok. Mine was performed by a doctor who, if I had to guess, is about 150 years old. Imagine all the vaginas that dude has seen in his lifetime. Anyway, he shoves in the speculum and realizes my cervix is too high (I'm really beginning to wonder if my high cervix/tilted uterus is what's really behind my fertility issues, although I don't suppose that would explain the miscarriages). So his little helper nurse runs off to find a longer one. Oh, joy.
The longer one works fine. I feel some discomfort akin to menstrual cramps, in addition to the mental discomfort of two people staring at my vagina under fluorescent lights. He swabs my cervix with iodine, puts a catheter through it, and then helper nurse pumps saline solution into my uterus while he does a vaginal ultrasound. If there is any sort of prize for most use of the word vagina in a blog post, this one might win it.
So yeah. Kind of a relief, but still kind of a mystery. I'm gonna give this cycle a shot before I run off for karyotype (chromosome) testing and subject my husband to another sperm analysis. I'm just wondering if all this infertility crap is my dumb, shitty luck. It just would not surprise me.
Meanwhile I'm continuing to have my heart checked out and went this morning for my holter monitor, which is strangely more painful than an old man digging around in my vagina. That's because for the monitor they've got to scratch the points of contact on your chest and other areas on the torso. It really burns for like half an hour. After that it's just annoying because you feel like a robot. Going to the bathroom is especially fun.
.JPG)
My echocardiogram is Saturday, and that's just an ultrasound of the heart. I fully expect these results to come back "normal," as in normal for me, slightly abnormal for others. I just want the doctor to say I should be fine to carry a pregnancy, which I expect he will. Not that I really care what he says; I'm still trying regardless, at least for the moment.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
getting the ball rolling
What's that saying? The one about how if you have a problem with everyone, maybe you're the problem? After all, the common denominator is you.
I don't have a problem with everyone, but I do have a problem with most doctors. I've only ever had one doctor who helped me out. This was probably six years ago now, when I thought I was having panic attacks. She ran every test under the sun, and the results were super helpful. Turns out I wasn't having panic attacks; my heart is just a little jacked. Unfortunately, that doctor closed her practice.
I just saw a new doctor, and ... I am afraid to get my hopes up, you guys. I went in with my 7-page infertility questionnaire, told her it'd been over two years and two miscarriages, and said I wasn't interested in hearing about how I needed to have a third miscarriage in order for her to be concerned. She told me she wouldn't have said that, anyway. This may have to do with me being 34 years old now.
She is running 19 tests. Many of them are specifically for the repeated miscarriages.
And she's running the progesterone test, guys. Why has it taken me this long to find a doctor who would run a series of progesterone tests? I've always suspected progesterone was the issue.
I'll also get a heart check-up to make sure I'm OK to actually carry a child since it puts stress on the heart.
Of course, I need to wait for the start of the next cycle before I can do any of these tests. Many of them need to be taken on Day 3 of my cycle. And when do you suppose Day 3 is projected to fall for me, since my cycle has been spot-on for the last several months? That's right. Christmas Day. This Murphy's Law shit is the story of my life. I've just called and confirmed that yes, all of the labs will be closed on Christmas. As they should be. So I will probably have to wait until the following cycle.
It's ok, really. I do feel very rushed to get my results, but it's been over two years already. Another month won't hurt.
I don't have a problem with everyone, but I do have a problem with most doctors. I've only ever had one doctor who helped me out. This was probably six years ago now, when I thought I was having panic attacks. She ran every test under the sun, and the results were super helpful. Turns out I wasn't having panic attacks; my heart is just a little jacked. Unfortunately, that doctor closed her practice.
I just saw a new doctor, and ... I am afraid to get my hopes up, you guys. I went in with my 7-page infertility questionnaire, told her it'd been over two years and two miscarriages, and said I wasn't interested in hearing about how I needed to have a third miscarriage in order for her to be concerned. She told me she wouldn't have said that, anyway. This may have to do with me being 34 years old now.
She is running 19 tests. Many of them are specifically for the repeated miscarriages.
And she's running the progesterone test, guys. Why has it taken me this long to find a doctor who would run a series of progesterone tests? I've always suspected progesterone was the issue.
I'll also get a heart check-up to make sure I'm OK to actually carry a child since it puts stress on the heart.
Of course, I need to wait for the start of the next cycle before I can do any of these tests. Many of them need to be taken on Day 3 of my cycle. And when do you suppose Day 3 is projected to fall for me, since my cycle has been spot-on for the last several months? That's right. Christmas Day. This Murphy's Law shit is the story of my life. I've just called and confirmed that yes, all of the labs will be closed on Christmas. As they should be. So I will probably have to wait until the following cycle.
It's ok, really. I do feel very rushed to get my results, but it's been over two years already. Another month won't hurt.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
please hold
Hurry up and wait is the order of the hour. It's a good news/weird news week.
For starters, my OB (the bitch with a capital C) is leaving the medical group I go to so she can be a full time mommy. How nice for her. That sentence wasn't dripping with acidic sarcasm. In opposite land.
Anyway, it's fine, because as I say, she's a total cuntwozzle and I am just gonna pick a different OB in the same practice. Probably.
Probably, because yesterday my husband's old company acquired his new company, and our insurance is going to change. Things can only get better in that department -- nothing can be worse than "We're sorry your vagina doesn't work, now here is zero dollars to help with that."
So in anticipation of better coverage, I canceled a physical I'd scheduled at the fertility clinic on Tuesday, along with a round of blood tests that would have cost a couple grand. I'm OK with waiting another month or so.
In other fertility clinic news, they keep having this ignoramous call me and tell me things, when she clearly has no idea what she's talking about. It's becoming grating. She called Monday to tell me one of the doctors says two miscarriages in a row does not equal "a pattern of miscarriages." In their world, perhaps. Anyway, because of that, they do not feel any additional testing is warranted. I didn't argue with her because as I said, she knows nothing. I'd planned to attack the NP doing my physical for information yesterday, but that'll have to wait.
Finally, I pored over Making Babies and upped my vitamin intake to the level the book recommends. I will probably ovulate this cycle, despite the miscarriage, if the CM I'm seeing is any indication. I'm seeing more than normal, and I can only attribute this to the vitamins. I'm taking a lot more folic acid, and I've added vitamin C, NAC, and coQ10 to the mix.
The ignoramous on the phone says they don't generally recommend trying to conceive again directly following a miscarriage blah blah I've heard it all before. I wonder if three miscarriages equals a pattern? Hm. I'm not interested in finding out but I also wonder if it's possible two miscarriages in a row really isn't a pattern and there's maybe nothing wrong with me. I can clearly get pregnant; staying pregnant is the trick. I'm still losing tiny bits of weight at a time and am down about ten pounds, so hopefully that helps whatever might be jacking me up.
In any case, that's what's up right now. There probably won't be much to report until we get the insurance thing worked out. Til then!
For starters, my OB (the bitch with a capital C) is leaving the medical group I go to so she can be a full time mommy. How nice for her. That sentence wasn't dripping with acidic sarcasm. In opposite land.
Anyway, it's fine, because as I say, she's a total cuntwozzle and I am just gonna pick a different OB in the same practice. Probably.
Probably, because yesterday my husband's old company acquired his new company, and our insurance is going to change. Things can only get better in that department -- nothing can be worse than "We're sorry your vagina doesn't work, now here is zero dollars to help with that."
So in anticipation of better coverage, I canceled a physical I'd scheduled at the fertility clinic on Tuesday, along with a round of blood tests that would have cost a couple grand. I'm OK with waiting another month or so.
In other fertility clinic news, they keep having this ignoramous call me and tell me things, when she clearly has no idea what she's talking about. It's becoming grating. She called Monday to tell me one of the doctors says two miscarriages in a row does not equal "a pattern of miscarriages." In their world, perhaps. Anyway, because of that, they do not feel any additional testing is warranted. I didn't argue with her because as I said, she knows nothing. I'd planned to attack the NP doing my physical for information yesterday, but that'll have to wait.
Finally, I pored over Making Babies and upped my vitamin intake to the level the book recommends. I will probably ovulate this cycle, despite the miscarriage, if the CM I'm seeing is any indication. I'm seeing more than normal, and I can only attribute this to the vitamins. I'm taking a lot more folic acid, and I've added vitamin C, NAC, and coQ10 to the mix.
The ignoramous on the phone says they don't generally recommend trying to conceive again directly following a miscarriage blah blah I've heard it all before. I wonder if three miscarriages equals a pattern? Hm. I'm not interested in finding out but I also wonder if it's possible two miscarriages in a row really isn't a pattern and there's maybe nothing wrong with me. I can clearly get pregnant; staying pregnant is the trick. I'm still losing tiny bits of weight at a time and am down about ten pounds, so hopefully that helps whatever might be jacking me up.
In any case, that's what's up right now. There probably won't be much to report until we get the insurance thing worked out. Til then!
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Things I needed to hear
We had our consultation with the fertility specialist, Dr. A, and we really liked him. I went in to the meeting feeling irritable and left feeling hopeful. So that's definitely something.
And that's despite the fact that he spent at least 20 minutes talking about how I need to lose weight. He said it in the nicest way possible, really. And it's not like it was surprising news. I'd been planning to ask Dr. A about how my weight might be affecting my fertility, in case he was one of these docs who's too embarrassed to discuss it. Turns out, he's not.
He pointed out that weighing too much can result in higher miscarriage rates and make it much more difficult to become pregnant in the first place. He said losing weight would double my chances of conception. So really, I have no excuse now. None.
Other highlights:
- I'll be having a number of tests run. They include: a physical, a heart check-up (I have an arrhythmia and enlarged heart valve), a bunch of blood tests to check hormone levels and for STDs, at least one ultrasound to check endometrial thickness, and probably a hysterosalpingogram and a hysterosonogram (which: yikes).
- My husband will donate more sperm to the cause even though we finally found out his motility and count are way above normal -- information my gynecologist mysteriously refused to tell us.
- Dr. A suspects PCOS. He says treatment would likely be metformin and clomiphene.
- Dr. A emphasizes eating of whole foods (not packaged), getting plenty of sleep, exercise, keeping caffeine and alcohol consumption fairly low, and limiting toxic exposure to stuff like pesticides, solvents, beauty salon crap, etc.
- Dr. A has freed me from lying around in bed, waiting for sperm to magically swim to the right place. For that matter, he's freed me from the missionary position. BAM!
- Sex should be happening every 1.5 to 2.5 days mid-cycle. He says every day is fine, but he refrains from telling people that because he's worried they'll get divorced. Ha!
Finally, Dr. A says my "chances are excellent." I know we haven't run any tests yet, but I feel relieved and hopeful, nonetheless.
And that's despite the fact that he spent at least 20 minutes talking about how I need to lose weight. He said it in the nicest way possible, really. And it's not like it was surprising news. I'd been planning to ask Dr. A about how my weight might be affecting my fertility, in case he was one of these docs who's too embarrassed to discuss it. Turns out, he's not.
He pointed out that weighing too much can result in higher miscarriage rates and make it much more difficult to become pregnant in the first place. He said losing weight would double my chances of conception. So really, I have no excuse now. None.
Other highlights:
- I'll be having a number of tests run. They include: a physical, a heart check-up (I have an arrhythmia and enlarged heart valve), a bunch of blood tests to check hormone levels and for STDs, at least one ultrasound to check endometrial thickness, and probably a hysterosalpingogram and a hysterosonogram (which: yikes).
- My husband will donate more sperm to the cause even though we finally found out his motility and count are way above normal -- information my gynecologist mysteriously refused to tell us.
- Dr. A suspects PCOS. He says treatment would likely be metformin and clomiphene.
- Dr. A emphasizes eating of whole foods (not packaged), getting plenty of sleep, exercise, keeping caffeine and alcohol consumption fairly low, and limiting toxic exposure to stuff like pesticides, solvents, beauty salon crap, etc.
- Dr. A has freed me from lying around in bed, waiting for sperm to magically swim to the right place. For that matter, he's freed me from the missionary position. BAM!
- Sex should be happening every 1.5 to 2.5 days mid-cycle. He says every day is fine, but he refrains from telling people that because he's worried they'll get divorced. Ha!
Finally, Dr. A says my "chances are excellent." I know we haven't run any tests yet, but I feel relieved and hopeful, nonetheless.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
A few pre-appointment thoughts
My consultation is next Tuesday. I'm still nervous, but possibly more annoyed than anything else. The whole "it's not fair" thing. Nope, life isn't fair, is it sweetheart?
So here are the thoughts I'll just bullet-point for today, since they're a bit jumbled for now.
So here are the thoughts I'll just bullet-point for today, since they're a bit jumbled for now.
- I hope that whatever treatment and tests I need don't exceed what's in our health savings account. Although we will pay whatever we need to, if we exceed the HSA funds, we are on the hook for all costs since infertility treatments aren't covered. Well, of course they're not! Why would they be?! Don't get me started.
- I still need to get my records from my OB sent over. In speaking with the fertility clinic's rep, she asked if I had copies of previous test results or if I knew the numbers on the results. Which made me hate my OB just that much more. She basically refused to tell me the results of our tests a number of times, despite me repeatedly asking her. Just another instance of doctors believing they know better than their patients, and that patients are on a need-to-know basis. What a bitch.
- I feel like I'm being dragged into this by my ankles, while I clutch desperately for a handhold.
- I could have been born a boy. Sometimes I think about that when I'm fed up with being a woman.
- I stopped taking my temperatures, even though I know it's valuable information for the doctor. I think I'm just pissed off about the whole thing. I give up. Fuck taking temperatures. It's never helped me before. Fuck laying around for half an hour after sex. I have a friend who got pregnant after having sex, then drinking fourteen pina coladas while sitting in a hot tub. But I have to lie in bed with my legs in the air? Fuck that.
- It's funny who in my life cares (or seems to care) about this stuff and who doesn't.
- These pre-appointment moments are filled with "what extremes would I go to" hypothetical scenarios. Surrogacy, egg donation, sperm donation, adoption, IVF. You begin to wonder.
- This was never in the plan for me or my friends. Don't ask me what was; I just know infertility was not. I resent its presence.
- On the other hand, I'm brilliantly lucky to be able to seek treatment for this. I am grateful for that.
- I'm tired.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Scheduling
For those (most, if not all) commenters who suggested I make the appointment with a fertility specialist immediately, I must explain something. We have probably not met, or else you perhaps do not know me well because if you did, you would know I live in 1) a perpetual state of denial and 2) a perpetual state of procrastination. So making the appointment before my period started was simply impossible. I'm not saying I did the right thing; I'm just explaining my neuroses.
So what happened was I started my period late Thursday night. Friday I went on a camping trip (which: what could be better? Camping while on your period? Obviously good times). Saturday I came home. Sunday I recovered from not sleeping on the camping trip. Monday I sorted out my insurance questions. Tuesday I scheduled a "new patient consultation" at a local clinic. The appointment is two weeks out, on the 26th.
Which leaves us at today: Wednesday.
I think we should play a game called "What's Your Damage?" We should guess what my problem is (if we are so inclined). For those who are familiar with symptoms/temperatures/fertility monitors, it might be fun. So here's my list of "ailments."
- been trying 2 years, with 1 miscarriage.
- 33 years old
- overweight
- fertility monitor says I ovulate
- basal temps suggest I do not ovulate, and there's no rise in temp in the second half of the cycle.
- cycles range from 24 to 32 days
- periods are not debilitating -- crampy first two days, then fine.
- no family history of infertility
- husband's sperm has been checked and is fine
So, whatcha think? I think high possibilities are progesterone deficiency and/or PCOS. Worst-case nightmare material = I am out of eggs/eggs are not viable.
Questions? Thoughts?
So what happened was I started my period late Thursday night. Friday I went on a camping trip (which: what could be better? Camping while on your period? Obviously good times). Saturday I came home. Sunday I recovered from not sleeping on the camping trip. Monday I sorted out my insurance questions. Tuesday I scheduled a "new patient consultation" at a local clinic. The appointment is two weeks out, on the 26th.
Which leaves us at today: Wednesday.
I think we should play a game called "What's Your Damage?" We should guess what my problem is (if we are so inclined). For those who are familiar with symptoms/temperatures/fertility monitors, it might be fun. So here's my list of "ailments."
- been trying 2 years, with 1 miscarriage.
- 33 years old
- overweight
- fertility monitor says I ovulate
- basal temps suggest I do not ovulate, and there's no rise in temp in the second half of the cycle.
- cycles range from 24 to 32 days
- periods are not debilitating -- crampy first two days, then fine.
- no family history of infertility
- husband's sperm has been checked and is fine
So, whatcha think? I think high possibilities are progesterone deficiency and/or PCOS. Worst-case nightmare material = I am out of eggs/eggs are not viable.
Questions? Thoughts?
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Get on it
There are no changes since last week.
Temps are still too low. Ovulation is unlikely to have occurred. Aunt Flo should arrive shortly.
And my plan to wait until July has been booted out the window.
Because I'm making an appointment with a fertility specialist as soon as I get my period.
And I'm nervous as hell about it.
Temps are still too low. Ovulation is unlikely to have occurred. Aunt Flo should arrive shortly.
And my plan to wait until July has been booted out the window.
Because I'm making an appointment with a fertility specialist as soon as I get my period.
And I'm nervous as hell about it.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Baby Steps to Babyville
It’s been three weeks since the surgery. I would say things are mostly back to normal other than the fact that a.) At times, I still feel more tired than usual, and b.) I’m not sure when I’ll get my period again. So, what’s next in this great adventure? Well, the day of the laparoscopy, John and the doc talked while I was still asleep. Even though everything went great, the doctor wanted to send us home with a prescription for Clomid.
Now, I don’t have anything against Clomid expect everyone I know who has ever taken it felt mildly to severely crazy while on it, and most of them didn’t end up pregnant. Life is hard enough, so I would prefer to avoid adding any unnecessary mood swings to the mix, if at all possible. I fully acknowledge I might change my mind about this at some point, but I’m not at that point. Knowing this, John turned down the good doctor, which probably doesn’t happen all too often because John said he seemed surprised.
I trust this doctor, so I wanted to discuss his recommendation for Clomid a bit more during my follow up. I expressed my concerns, and he sent me home with two prescriptions. One for Glumetza (Metformin) and one for Letrozole, in case the Glumetza alone doesn’t work.
It’s nice to know I have these options, but after a lot of thought, I’m not ready to take either right at this moment. For some reason I had it in my head that Glumetza (which is supposed to treat insulin resistance in women with PCOS) would be the equivalent of a baby aspirin.
Then I started googling the evil Internet. It’s possible I wouldn’t have any side effects, but if I did, it would most likely be in the form of nausea and/or diarrhea. Call me crazy, but if I’m going to take drugs, I would like them to make me feel better not worse.
I’m not even going to discuss Letrozole, which is supposed to be like Clomid but more mild. Wikipedia says it’s used to treat breast cancer, and after I saw that I really didn’t want to know anymore. Honestly, before I start pumping my body full of powerful drugs, I would like to know if the surgery alone does the trick.
So, it’s back to natural remedies for now.
I’m going to give my body a chance to fully recover and wait until my next cycle begins (the doctor warned the laparoscopy would likely throw things way off). Once I’m back on track, I might wait one more full cycle before starting the Glumetza.
In the meantime, I’m focusing on significantly improving my diet. (That tiny bit of cancer has me drinking wheatgrass and green smoothies.) I’m going to keep the supplements simple and focus on just taking my prenatals and fish oil. The authors of Making Babies stressed those were the two most important. Well, most important other than the most natural remedy of all ~ the fun part. (Wink. Wink.)
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
A two-month trial
Firstly, a public service announcement: If you guys are into fertility stuff and aren't watching Giuliana & Bill on the E! network, you should be. It's nice to see someone who has genuinely struggled to conceive go through the same things us "normal" folks go through, ie. when everyone you know is pregnant/has children. But more importantly I saw a preview for an upcoming episode in which she mentions the very book that Libby, Christina and I are following in an attempt to conceive naturally -- Making Babies. I am really curious to see what she thinks of the book and if she applies its principles in her life. If she wants my unsolicited advice, she probably needs to gain just a little bit of weight.
Anyway! You might recall that last week my doctor told my husband and I that everything is normal so far. Further tests on me might reveal the very issues that have been preventing me from conceiving, and my doctor's recommended that I go see a specialist if I don't get pregnant this cycle.
I, however, have thought about it and decided that I am going to wait until October to submit to further testing. It's only a couple months away and gives me a chance to try to establish some really healthy habits and truly employ the Making Babies recommendations. I chose October because that's my birthday month. I'll be 33, and will probably be more than ready to have more blood drawn, etc., if I haven't managed to conceive naturally by then.
Meanwhile, my cycles have thrown me a couple of curve balls, just when I thought I had them figured out. The last one was longer than expected, and this time I think my cycle has even confused The Machine (my way-too-expensive Clearblue fertility monitor). For a few months I reached peak fertility on Day 17, and ovulated on Day 18 or 19. I assumed this cycle would be exactly the same, believing I'd achieved an actual regular cycle, which was more than welcome after a year of playing Who knows when I might ovulate?! Not to mention: Who knows when I might start my period?!
So The Machine was telling me what it always does on Days 10-13: Low fertility. My toilet paper was telling me a different story -- a lovely tale of fertile cervical mucus. Which was confusing, but had happened before. I expected a reading of perhaps elevated fertility on Day 14, but instead The Machine suddenly bounded straight to the top of the chart and said I had reached my peak fertile day. *ALERT! ALERT!* That's what it always feels like when I see that I've reached my peak fertile day --- drop everything, including your drawers! Get busy!
In any case, I was a bit concerned. How did I not have the estrogen surge that would indicate high fertility before reaching my peak fertile day? And why was my peak fertile day three days before it has been for the last few months? I turned to The Machine's instruction booklet. Which, by the way, was written by idiots. I won't mince words. The Machine is very easy to use, but in reading the instruction booklet you'd think you were being trained to detonate a nuclear missile.
Lo and behold, in the FAQ section, I found this question:
My monitor changed straight from Low to Peak Fertility this cycle. What does this mean?
The booklet (un)helpfully answers:
This may happen occasionally, for example when a rise in estrogen is detected on the same day as your LH surge or if the Monitor does not detect a change in your estrogen before you LG surge. This can happen if you miss a test, or perform a test incorrectly, or if you have a very short cycle following longer cycles.
I did not miss any tests, or perform any tests incorrectly, nor did I have a very short cycle following longer cycles. I guess I just have to be satisfied with the blanket answer that the rise in estrogen was simply not detected until the LH (lutenizing hormone) surge. Which pisses me off because I want to know WHY. Is it possible there is an underlying issue that would cause something like that?
I guess these are the kinds of things that good little girls who let doctors poke and prod them get to find out. So I guess I'll be finding out sometime around October.
Anyway! You might recall that last week my doctor told my husband and I that everything is normal so far. Further tests on me might reveal the very issues that have been preventing me from conceiving, and my doctor's recommended that I go see a specialist if I don't get pregnant this cycle.
I, however, have thought about it and decided that I am going to wait until October to submit to further testing. It's only a couple months away and gives me a chance to try to establish some really healthy habits and truly employ the Making Babies recommendations. I chose October because that's my birthday month. I'll be 33, and will probably be more than ready to have more blood drawn, etc., if I haven't managed to conceive naturally by then.
Meanwhile, my cycles have thrown me a couple of curve balls, just when I thought I had them figured out. The last one was longer than expected, and this time I think my cycle has even confused The Machine (my way-too-expensive Clearblue fertility monitor). For a few months I reached peak fertility on Day 17, and ovulated on Day 18 or 19. I assumed this cycle would be exactly the same, believing I'd achieved an actual regular cycle, which was more than welcome after a year of playing Who knows when I might ovulate?! Not to mention: Who knows when I might start my period?!
So The Machine was telling me what it always does on Days 10-13: Low fertility. My toilet paper was telling me a different story -- a lovely tale of fertile cervical mucus. Which was confusing, but had happened before. I expected a reading of perhaps elevated fertility on Day 14, but instead The Machine suddenly bounded straight to the top of the chart and said I had reached my peak fertile day. *ALERT! ALERT!* That's what it always feels like when I see that I've reached my peak fertile day --- drop everything, including your drawers! Get busy!
In any case, I was a bit concerned. How did I not have the estrogen surge that would indicate high fertility before reaching my peak fertile day? And why was my peak fertile day three days before it has been for the last few months? I turned to The Machine's instruction booklet. Which, by the way, was written by idiots. I won't mince words. The Machine is very easy to use, but in reading the instruction booklet you'd think you were being trained to detonate a nuclear missile.
Lo and behold, in the FAQ section, I found this question:
My monitor changed straight from Low to Peak Fertility this cycle. What does this mean?
The booklet (un)helpfully answers:
This may happen occasionally, for example when a rise in estrogen is detected on the same day as your LH surge or if the Monitor does not detect a change in your estrogen before you LG surge. This can happen if you miss a test, or perform a test incorrectly, or if you have a very short cycle following longer cycles.
I did not miss any tests, or perform any tests incorrectly, nor did I have a very short cycle following longer cycles. I guess I just have to be satisfied with the blanket answer that the rise in estrogen was simply not detected until the LH (lutenizing hormone) surge. Which pisses me off because I want to know WHY. Is it possible there is an underlying issue that would cause something like that?
I guess these are the kinds of things that good little girls who let doctors poke and prod them get to find out. So I guess I'll be finding out sometime around October.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Results: Round 1
I had Day 3 blood work last week and on Friday my doctor's office called to say what I knew they would: Everything looked normal.
Then my husband submitted his own "sample," amid much angst about his manliness, and the doctor's office called Tuesday to tell me what I knew they would: His sperm is normal.
Now they want to schedule the next round of testing on me, which I imagine will include more blood work and an ultrasound or something of the sort. I haven't scheduled it yet. I'm waiting ...
I know Day 3 blood work means next to nothing. It means I haven't entered into early menopause, which is fabulous news. But it doesn't tell me anything else, at all. I hope Christina will not mind when I tell you that she has had Day 3 blood work done more than once, and all times it returned normal. This in a woman who has PCOS and endometriosis.
It occurs to me that I should send my doctor information about basal body temperatures I've tracked over the last six months or so, and clue her in on my own suspicions about progesterone deficiency. I will. I'm waiting ...
I guess I feel like I'm at a fork in the road. The road I most certainly will go down involves lots of poking and prodding. The road I want to go down involves naturally and happily conceiving a child without thinking too hard about it. These early tests are a bit deceiving, I think, in offering hope that everything could be normal, and it simply hasn't happened yet. A few more months might be all it will take.
Making Babies says that in any given cycle, a normally healthy couple has a 20 to 25 percent chance of conceiving if they're having sex two to three times a week. Chances do not go up just because you try over and over, month after month. I've never been known to be extremely lucky. Perhaps the coin is just landing wrong every month.
If I have to continue down this the path of medical testing, I'd like to be in optimal health. Is it wrong for me to wait a couple months until I feel optimally healthy? Is it realistic for me to believe I will ever be healthier than I am right now?
I hope it is.
So that's that. Round 1 is done. Round 2 is imminent. My brain is tired and needs to figure out what it's willing to do, and when.
Then my husband submitted his own "sample," amid much angst about his manliness, and the doctor's office called Tuesday to tell me what I knew they would: His sperm is normal.
Now they want to schedule the next round of testing on me, which I imagine will include more blood work and an ultrasound or something of the sort. I haven't scheduled it yet. I'm waiting ...
I know Day 3 blood work means next to nothing. It means I haven't entered into early menopause, which is fabulous news. But it doesn't tell me anything else, at all. I hope Christina will not mind when I tell you that she has had Day 3 blood work done more than once, and all times it returned normal. This in a woman who has PCOS and endometriosis.
It occurs to me that I should send my doctor information about basal body temperatures I've tracked over the last six months or so, and clue her in on my own suspicions about progesterone deficiency. I will. I'm waiting ...
I guess I feel like I'm at a fork in the road. The road I most certainly will go down involves lots of poking and prodding. The road I want to go down involves naturally and happily conceiving a child without thinking too hard about it. These early tests are a bit deceiving, I think, in offering hope that everything could be normal, and it simply hasn't happened yet. A few more months might be all it will take.
Making Babies says that in any given cycle, a normally healthy couple has a 20 to 25 percent chance of conceiving if they're having sex two to three times a week. Chances do not go up just because you try over and over, month after month. I've never been known to be extremely lucky. Perhaps the coin is just landing wrong every month.
If I have to continue down this the path of medical testing, I'd like to be in optimal health. Is it wrong for me to wait a couple months until I feel optimally healthy? Is it realistic for me to believe I will ever be healthier than I am right now?
I hope it is.
So that's that. Round 1 is done. Round 2 is imminent. My brain is tired and needs to figure out what it's willing to do, and when.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Modern Medicine
I showered, shaved my legs, flat ironed my hair and dressed in the biggest, cutest sweats I own before John and I headed out the door at 5:30 a.m. last Thursday. We arrived before the surgery center even opened, so we snapped a few photos of ourselves outside. I was, shockingly, not nervous, not even a little bit.
My laparoscopy was scheduled for 7:30 a.m., and I was wheeled into the operating room at 7:45 a.m. The surgery lasted 2 hours. I was afraid I would wake up in pain, but I didn't. I woke up to the sound of John and the nurse talking. As I was coming to, I could feel John holding my hand and rubbing my shoulder. He told me later that every time he rubbed my shoulder my heart rate would increase on the monitor.
The doctor told John the surgery went great and our chances of conception are excellent. He removed endometriosis, drilled on my ovaries, checked my fallopian tubes (which are clear) and removed my appendix. I knew prior to the surgery my appendix might be removed if it had endometriosis on it, but I was still surprised to find out I had undergone an appendectomy. When I asked the nurse if my appendix had endometriosis, she said it was sent to pathology, which I thought was slightly odd.
I expected to be sent home 2 hours or so after surgery, but I had to wait more than 7 hours because they won’t let you leave until you pee the required 100 ccs. Not that I minded. I alternated between sleep and conversation and wasn't at all aware of the time. I was barely in any discomfort at all.
By the time we left the surgery center, it was after 5 p.m., and we had to stop at the pharmacy on our way home. We hit rush hour traffic, and I kept my head in a barf bag (which I had packed just in case). I never threw up, but I felt nauseated the whole drive.
When we arrived at my parents' home (where I have been recovering), the real fun began --- horrifying pain shooting through my right shoulder and neck. Big thanks to those who warned me about this crazy kind of gas pain. It hurt so bad I bit my other arm. The pain lessened significantly every day and it wasn’t constant, but it lasted about 5 days. It really was the absolute worst part.
The good news is the percocet not only helps with the pain, it helps you forget the pain even happened. Of course, it gave me a huge headache so I switched to ibuprofen Saturday night. I also had to remain on a liquid diet until Saturday morning because you can’t eat until you pass gas. (Anyone else see a trend regarding my bodily functions? I am still waiting to poop.)
Other than that, the recovery has been extremely smooth.
I saw my doctor on Tuesday. He confirmed a diagnosis of stage 3 endometriosis and PCOS. I asked him if he found endometriosis on my appendix, if that is why it was removed.
“No. What I found on your appendix was much worse,” my doctor said.
“OK,” I replied.
“Your appendix had cancer on it.”
Do not be alarmed. What was found was a teensy, tinsy, 4 mm smidge of cancer. Had this spot of C been 2 cm or bigger, it would be a different story. Still, hearing a doctor say the word cancer makes you want to run out and eat something healthy.
I’m also in awe of the perfect timing of it all and thankful to God for modern medicine.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Better never than late
I had this whole thing written about how my period was really late this month and I took a pregnancy test and for a second I thought it was telling me I was pregnant and then I realized it was negative and then I woke up in a puddle of blood the next morning, but let's just skip over the woe-is-me bull shit, shall we?
Because while I am pissed off and I do feel sorry for myself, I don't need or want you feeling sorry for me, because oh my god. That makes it even worse.
And also, fuzzy baby heads make me want to drive off a cliff. But that's neither here nor there.
The new news, other than NOT being pregnant (again, shockingly) is that in a couple of days I get to have my very first fertility tests and holy shit am I ready to find out what the hell is going on. It's only a blood test, so I'm trying not to expect too much, but still. It's Step 1. If nothing shows up in Step 1, I might go on a bender, but then I'll proceed semi-calmly to Step 2, whatever in holy hell that is.
Sidenote: I did not mean for this post to be as angry (if not angrier) as last week's. This was going to be the hopeful post. So: sorry.
Anyway, if my doctor doesn't suck, I should have results by this time next week. I might have a clue by this time next week. Which would be so radical and new for us.
On the other hand, we may have nothing. Which would be the same as it ever was.
Meanwhile, I've been realizing that I've all but abandoned the principles laid out in "Making Babies." The only things I'm still doing are taking supplements and tracking ovulation.
The book calls itself "a proven three month program for maximum fertility," but at no time since I bought this book in February have I adhered strictly to the program, or even eighty percent to the program, as the book advises. How can I possibly expect maximum fertility, in that case?
So I'm going to start over, at the beginning. Initially I tore through the book so quickly, searching for answers, there was no way I fully absorbed all of the information in it.
"One in eight couples in the United States has trouble getting or staying pregnant ... Right now more than nine million American women seek treatment for fertility issues every year, and their partners need treatment, too."
This book was like salve on a burn when I first cracked it open and read those words. I think it's time to read them again.
Because while I am pissed off and I do feel sorry for myself, I don't need or want you feeling sorry for me, because oh my god. That makes it even worse.
And also, fuzzy baby heads make me want to drive off a cliff. But that's neither here nor there.
The new news, other than NOT being pregnant (again, shockingly) is that in a couple of days I get to have my very first fertility tests and holy shit am I ready to find out what the hell is going on. It's only a blood test, so I'm trying not to expect too much, but still. It's Step 1. If nothing shows up in Step 1, I might go on a bender, but then I'll proceed semi-calmly to Step 2, whatever in holy hell that is.
Sidenote: I did not mean for this post to be as angry (if not angrier) as last week's. This was going to be the hopeful post. So: sorry.
Anyway, if my doctor doesn't suck, I should have results by this time next week. I might have a clue by this time next week. Which would be so radical and new for us.
On the other hand, we may have nothing. Which would be the same as it ever was.
Meanwhile, I've been realizing that I've all but abandoned the principles laid out in "Making Babies." The only things I'm still doing are taking supplements and tracking ovulation.
The book calls itself "a proven three month program for maximum fertility," but at no time since I bought this book in February have I adhered strictly to the program, or even eighty percent to the program, as the book advises. How can I possibly expect maximum fertility, in that case?
So I'm going to start over, at the beginning. Initially I tore through the book so quickly, searching for answers, there was no way I fully absorbed all of the information in it.
"One in eight couples in the United States has trouble getting or staying pregnant ... Right now more than nine million American women seek treatment for fertility issues every year, and their partners need treatment, too."
This book was like salve on a burn when I first cracked it open and read those words. I think it's time to read them again.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Day 26
Every now and then my husband and I will be sitting around talking about this silly fertility thing and one of us (usually me, because I'm a masochist) says: What if we can't have kids?
Like, if the doctor tells us: You have no sperm. You have no uterus. You cannot naturally have a child.
My husband always says: Then I'm buying a car.
And I always say: I'll go on a trip to (fill in the blank. Usually Spain or Italy). Sometimes I say I'll get more cats. Sometimes I say I'll get a real job. Non-mommies are supposed to have real jobs, in offices. Right?
Then I'll usually ask: What about adoption? And we both kind of look at each other with a Meh look. Adoption is wonderful. Is adoption for us? We don't know until we've exhausted every option.
These conversations are all extraordinarily premature, but I like to think worst case scenario so I can prepare myself in case it really is the worst case scenario. For starters, we don't know what the problem is, and once we do know I imagine there will be options like medication, surgery, IUI, and IVF.
Which I don't even want to deal with. Part of me feels like if I can't conceive a kid completely naturally, that I don't even want to try medication and all the rest of it. Which is crazy talk, I know. But do you ever just get completely sick of even thinking about it? Sick, bitter, tired, etc.
Infertiles are always joking about their situations. Someone on Twitter the other day said something like: I should have been a teenage crack whore. The implication being that then getting pregnant would have been a piece of cake.
I should have been Casey Anthony. I should have been the woman who lives behind me who cusses and screams at her kids every day. If I had cancer, I'd probably be able to get pregnant. If I were an alcoholic this would be a non-issue.
If you think about that stuff too long, you'll probably start feeling how I feel right now: nauseated and sad. No one ever said life was fair or easy, and actually, I specifically recall being told by various sources throughout my childhood that I wouldn't always get what I wanted and that would have to be the way things were, period.
Today is Day 26 and my period will probably show up some time in the next four days. I hurt my shoulder over the weekend and before I decided to take an ibuprofen, I remarked to my husband that pregnant women are not supposed to take ibuprofen. We agreed that I am not pregnant. No need to pee on a stick to confirm it; we just know it. I took the ibuprofen.
Day 3 of the next cycle, I'll finally be getting my blood taken. My husband will make a "donation." Part of me hopes for a diagnosis. Most of me thinks everything will come back normal. All of me is tired of thinking about it.
Like, if the doctor tells us: You have no sperm. You have no uterus. You cannot naturally have a child.
My husband always says: Then I'm buying a car.
And I always say: I'll go on a trip to (fill in the blank. Usually Spain or Italy). Sometimes I say I'll get more cats. Sometimes I say I'll get a real job. Non-mommies are supposed to have real jobs, in offices. Right?
Then I'll usually ask: What about adoption? And we both kind of look at each other with a Meh look. Adoption is wonderful. Is adoption for us? We don't know until we've exhausted every option.
These conversations are all extraordinarily premature, but I like to think worst case scenario so I can prepare myself in case it really is the worst case scenario. For starters, we don't know what the problem is, and once we do know I imagine there will be options like medication, surgery, IUI, and IVF.
Which I don't even want to deal with. Part of me feels like if I can't conceive a kid completely naturally, that I don't even want to try medication and all the rest of it. Which is crazy talk, I know. But do you ever just get completely sick of even thinking about it? Sick, bitter, tired, etc.
Infertiles are always joking about their situations. Someone on Twitter the other day said something like: I should have been a teenage crack whore. The implication being that then getting pregnant would have been a piece of cake.
I should have been Casey Anthony. I should have been the woman who lives behind me who cusses and screams at her kids every day. If I had cancer, I'd probably be able to get pregnant. If I were an alcoholic this would be a non-issue.
If you think about that stuff too long, you'll probably start feeling how I feel right now: nauseated and sad. No one ever said life was fair or easy, and actually, I specifically recall being told by various sources throughout my childhood that I wouldn't always get what I wanted and that would have to be the way things were, period.
Today is Day 26 and my period will probably show up some time in the next four days. I hurt my shoulder over the weekend and before I decided to take an ibuprofen, I remarked to my husband that pregnant women are not supposed to take ibuprofen. We agreed that I am not pregnant. No need to pee on a stick to confirm it; we just know it. I took the ibuprofen.
Day 3 of the next cycle, I'll finally be getting my blood taken. My husband will make a "donation." Part of me hopes for a diagnosis. Most of me thinks everything will come back normal. All of me is tired of thinking about it.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Doctor, Doctor, Mr. MD
I took your advice. I shaved my legs. I painted my nails. I gathered up all the information I have regarding my own medical history.
I arrived at my doctor’s appointment 30 minutes early with extra glossy lips and a clip board in hand. I typed up a 3-year account of my menstrual cycle and a list of all my recent supplements. I filled out the medical history form the office had sent me prior to the appointment. I even brought in all my supplements (except the royal jelly, which requires refrigeration) and my copy of the Making Babies book, neither of which were necessary.
I arrived at my doctor’s appointment 30 minutes early with extra glossy lips and a clip board in hand. I typed up a 3-year account of my menstrual cycle and a list of all my recent supplements. I filled out the medical history form the office had sent me prior to the appointment. I even brought in all my supplements (except the royal jelly, which requires refrigeration) and my copy of the Making Babies book, neither of which were necessary.
I felt as prepared as I would ever be. And I figured I knew exactly how this would go down. By the end of the appointment, I would have doctor’s orders for six weeks worth of blood tests, and in two months, I would be back in his office for the results. I was wrong.
John and I met with the doctor in his office. He looked through my medical history and asked me questions. He is soft spoken and kind, and we liked him right away. It helped that we were referred to him by dear friends, so we already felt a level of trust and confidence in him that we wouldn’t normally feel toward a stranger.
After our initial discussion, we went to an exam room. Let’s just say it wasn’t the most fun I’ve ever had. By the end, I felt nauseous and faint. But the worst of it didn’t last long, and it was worth it. I now know some important things I didn’t know before. First, there are multiple cysts on both my ovaries. Second, the doctor believes I have endometriosis and PCOS.
The PCOS part wasn’t a surprise, and because I suspected PCOS, I never really thought about endometriosis. It didn’t occur to me that both might be at play. So, after peeling myself off the exam table and getting dressed, John and I met back up with the doctor in his office. This is where he gave us his professional recommendation, which is to have a laparoscopy as soon as possible.
One thing he said, which I really appreciated, was the importance of having this surgery for my overall health (not just to improve the likelihood of pregnancy). Not getting pregnant is what got my attention, but it is a symptom of something else.
My surgery is scheduled for Wednesday morning. I'd appreciate prayers and good thoughts, and any pre-surgery advice.
UPDATE: Laparoscopy was moved to Thursday.
UPDATE: Laparoscopy was moved to Thursday.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
I know all that there is to know about the waiting game
(And I'm sorry if you have Boy George's "The Crying Game" stuck in your head for the rest of the day. Better that than "The Macarena." Or "My Sharona.")
When I made an appointment with my OB a few weeks ago, I explained to whoever it was I was speaking with: I have questions for her about fertility. I've been trying to get pregnant for a while and ... nothing is happening.
I guess I assumed that, armed with this knowledge, the appointment-person would set me up with a non-standard meeting with the doctor, during which I could explain my basal rate temperatures, ovulation tests and suspicions about what I think is going on. With that assumption, I wrote down about ten questions for the doctor, packed my temperature charts in my purse and headed off to war. I mean, the gynecologist.
The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back with my legs in the air and a speculum in my nether regions and couldn't remember half of what I'd wanted to ask. In the past, my doctor's cheerful brevity and ruthless efficiency have been extremely welcome. That woman can do a breast exam and papsmear in five minutes flat, and before you know it, you're back in your car and feeling the least molested you've ever felt following a visit to an obgyn.
I tried to relay my concerns -- tried to convey that I'm not just some silly girl who's been bopping her husband and doesn't understand why she's not pregnant. I mean, I have charts! I've read books! I pee on sticks!
So you're having timed intercourse? the doctor asked cheerfully.
Timed intercourse is the least of it, woman!!! Timed intercourse is for amateurs! I deserve an honorary doctorate from Stanford! is what I was feeling. "Yes," is what I said.
Well, you're healthy. You're 32. Sometimes these things just take longer for some people, she said.
For her to say that was basically an indication of just how much she does not understand my level of obsession. I don't know whether to love her for making the situation seem like it's not a big deal or hate her for not trying harder to get me.
It's not as though she did anything wrong. She ordered up all the necessary tests, which is all I could have hoped for. I guess I'll stick with loving her for now.
So here's the plan. I'm on Day 19 of my cycle. I'll likely welcome Aunt Flo on Day 30. On Day 3 of my cycle, I get to have some blood drawn. Around the same time, my husband will also donate his own sample. Hopefully this will reveal something. Anything, for godssakes.
You never know. Maybe it will happen this cycle! my doctor enthused happily.
Yeah. And monkeys might fly out of my butt.
When I made an appointment with my OB a few weeks ago, I explained to whoever it was I was speaking with: I have questions for her about fertility. I've been trying to get pregnant for a while and ... nothing is happening.
I guess I assumed that, armed with this knowledge, the appointment-person would set me up with a non-standard meeting with the doctor, during which I could explain my basal rate temperatures, ovulation tests and suspicions about what I think is going on. With that assumption, I wrote down about ten questions for the doctor, packed my temperature charts in my purse and headed off to war. I mean, the gynecologist.
The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back with my legs in the air and a speculum in my nether regions and couldn't remember half of what I'd wanted to ask. In the past, my doctor's cheerful brevity and ruthless efficiency have been extremely welcome. That woman can do a breast exam and papsmear in five minutes flat, and before you know it, you're back in your car and feeling the least molested you've ever felt following a visit to an obgyn.
I tried to relay my concerns -- tried to convey that I'm not just some silly girl who's been bopping her husband and doesn't understand why she's not pregnant. I mean, I have charts! I've read books! I pee on sticks!
So you're having timed intercourse? the doctor asked cheerfully.
Timed intercourse is the least of it, woman!!! Timed intercourse is for amateurs! I deserve an honorary doctorate from Stanford! is what I was feeling. "Yes," is what I said.
Well, you're healthy. You're 32. Sometimes these things just take longer for some people, she said.
For her to say that was basically an indication of just how much she does not understand my level of obsession. I don't know whether to love her for making the situation seem like it's not a big deal or hate her for not trying harder to get me.
It's not as though she did anything wrong. She ordered up all the necessary tests, which is all I could have hoped for. I guess I'll stick with loving her for now.
So here's the plan. I'm on Day 19 of my cycle. I'll likely welcome Aunt Flo on Day 30. On Day 3 of my cycle, I get to have some blood drawn. Around the same time, my husband will also donate his own sample. Hopefully this will reveal something. Anything, for godssakes.
You never know. Maybe it will happen this cycle! my doctor enthused happily.
Yeah. And monkeys might fly out of my butt.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
The doctor visit
I have an appointment with my OB this morning, and I have almost no idea what to expect.
There probably won't be a lot to report, as I imagine she'll just make me a bunch of appointments to ultrasound my lady parts and draw my blood. I've never had an abnormal papsmear, so I don't expect her to be peering into my nether regions and suddenly gasp Oh! Here's the problem! And pull out a sock or something.
It could answer the age-old question: Where do all the socks go? Vaginas.
I joke, of course. What I mean is that I don't expect her to find anything unusual, like a cyst or something.
Just recently I had a realization about something that might be affecting my fertility. I can't believe it never occurred to me before now. And also, I can't believe I'm about to write about it on the Internet.
The thing is, several years ago -- probably eight or nine years ago -- I got bacterial vaginosis. Don't get all grossed out; BV is just an overgrowth of the normal bacteria that lives in your hoo-haw. It is the most common vaginal infection in women of child-bearing age.
But at the time, I had no idea what it was. I thought it was a yeast infection, because I'd never had one of those, either. So I tried to treat it with some shit from the drug store, which didn't work. I may have waited a couple weeks before I finally sought professional treatment. The doctor diagnosed me in minutes and sent me on my way with antibiotics.
Today I had to go and make myself extra paranoid by googling whether BV can affect fertility, and of course I stumbled across a page that said:
Additionally, bacterial vaginosis can permanently affect your fertility. If left untreated, bacteria from the vagina can travel into your uterus, causing serious damage to your fallopian tubes. This can leave you at risk for future ectopic pregnancies or for complete infertility.
I obviously treated the infection, so I'm not sure if I'm subject to this complication or not.
Another site said it can lead to pelvic inflammatory disease.
The CDC says:
Pelvic inflammatory disease (PID) refers to infection of the uterus (womb), fallopian tubes (tubes that carry eggs from the ovaries to the uterus) and other reproductive organs that causes symptoms such as lower abdominal pain.
Interesting. I am no stranger to lower abdominal pain, but my previous physician dismissed it as a torn muscle.
Now, I don't want to pre-diagnose myself, but while I'm on a roll, I went ahead and looked up PID in Making Babies. It led me to a section on Lutenized Unruptured Follicle Syndrome (LUFS), which occurs frequently in women who have had PID.
LUFS "... is a rare condition in which a follicle develops to mature an egg, but the follicle never breaks open to release the egg. LH spikes, the usual signal to start ovulation, but there's no ovulation..."
"LUFS is difficult to diagnose because it seems as if ovulation has occurred: BBT (basal body temperature) rises, progesterone goes up, and other hormone levels are normal."
Also interesting. My LH spikes every cycle, as does my temperature. The only difference is my temperature then usually bing-bongs all over the place after that. The book says the cure for this is simple: A couple of injections of hormones prompt release of the egg, and if the sperm is OK, you've got a winner.
And here's another interesting tidbit that should have any of us who are having fertility issues making appointments with our doctors, pronto:
"Studies have shown that about 25 to 30 percent of women seeking treatment for infertility carry microorganisms that can impair fertility." These can be as simple as the microorganisms from a yeast infection. You could be asymptomatic, but that junk could be throwing everything off. They can kill sperm or infect an embryo if an egg gets fertilized. If this is happening, both partners need to take antibiotics to kill that shit off.
So what I'm getting at is: I have no idea what's causing our infertility. I'll be requesting the full gamut of testing, and will be sending my husband in to have his sperm checked out.
If I have any updates after today's appointment, I'll put them at the bottom of this post later in the day. If not, I'll update next Wednesday!
Update: I can't even really begin to tell you about all the things I forgot to ask the doctor about, like my Vitamin D levels or my wonky temperatures. It was a very brief visit. I told her I'm having trouble getting pregnant, and she instructed me to get some blood drawn on the third day of my next period (I estimate this will be sometime around July 13). They'll be testing for hypothyroid, estradiol, FSH, and prolactin. I don't know what any of that means, so me and Google have a date for later this afternoon.
I also have a lab sheet for my husband to have his semen tested. I'll wait for my period to start before I make him do that, as well.
I did ask my doctor about the BV and she says it shouldn't be an issue. If I had PID, she says I'd know. With no history of STDs, I should be fine and probably will not need that test where they inject iodine into your lady parts and see if there are any obstructions. (I am definitely feeling like master of the overshare today).
Lastly, the exam went well, as expected. There were no socks or other foreign objects hiding out in my vagina and she pronounced that everything looked great. And if anyone out there is wondering what an actual professional says about frequency of sex during your fertile window -- my doc says every two days.
There probably won't be a lot to report, as I imagine she'll just make me a bunch of appointments to ultrasound my lady parts and draw my blood. I've never had an abnormal papsmear, so I don't expect her to be peering into my nether regions and suddenly gasp Oh! Here's the problem! And pull out a sock or something.
It could answer the age-old question: Where do all the socks go? Vaginas.
I joke, of course. What I mean is that I don't expect her to find anything unusual, like a cyst or something.
Just recently I had a realization about something that might be affecting my fertility. I can't believe it never occurred to me before now. And also, I can't believe I'm about to write about it on the Internet.
The thing is, several years ago -- probably eight or nine years ago -- I got bacterial vaginosis. Don't get all grossed out; BV is just an overgrowth of the normal bacteria that lives in your hoo-haw. It is the most common vaginal infection in women of child-bearing age.
But at the time, I had no idea what it was. I thought it was a yeast infection, because I'd never had one of those, either. So I tried to treat it with some shit from the drug store, which didn't work. I may have waited a couple weeks before I finally sought professional treatment. The doctor diagnosed me in minutes and sent me on my way with antibiotics.
Today I had to go and make myself extra paranoid by googling whether BV can affect fertility, and of course I stumbled across a page that said:
Additionally, bacterial vaginosis can permanently affect your fertility. If left untreated, bacteria from the vagina can travel into your uterus, causing serious damage to your fallopian tubes. This can leave you at risk for future ectopic pregnancies or for complete infertility.
I obviously treated the infection, so I'm not sure if I'm subject to this complication or not.
Another site said it can lead to pelvic inflammatory disease.
The CDC says:
Pelvic inflammatory disease (PID) refers to infection of the uterus (womb), fallopian tubes (tubes that carry eggs from the ovaries to the uterus) and other reproductive organs that causes symptoms such as lower abdominal pain.
Interesting. I am no stranger to lower abdominal pain, but my previous physician dismissed it as a torn muscle.
Now, I don't want to pre-diagnose myself, but while I'm on a roll, I went ahead and looked up PID in Making Babies. It led me to a section on Lutenized Unruptured Follicle Syndrome (LUFS), which occurs frequently in women who have had PID.
LUFS "... is a rare condition in which a follicle develops to mature an egg, but the follicle never breaks open to release the egg. LH spikes, the usual signal to start ovulation, but there's no ovulation..."
"LUFS is difficult to diagnose because it seems as if ovulation has occurred: BBT (basal body temperature) rises, progesterone goes up, and other hormone levels are normal."
Also interesting. My LH spikes every cycle, as does my temperature. The only difference is my temperature then usually bing-bongs all over the place after that. The book says the cure for this is simple: A couple of injections of hormones prompt release of the egg, and if the sperm is OK, you've got a winner.
And here's another interesting tidbit that should have any of us who are having fertility issues making appointments with our doctors, pronto:
"Studies have shown that about 25 to 30 percent of women seeking treatment for infertility carry microorganisms that can impair fertility." These can be as simple as the microorganisms from a yeast infection. You could be asymptomatic, but that junk could be throwing everything off. They can kill sperm or infect an embryo if an egg gets fertilized. If this is happening, both partners need to take antibiotics to kill that shit off.
So what I'm getting at is: I have no idea what's causing our infertility. I'll be requesting the full gamut of testing, and will be sending my husband in to have his sperm checked out.
If I have any updates after today's appointment, I'll put them at the bottom of this post later in the day. If not, I'll update next Wednesday!
Update: I can't even really begin to tell you about all the things I forgot to ask the doctor about, like my Vitamin D levels or my wonky temperatures. It was a very brief visit. I told her I'm having trouble getting pregnant, and she instructed me to get some blood drawn on the third day of my next period (I estimate this will be sometime around July 13). They'll be testing for hypothyroid, estradiol, FSH, and prolactin. I don't know what any of that means, so me and Google have a date for later this afternoon.
I also have a lab sheet for my husband to have his semen tested. I'll wait for my period to start before I make him do that, as well.
I did ask my doctor about the BV and she says it shouldn't be an issue. If I had PID, she says I'd know. With no history of STDs, I should be fine and probably will not need that test where they inject iodine into your lady parts and see if there are any obstructions. (I am definitely feeling like master of the overshare today).
Lastly, the exam went well, as expected. There were no socks or other foreign objects hiding out in my vagina and she pronounced that everything looked great. And if anyone out there is wondering what an actual professional says about frequency of sex during your fertile window -- my doc says every two days.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Flatliner
The appointment has been made! June 22. Commence nerves.
Normal papsmear - no problem. The whole "what's wrong with my baby machine" thing, though ... is a little nerve wracking.
I can play the well-educated guessing game all I want, but the fact of the matter is we simply don't know what is preventing conception. More and more it seems like I hear about people who just can't have kids because of a variety of issues, and if that's me, too? I don't know what my next step is and I can't think about it yet.
Since I began taking my basal body temperature first thing every morning several months ago, I've suspected a progesterone deficiency. The last few cycles in particular have been a bit disturbing -- the temperatures hover around 98 degrees, forming a mostly straight line, rather than that spike in temperature you really want to see at ovulation and afterward.
I have no idea what causes a progesterone deficiency. The internet has a number of theories: Exposure to petrochemicals as a fetus; too much estrogen (fat); birth control pills cause estrogen dominance/ early follicle burnout; stress; hormones in meat.
Of all of those I figure if anything screwed me up it's the birth control pills. And my weight.
Today is my ninth day on the vegan cleanse, and so far, it's had minimal results where my fertility is concerned. I'm noticing more moisture down below, but my temperatures are still wacked. I've lost about five pounds, which is great, but too few to really effect any change at this point.
The goal for the next couple of weeks is to just keep on trucking -- keep losing weight and trying to stay positive. A progesterone deficiency would probably be welcome news at this point: At least there are pills for that.
Normal papsmear - no problem. The whole "what's wrong with my baby machine" thing, though ... is a little nerve wracking.
I can play the well-educated guessing game all I want, but the fact of the matter is we simply don't know what is preventing conception. More and more it seems like I hear about people who just can't have kids because of a variety of issues, and if that's me, too? I don't know what my next step is and I can't think about it yet.
Since I began taking my basal body temperature first thing every morning several months ago, I've suspected a progesterone deficiency. The last few cycles in particular have been a bit disturbing -- the temperatures hover around 98 degrees, forming a mostly straight line, rather than that spike in temperature you really want to see at ovulation and afterward.
I have no idea what causes a progesterone deficiency. The internet has a number of theories: Exposure to petrochemicals as a fetus; too much estrogen (fat); birth control pills cause estrogen dominance/ early follicle burnout; stress; hormones in meat.
Of all of those I figure if anything screwed me up it's the birth control pills. And my weight.
Today is my ninth day on the vegan cleanse, and so far, it's had minimal results where my fertility is concerned. I'm noticing more moisture down below, but my temperatures are still wacked. I've lost about five pounds, which is great, but too few to really effect any change at this point.
The goal for the next couple of weeks is to just keep on trucking -- keep losing weight and trying to stay positive. A progesterone deficiency would probably be welcome news at this point: At least there are pills for that.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Encouragement
It may be folly to feel encouraged by a fortune in a fortune cookie, but sometimes you just feel like the universe is speaking to you.
For example, a couple of years ago, the day before my husband and I were about to embark on a two week road trip, I received a fortune that read: Need some adventure and enjoyment? Take a vacation.
More like advice than a fortune, right? But accurate, nonetheless.
Last week we received these two fortunes:
Your present plans are going to succeed if you stick to them.
... and, more importantly ...
Your household will soon be showered with unexpected blessings. Congratulations.
I take this to mean I am going to simultaneously publish my book and get pregnant. It's nice to know the universe is on board with my plans.
And speaking of plans, I'm back on the "let's get pregnant" program, ready to pee on a stick when The Machine tells me to, trying to remember to take my temperature in the mornings. The fact that I have remembered to take my temperature only once is an indication of my much more relaxed attitude about this whole thing this cycle. The month of bliss was very helpful mentally (although, as I suspected, the month of bliss was not fruitful the way it has been for some infertility bloggers. I admit I'd hoped it might be the magic key).
And I have to admit something else. I wonder if other people dealing with this same thing ever feel the same way: I am starting to feel like it's kind of useless to even try. This is illogical, I know, but even when we're doing everything right, when and how we're supposed to do it and I'm taking my supplements and going on walks and eating my vegetables -- I still have this hollow feeling of doing something that will lead to nothing. Maybe it's just because that's what's been happening every month -- a lot of nothing. I'm just used to all of this resulting in the same thing every month: my period.
All of my surmising is probably irritating some of you who wish I would go to the doctor, already. I'm going to, I swear. My new health insurance starts in June, and then I'll be making that appointment. Then I suspect I'll have a whole other story to tell.
For example, a couple of years ago, the day before my husband and I were about to embark on a two week road trip, I received a fortune that read: Need some adventure and enjoyment? Take a vacation.
More like advice than a fortune, right? But accurate, nonetheless.
Last week we received these two fortunes:
Your present plans are going to succeed if you stick to them.
... and, more importantly ...
Your household will soon be showered with unexpected blessings. Congratulations.
I take this to mean I am going to simultaneously publish my book and get pregnant. It's nice to know the universe is on board with my plans.
And speaking of plans, I'm back on the "let's get pregnant" program, ready to pee on a stick when The Machine tells me to, trying to remember to take my temperature in the mornings. The fact that I have remembered to take my temperature only once is an indication of my much more relaxed attitude about this whole thing this cycle. The month of bliss was very helpful mentally (although, as I suspected, the month of bliss was not fruitful the way it has been for some infertility bloggers. I admit I'd hoped it might be the magic key).
And I have to admit something else. I wonder if other people dealing with this same thing ever feel the same way: I am starting to feel like it's kind of useless to even try. This is illogical, I know, but even when we're doing everything right, when and how we're supposed to do it and I'm taking my supplements and going on walks and eating my vegetables -- I still have this hollow feeling of doing something that will lead to nothing. Maybe it's just because that's what's been happening every month -- a lot of nothing. I'm just used to all of this resulting in the same thing every month: my period.
All of my surmising is probably irritating some of you who wish I would go to the doctor, already. I'm going to, I swear. My new health insurance starts in June, and then I'll be making that appointment. Then I suspect I'll have a whole other story to tell.
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