Not that almost three years of trying and no pregnancies that lasted more than 5 weeks wasn't our first clue or anything, but we did finally find a medical doctor who will listen to us, and respects our desire not to be treated with any methods that are too invasive.
About July or August we discovered the Creighton Model System- a wonderfully accurate "natural family planning" method that not only helps you achieve or avoid pregnancy with the same success rates of the birth control pill (seriously, if you truly follow the 'rules' it's just about as fool-proof as you can get), but also teaches you to chart your cycles in a way that gives not only yourself but the trained nurses and doctors a very accurate picture of what might be going wrong in the cases of infertility. We, of course, began learning the method right away at our local hospital.
Fast forward to September- we've met with our Dr., gone over an entire laundry list of things he suspects to be going on (infertility, it seems, is rarely caused by one simple thing- generally it's a combination of things that just are not going quite right within the body), and gone over a list of tests/procedures we can expect to go through ("we" as in, pretty much just me physically, but both of us mentally and emotionally- and, of course, financially!) in the coming months.
Test number one- a hormone panel to determine if I have trouble with my Thyroid. Dr. had me fill out a very long and very thorough questionaire related to various Thyroid symptoms- what a surprise, he's fairly certain it's not working correctly (this we have suspected for around 18 months to 2 years- I was on a strict diet and LOTS of nutritional supplements to try and repair damage to the pituitary/thyroid/adrenals, in order to try and fix things, for that whole time period but even though I saw an improvement in symptoms it didn't fix the problem). This requires a series of blood tests on certain days of my cycle- NOT fun for a girl who can deal with a myriad of injuries in others but not stand the sight of her own blood! (weird, huh?)
*On a slight "rabbit trail" here, the first two of four blood draws where ok- manageable, definitely- but the third (which I just experienced today) was truly awful. I told Pete not to bother coming with me, since I didn't want to admit to being too big of a baby, and since he was doing his best to install our new water heater and water softner at the time- but boy, did I wish he was with me by the time it was over. My first clue that things might be taking a turn for the worst was when I went in to the part of the hospital I've been having all this stuff done at and, since it's Saturday, it was pretty much locked up tight for the weekend. No one, apparently, thought to tell me ahead of time that, should one of my blood draw days fall on the weekend, I would need to go to the EMERGENCY ROOM to have it drawn. So, on I go, in search of the ER. I do finally find the ER, and proceed to check in. I'm sure anyone who's had to go to the ER or Urgent Care outside of normal business hours for anything less than life threatening can empathize with the rest of this story. I check in- the kind nurses, secured behind their bullet proof glass window (complete with a tiny hole to YELL into so they can get your answers to their 50 million non-vital questions about your name, your vital statistics, and anything else they're curious about) take a good ten minutes to figure out how to spell my name and find me and my little 'doctor's orders' sheet in their system. They then proceed to tell me that it will take a while for them to figure out how to "order" this blood draw, as "we've never done this before". Great. They brave stepping out of their bullet-proof glass cage just long enough to tape a hospital ID bracelet to my arm, and tell me to have a seat. Two hours, yes, TWO HOURS later, they have successfully figured out how to "order" my lil 'ol blood draw. Yay for technology! I follow the nurse into a spare ER room and she says something to the effect of, "Get ready, we're taking a LOT of your blood today!" What?! I look at her "orders" and she has about 8 empty vials sitting on the counter, waiting for my blood! I nearly fainted then and there. I didn't hesitate to play "20 Questions With the Nurse": what?-are you kidding me?- are you sure Dr. ordered ALL of this?-absolutely sure?- MY Dr.?- could there be more than one Dr. ___?-are you sure?- you actually spoke to him?-he definitely said to do this many?... She actually told me, "Honey, we just spent half an hour calling back and forth on this." (So glad during that two hour wait in an empty ER they could stick me on the priority list during that last 30 min.) "You can refuse it if you want..." I did think about refusing it, believe you me! But, I'm nearly done with the hormone panel now, and with the dip our income has taken lately we can't afford to do it all over again next cycle. BIG SIGH... I told her, if she was absolutely SURE that I'd do it- but I did warn her that I might faint. Why was this so traumatizing for me? I spent a LOT of my childhood and young adulthood in and out of the doctor's office for one reason or another. I have been through enough blood draws, pricks, and tests to fill an entire human with blood, and had to do a loooong series of allergy shots (once a week, for years)- I have a serious "thing" about needles. And, as I mentioned before, for some reason the sight of my own blood literally causes me to nearly faint, every time. I have issues, I know. Add in the fact that, no matter how still you try to stand, a breathing human with a heartbeat is rarely able to stand still enough, let alone keep their hand steady enough, to not cause a needle stuck into your vein NOT to move at least a little while it's in there. And even the slightest movement, hurts. And bruises- majorly. (Okay, the easy bruising part is also probably just me- although it's apparently one of the symptoms of my thyroid not working properly.) By the fifth vial I was in tears (horribly humiliating, but not able to be helped). I HATE crying in front of people, I really do. But, my body was no longer listening, so down they came. Anyway, after taking a few moments to deep breathe myself back to full consciousness, I headed home. Oh how I wish I'd known ahead of time so my wonderfully supportive and understanding hubby could have been there to at least hold my hand. Oh well.*
The second test- an ultrasound of my ovaries. Apparently, during my initial exam with the Dr. he discovered that my left ovary was quite a bit larger than my right. He thought cysts were a very probable cause, so in for the ultrasound I went. (This was not particularly pleasant, as it had to be done smack dab in the middle of menstration. Ladies, you'll understand the discomfort. Unfortunately, to get a really clear picture of the ovaries, you must not only have the ultrasound on the belly, but also one of the interior of 'things'. With a painfully full bladder to boot.) Discomfort aside, the results were not good. The Tuesday after returning from convention we were informed that there was good reason that my ovaries appeared enlarged. The left one had six cysts, while the right one had four. Ten cysts total. While the ovaries do have more than one follicle developing at different stages at any given time, this was waaaay too many. Ever have one of those moments where your brain, logically, knows that the odds of (whatever-it-is) turning into your worst nightmare are slim, but your instinctive and illogical fear of it happening anyway is completely and entirely impossible to get rid of? That's the high-stress state I remained in from Tuesday (when we got this news) until Thursday of the next week (when our next possible appointment was). My personal worst nightmares (ranked from worst to slightly less worse)? 1. Ovarian cancer. 2. "Dead" ovaries with no chance of a biological pregnancy- ever. Pete did his best to reassure me that, in all probability, neither of these things would be the case. And, logically, I knew he was right. But, whatever that other part is, that "fear" that is just inside you anyway, despite logic, I was afraid. And very stressed. And very emotional.
I did my best to keep praying and reading (and still am!), to find comfort from the Comforter- to find peace in that, whatever the outcome, whatever my circumstances, His will would be best. And again, while my head and my heart knew that to be true, the fear stayed. We were both relieved and overwhelmed when Thursday rolled around and Dr. didn't mentioned either of those fears as what was going on in there. Whew! He did give us another hugely extensive list of "what's next". Extremely overwhelming and extremely confusing, so I'll delve more into that at a later date.
I did my best to keep praying and reading (and still am!), to find comfort from the Comforter- to find peace in that, whatever the outcome, whatever my circumstances, His will would be best. And again, while my head and my heart knew that to be true, the fear stayed. We were both relieved and overwhelmed when Thursday rolled around and Dr. didn't mentioned either of those fears as what was going on in there. Whew! He did give us another hugely extensive list of "what's next". Extremely overwhelming and extremely confusing, so I'll delve more into that at a later date.
*Another quick rabbit trail, this time on our doctor. Dr. seems to be a great guy. No other MD has ever ACTUALLY listened to me like this one, and has given me credit enough to think I might actually have a clue about what is going on with my body like this guy has so far. He even believes in there being a link of food insensitivities/past medical experiences/environment to what might be causing such a huge spike of infertile men and women of my generation (and his generation too, he's only about 35). However, if he were a cartoon character, Dr. would be a thin rabbit, a bit too hyped up on caffeine. (Yes, I have a tendency of imagining those in my life as cartoon characters from time to time- most likely this is a disturbing result of having spent the majority of my waking hours over the last 8 years or so in the company of small children, and with very few adults by comparison. Yes, I know, I do have issues.) Anyway, my point is that Dr. is so enthusiastic about fixing the problem(s) (which is a very good thing), that he jumps (see where the rabbit comparison comes into play?) from issue to issue, test to test, possible complication to possible complication, without much room for breathing in between (which is a very overwhelming, somewhat scary, and not-so-good thing). My wonderful sister is easier to understand when she's on a "roll" than Dr. is. After having him go over it about 5 times (poor guy, he even attempted to DRAW the plan out on a paper towel for us!), as we listened, glassy-eyed, I finally had to ask him, if he had to choose just one thing to treat at a time, what would they be and in what order would they occur? He did help us formulate a "plan of attack", but thank goodness for nurses with good note taking skills- after the barrage of information before that I don't think another single syllable would have made it home in our memories. He even said he would type it up in letter form and mail it to us, so we'd have it to refer to as we proceed. We were very grateful.
So, the next step for us (well, me mostly) is to continue with the strict diet I briefly mentioned before (no wheat, dairy, sugar, or red meat), adding in no legumes or eggs as well. SIGH- I'm destined never to enjoy eating again. He is also gathering information for us on an ultrasound series we can do (very expensive, but very, very good) to determine if the cysts go away on their own (in which case they don't need to be bothered with), or if they stay (in which case either medication- probably long-term- or surgery will be required.
After we've come to a decision on the ultrasounds, I'll need to set up a time to do some MORE blood testing- unfortunately having it drawn multiple times over a two and a half hour period- to determine if I have some sort of insulin problem (the details escape me), which will indicate the previously mentioned long-term medication will be needed. (I am sincerely hoping I can sweet talk SOMEONE, ANYONE into being with me for this- I won't be able to eat before hand, or during the 2 1/2 hr. period, so the likelihood of me completely losing consciousness at some point during all of this will be greatly increased.)
Anyway, (if you stuck with me for the entire length of this gargantuan post) that's about it at this point. I have two sheets from the doctor's office with various other details that fill in the blanks, but at this point my mind is way beyond deciphering any of it. Another day, another post.
Stay tuned...
Love,
Jenni :)
After we've come to a decision on the ultrasounds, I'll need to set up a time to do some MORE blood testing- unfortunately having it drawn multiple times over a two and a half hour period- to determine if I have some sort of insulin problem (the details escape me), which will indicate the previously mentioned long-term medication will be needed. (I am sincerely hoping I can sweet talk SOMEONE, ANYONE into being with me for this- I won't be able to eat before hand, or during the 2 1/2 hr. period, so the likelihood of me completely losing consciousness at some point during all of this will be greatly increased.)
Anyway, (if you stuck with me for the entire length of this gargantuan post) that's about it at this point. I have two sheets from the doctor's office with various other details that fill in the blanks, but at this point my mind is way beyond deciphering any of it. Another day, another post.
Stay tuned...
Love,
Jenni :)
