Thursday, November 29, 2012
Waking Up on the Other Side
A few days before my period was due, I started to prepare myself for another failed cycle and for the start of fertility drugs. We had a military ball to go to, and I decided to take a pregnancy test just in case, because I thought I may end up having a couple drinks and wanted to play it safe. The test was as negative as it always was, and I wasn't at all surprised. We had a good time, and I ended up deciding not to drink anyway. Two days later, I thought my period should have shown up, although I had been taking some supplements to increase the time between ovulation and my period, so I took another test. Negative again, of course, so I told myself that it was time to let it go and just wait for the next cycle to begin. However, early on the morning of November 13, I had a dream that I took a pregnancy test, and it was positive. In the dream, I didn't believe that could be, so I kept taking them. They were all positive. I'd had a dream about getting a positive test before, and it had been so painful to see a stark white space where a second line should have been when I tested, so I was scared to let that happen again. I took my temperature before getting out of bed, and it was still very high. Especially that early in the morning. For those that are lucky enough to never have to learn about your body in order to get pregnant, a high temperature that stays high when your period should have started is a good sign. I told myself I was probably getting sick, but I couldn't help myself, and decided to test one more time. As the test developed, I glanced over and saw what appeared to be another negative. I sat on the bathroom floor and prayed for peace, for patience, and to forgive myself for putting myself through that disappointment for a third time that cycle. As I reached for the test to throw it away, I saw something I had never seen. Well, not on any of my tests anyway. I saw the slightest second pink line. I hated my eyes for playing tricks on me, and I closed them for a minute and tried to get myself together. Surely, my poor, pathetic brain was just making my eyes see things. But when I opened my eyes, the line was still there. I was in total disbelief. I hadn't relaxed. In fact, I had had one of the most heartbreaking, frustrating, worrisome months of this whole journey, yet it appeared that it didn't matter. Now I had a different worry. I prayed, "Please, God. Let this be it. Please let this baby cling to my uterus for dear life. Please don't give me what you cannot let me keep. Please, please, please." And then I woke up Matt to say the words I'd been waiting a long time to be able to say. "I think I'm pregnant."
Before the Other Side
So, before I created this blog, I had another blog. That blog started out as a place to update on the different places the military would take Matt and me, but it soon turned into a place for to let out my frustrations with what would become a longer journey to parenthood than I thought I'd ever experience. That part of my life is important and has made a huge impact on my life, but I felt like it was time for a fresh start for what appears to be a new chapter that I only hope will keep developing.
To appreciate the new chapter, I think it's important to reflect on the past 14 months. In September of last year, Matt and I talked about whether it might be time to start trying to build a family. This time with kids rather than dogs. We knew we wanted children, but we wanted to be "ready". I am not sure why I suspected deep down that it might not happen right away when everyone in my family seems to get pregnant any time they aren't already pregnant, but I just had a flicker of doubt. I told Matt, "It could take several months." Ha! That would have been if we were one of the "lucky" ones. Several months passed, then several more, and Matt was told he'd be deploying at the beginning of the next year. My primary doctor wasn't taking my thyroid issues seriously, and with the pressure of a deployment upon us, I asked for a referral to a specialist (a reproductive endocrinologist - referred to as an RE from now on). The RE ordered a ton of bloodwork and a couple other tests, but I went ahead with the bloodwork and was diagnosed with Hashimoto's thyroiditis, an autoimmune thyroid disease. All my other results looked fine. We adjusted my thyroid medicine in hopes that that would help. A few more months went by, and still nothing. In this time since we'd been trying, 7 friends got pregnant, and while I was genuinely happy for them, my heart was broken. It felt like I was being punished for something, and I didn't know what. I had waited until Matt and I were settled and emotionally and financially prepared, and there appeared to be no reward for doing things "the right way". I got all kinds of unsolicited, insensitive advice from people who meant well, but didn't know what to say. I heard more times than I could handle to "just relax" as if I had been stressed from the first day and as if I could stop being worried about whether we would ever be able to have children. I heard "it will happen when you least expect it" as if I would magically just forget that we were hoping for a baby or as if I ever really expected it after over a year. I was told, "Just enjoy being with your husband" as if every moment was spent on a strict baby making schedule that was all business. So, basically lots of assumptions from people that haven't ever been in my shoes. Luckily, I found a group of women on a forum that were an amazing support system and continue to be. I found out one of the women I met there lived about 5 minutes away from me and is also a military spouse, and we became close and finally found someone that we could share our fertility struggles with in real life.
I went through more tests and bloodwork. Matt was tested as well. The RE had recommended intra-uterine insemination and injectable hormones, and it looked like our chances of getting pregnant on our own were pretty slim. I was terrified by the idea of injections and equally terrified of the estimated $3,000 out of pocket cost of a treatment that would only give us a 10-15% chance of conceiving. I decided to try oral fertility drugs instead, and made a plan to start them on our 14th cycle, though they'd only give us about an 8% chance. I found out that the naval hospital in San Diego offered fertility treatments for a steep discount, and decided to try to get on the year long wait list for IVF in case that was the route we'd need to take. I was told when I called that because I'd changed my insurance plan so that I could see civilian doctors, the military facility could not see me. I felt like every door was being slammed in my face. On our 13th cycle, and a few nights before Halloween, I sat on the floor of Matt's office and just broke down. I hadn't wanted to put any extra stress on him, but the floodgates just opened up, and I told him how unfair this was, how much it hurt, and how mad it made me. I just felt defeated. I would never be able to just give up, but I couldn't imagine that this was ever going to happen. Little did I know God had slammed those doors on me for a very good reason.
To appreciate the new chapter, I think it's important to reflect on the past 14 months. In September of last year, Matt and I talked about whether it might be time to start trying to build a family. This time with kids rather than dogs. We knew we wanted children, but we wanted to be "ready". I am not sure why I suspected deep down that it might not happen right away when everyone in my family seems to get pregnant any time they aren't already pregnant, but I just had a flicker of doubt. I told Matt, "It could take several months." Ha! That would have been if we were one of the "lucky" ones. Several months passed, then several more, and Matt was told he'd be deploying at the beginning of the next year. My primary doctor wasn't taking my thyroid issues seriously, and with the pressure of a deployment upon us, I asked for a referral to a specialist (a reproductive endocrinologist - referred to as an RE from now on). The RE ordered a ton of bloodwork and a couple other tests, but I went ahead with the bloodwork and was diagnosed with Hashimoto's thyroiditis, an autoimmune thyroid disease. All my other results looked fine. We adjusted my thyroid medicine in hopes that that would help. A few more months went by, and still nothing. In this time since we'd been trying, 7 friends got pregnant, and while I was genuinely happy for them, my heart was broken. It felt like I was being punished for something, and I didn't know what. I had waited until Matt and I were settled and emotionally and financially prepared, and there appeared to be no reward for doing things "the right way". I got all kinds of unsolicited, insensitive advice from people who meant well, but didn't know what to say. I heard more times than I could handle to "just relax" as if I had been stressed from the first day and as if I could stop being worried about whether we would ever be able to have children. I heard "it will happen when you least expect it" as if I would magically just forget that we were hoping for a baby or as if I ever really expected it after over a year. I was told, "Just enjoy being with your husband" as if every moment was spent on a strict baby making schedule that was all business. So, basically lots of assumptions from people that haven't ever been in my shoes. Luckily, I found a group of women on a forum that were an amazing support system and continue to be. I found out one of the women I met there lived about 5 minutes away from me and is also a military spouse, and we became close and finally found someone that we could share our fertility struggles with in real life.
I went through more tests and bloodwork. Matt was tested as well. The RE had recommended intra-uterine insemination and injectable hormones, and it looked like our chances of getting pregnant on our own were pretty slim. I was terrified by the idea of injections and equally terrified of the estimated $3,000 out of pocket cost of a treatment that would only give us a 10-15% chance of conceiving. I decided to try oral fertility drugs instead, and made a plan to start them on our 14th cycle, though they'd only give us about an 8% chance. I found out that the naval hospital in San Diego offered fertility treatments for a steep discount, and decided to try to get on the year long wait list for IVF in case that was the route we'd need to take. I was told when I called that because I'd changed my insurance plan so that I could see civilian doctors, the military facility could not see me. I felt like every door was being slammed in my face. On our 13th cycle, and a few nights before Halloween, I sat on the floor of Matt's office and just broke down. I hadn't wanted to put any extra stress on him, but the floodgates just opened up, and I told him how unfair this was, how much it hurt, and how mad it made me. I just felt defeated. I would never be able to just give up, but I couldn't imagine that this was ever going to happen. Little did I know God had slammed those doors on me for a very good reason.
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