Heartache and Hope

Here's our story so far.
You might want to grab a snack if you plan on reading this all the way through.
See how I added pretty pictures to try and break it up some?

Stewart and I met in 2006, got married in 2008, bought our house in 2009 and figured we were right on track and that starting a family would be next.  Happy, Happy, Happy!

September 20, 2008
Will, my little brother, Pam, my mom, me, Stewart, Mary & Joe, Stewart's parents
My dad unexpectedly passed away in 2003.
There is a little picture frame with his picture tied to the back of my bouquet.

I love this one.
I'm still obsessed with my dress.
I may have tried it on a few days ago.

The summer of 2010, we were getting ready to travel to Orlando for a belated honeymoon.

I had a yearly checkup with my OBGYN.  We had already been trying, so she went ahead and referred me (she actually set up my appointment) to a fertility specialist.
After I got to asking around, this was supposedly the office you wanted to go to and getting appointments was fairly difficult.  

We happily went on our honeymoon and had a GREAT time.
We just figured we'd go see this Dr. when we got back, they'd direct us and we'd get pregnant.  We really weren't all that worried about it.

Look how carefree we were on the teacups at Disney.

So we met with the fertility Dr. for our first consultation and were both fairly nervous.  He brought a medical student in the office to sit in on our conversation.  I didn't really mind, but wasn't terribly comfortable. Of course, we had to answer a lot of embarrassing questions, but soon got over our modesty.  He spouted off a bunch of statistics, much of it specifically about my age.  I'm still very sensitive about this so that's all I'll say for now.

We began (that day, I think) a battery of the usual testing.  I have never been so poked, prodded, and THOROUGHLY examined in my entire life.  Much of it was pretty invasive. Anyone who knows me well, knows I'm VERY modest and I'm terrified of needles. (well, I WAS terrified of needles)

They sent me off to have a Hysterosalpingogram (HSG).  Click here to find out more about HSG.
I know, I can't pronounce it either.  Basically, they shoot dye through your tubes to make sure they're not blocked.  We were told that often, women concieve after this procedure as the dye unblocked stuff. I'm a big nerd, so when the Dr. asked me if I wanted to watch it on the screen as he did the HSG, I emphatically said "yes!" I was amazed and a little grossed out all at once. 

Anyway, Stewart and I just KNEW this was our problem.  The dye would clear me out, we'd be able to conceive and that would be the end of that.
Not so fast.
All that we learned is that one of my tubes is slightly pinched in.  Not pinched closed, but just more narrow.  I could have surgery to correct it, but that it would not impede conception at all.  We decided against the surgery.  Whew!  I escaped a few needles plus more.

The Dr. put me on Clomid, which is a pill that stimulates the release of hormones necessary for ovulation to occur.  They told us I do ovulate, but not as well as I should.  huh?
Clomid is also to blame for multiple births.
Again, still sort of laughing about all of this infertility jive, we joked about how we were going to end up with freakin' sextuplets and have to have our own reality show just to afford the little darlings.

Our diagnosis was "unexplained infertility".  The Dr. said he saw no reason why we would not be able to conceive on our own.

Really??? 

You've got to be kidding!!

After all those tests. After all the blood drawn. After all the money paid out of pocket to have it done because most insurance does not cover this sort of thing either at all or completely.  After having to disrobe and be examined multiple times...It's unexplained?  S I G H
This is where we began to really get worried. And frustrated.
We just figured that at the end of it all, we'd have some sort of answer or at least a kid on the way.

I ended up being on Clomid for a little over a year.  I started having very bad cramps.  I had to get some serious pain meds from my OBGYN & Stewart threatened to take me to the ER on more than one occasion.
I gained weight and my emotions and moods were all over the place.  During that year, the Dr. told us our next steps would be to do an IUI, or just go straight to IVF.
We ended up doing an IUI. Click here
Insurance doesn't cover most of it.  It also didn't cover the $99 shots (a piece) I had to give myself in the stomach.  Have I mentioned my abhorrence for needles?

We endured the 2WW. That's 2 week wait.  There's a whole underground world I discovered on-line of message boards filled with infertiles.  They have this weird secret language.
For example: DH, TTC, BCP, BFP, BFN, HSG. Ohhhh...you know that one don't you young grasshopper!

Well, as you guessed, the IUI didn't work. So we gathered up our broken hearts as best we could and just kept on trucking.

I tried to make another appointment with the Dr. just to see what we could do next.  The nurse told me it would be at least a 6 month wait!  What?!  At this point, I felt that we had fallen through the cracks with our "unexplained infertility." All he did anyway anytime we saw him (BTW, he NEVER examined me himself and there was always a student in the room during our "consultations".) was spout off stats about my age, and how IVF has such a high success rate...yadda, yadda, yadda. One time, I almost asked him if he could help us pay for the IVF.  Which I also resent.  Look up at how much that one costs.
So when the nurse asked me if I would mind seeing the brand new Dr. in the group, I said, "sure, what have we got to lose?"

We met with the new guy, we liked him, but the first time he started in on the stats about my age, I totally lost it right there in his office.  Uncontrollable, unstoppable sobbing. He just stopped, looked at me like he was going to cry too and handed me a tissue. He didn't say anything else about the stupid stats.
We decided to do another IUI. The new guy even examined me.

This second IUI was July 2012. It failed.
I was done.
Done with the Dr.
Done with the stats.
Done paying so much money that we were behind on bills.
D O N E.
Our emotions and hearts were just demolished.  I couldn't be near anyone who was pregnant, had a newborn, or even looked like they might be a new mom.  I was depressed, confused, hurt. I was a zombie.

Somehow, I came back from my zombie state. Well, mostly. And here we are today.

We are still TTC. That's one of those secret language thingys. It means "trying to conceive". Nifty huh?
To date, I have never been pregnant.  Sometimes I actually feel jealous of women who have been diagnosed with something.  At least they have some sort of course of treatment they can work toward.

Everytime I go to Walgreens, I check to see if the "good" ovulation tests are on sale.
I hit the jackpot about 2 months ago when I found the brand I wanted for 50% off.  It was still about $30.
So I completely resent having to pay that much. I have to go through so much other crap, can't the dang ovulation tests at least be a little cheaper?

Unless someone comes and promises me a miracle, I really don't think I want to go back to the Dr.  There is not really anything wrong with us according to them anyway.

So we have decided that when God says it's time...then it's time.
I wish it was so cut and dry.
I wish I could put all those emotions, hopes and daydreams about dressing up a little girl, or watching Stewart teach our son how to play the guitar in a pretty little box up on the shelf, then take it back down when it was time.
But I can't.  So we're trying to sail through the calm and navigate the rough waters as we go.
We're doing our best to trust our Father.
At least that's free.