My husband and I always assumed that once we got married that children would come
along eventually. But of course the way that we think life should work and the
way that it actually does work are very rarely the same thing.
We've been trying to have a child for almost ten years now, but with no luck.
After years and years of trying on our own, mostly just letting things happen
naturally, but occassionally trying vitamin supplements or other bits of advice from
friends: pile pillows under your butt after sex, drink lots of raspberry tea, eat
lots of soy, drink goat milk, you name it we probably tried it, we decided it was time
for some type of intervention.
Finally, in 2001 I went to a reproductive specialist at the urging of my primary care
physician. He diagnosed me almost immediately with polycystic ovarian syndrome. I
started a regimin of pills to help reduce the cysts on my ovaries (glucophage/metformin)
as well as another pill to bring on my period each month in case it didn't come on its
own (medroxyprogesterone). Each month I went in to have a progesterone level drawn and
an ultrasound done, and each month the cysts stayed exactly the same and my progesterone
levels indicated that I just wasn't ovulating. For about 6 months we kept this up, steadily
upping the doses of medication. I was such an emotional wreck and so horribly moody that my
husband couldn't stand to be around me. It came down to either I was going to have to stop
taking the meds or my marriage was going to crumble around me.
Then we moved to a different state. My new insurance no longer covered my visits to a fertility
specialist. I started seeing a regular ob/gyn who put me back on the exact same protocol
that i had been on previously. Yes, the one that hadn't worked in the entire six months I had been
on it. I decided to be patient and see if he did anything different. The main difference I found
was that after a while, instead of taking pills to bring my period on he would have me wait an
extra ten days from the day I should start then bring me in to draw a progesterone level. If I hadn't
ovulated (i never did) i'd come in a week later for a progesterone shot to bring my period on.
Finally he decided to put me on clomid. This meant I was having to come in steadily and have ultrasounds
done too to make sure I wasn't hyperstimulated...I never was. After several months of taking Clomid
we stopped all medications. At this point we'd been on meds almost constantly for 4 years. It just
My ob/gyn decided to refer me to a fertility specialist in a different state.
We had high hopes for this visit to the specialist. I was seriously hoping that he would agree to
put me on injectible medications.
Of course, once again, that wasn't the way things were meant to be.
This specialist said he'd like to put me back on glucophage and medroxyprogesterone, yep the same things
i'd been taking for the last four years that hadn't been working. he also said that he wouldn't agree
to put me on injectibles because of my weight. he suggested i look into gastric bypass (i later learned
that he suggests this to about 80% of the women who come to his clinic). We went home dejected.
Then my husband got a job with GREAT insurance. They would pay for a gastric bypass surgery. I was exstatic.
One of the sad things about PCOS, in case you didn't know, is that it is made worse by being overweight, but
one of the symptoms is obesity. Plus, once you have pcos it becomes quite difficult to lose the weight on
your own. So, I'm thinking that if I have gastric bypass surgery done, and the weight drops off, that
maybe just maybe my body will start doing the things it's supposed to.
Then of course, life dealt us another crushing blow...my husband got laid off and lost his insurance less
than a week before my initial testing for the surgery.
That was almost a year ago.
In the year since then we've been off meds. We've just sort of been letting things happen as they'll happen.
We've had two failed attempts at surrogacy. Two people very close to us agreed to carry a baby for us, and
then backed out at the last minute. I understand that dedicating nine months of your life to carrying a baby
that you're not going to keep is a huge sacrifice, i really do, but that doesn't make the heartache of hearing
that they're no longer going to do it any easier. I'm not angry though, anger is nothing but poison to the
heart. I'm just sad.
Everyone keeps saying we should adopt, but I think those people who just toss the word adoption around don't realize
exactly how difficult that process is. It's not just the $20,000+ that it costs (which we don't have), but all
the other things that go along with it. The fact that you have to live somewhere for a year before you can have your
homestudy done, the reams of paperwork you have to fill out, the red tape you have to wade through. I know that it'd
be worth it, but carl and I went through all of that in Georgia going through their pre-adoption stuff. It's very
hard and quite often leads to nothing more than another broken heart.
I have no idea where we'll go from here. I guess I keep hoping I'll wake up one morning and there'll
be a baby bundled up on my door step with a note that says "Hi, I'm yours. Please take care of me." Current Mood: sad