Monday, December 5, 2011

The News

I never thought I would be one to write a blog. I've never read a blog. I considered bloggers overly emotional people in desperate need of attention. Like reality TV, I didn't feel the need to peak into the lives of others on a daily basis - until my gynecologist said the words "fertility specialist" at my last visit and I went straight to Google to find out more. (I will soon learn that this is a horrible idea as the internet can be both a blessing and a curse with regard to fact finding).

This past July my husband and I decided we would try and have a baby. I had been in the pill since I was 18 and my periods were regular (Thursdays at 10am), were cramp free, and short. I didn't gain weight from the pill and I had clear skin. Considering it is a period we are talking about, life wasn't too bad.
I missed my period in August and took a pregnancy test, not pregnant but I knew it could take up to 50 days for the body to get back in the swing of period making, so I wasn't alarmed.

September - no period, no baby
October - no period, no baby BUT there was a cyst on my ovary. I got a shot in my butt (very sexy) and was told after the cyst dissolved, I would get my period within 5 to 10 days.
10 days later - no period, but after an ultrasound, I learned the cyst had dissolved which was good news.
November - no period, no cyst, no baby. After the results of my blood work came back, I learned my hormones were premenopausal. My body was 28 on the outside, but apparently pushing 45 on the inside. This news was incredibly shocking because in my mind, I was doing most things right. I exercised regularly, maintained a healthy body weight, ate everything in "moderation" (as the experts say), and took good care of myself.

I soared directly into panic mode and thought I would be barren, childless, and surrounded by cats for the rest of my days.  Where did my period go? Why had I had it on the pill? What the hell man!
After picking my jaw up off the floor, I learned the estrogen from the pill was what my body needed to keep my period going. Without the pill, I didn't have that extra kick to move things along.

This would eventually become the referred to "worst day".

My mom met me at the doctor's office just as I was walking out from my conversation with Dr. H. Puffy eyed and sniffley I paid my bill (I don't even know what I was paying for) and dragged my legs out of the office. My hand held the business card of a near by fertility group, The Institute of Reproductive Medicine in Clark, NJ.

My mom and I planned to go for lunch afterwards at a tapas place recommended by a friend since, at the time, neither of us thought "fertility specialist" would become part of my vocabulary. I was wearing a black and grey striped shirt I had bought for Halloween, I had been the Hamburgular, and by now the sleeves were dampened with tears. In the car, outside the restaurant, I cried...and cried..and cried...but I also made it to lunch. I do have my priorities. I got some kind of tuna and seasoning. It was delicious.

At lunch I called the specialist recommended to me by Dr. H and I was able to get an appointment right away (off to a good start!).

After lunch I went home and wallowed. The last time I wallowed to such a degree was my 17th birthday. I failed my driver's test and deemed it the worst day of life. It was trumped by today and I decided to give myself one full afternoon of self pity. I think it was required in order to be more proactive from this point out. I felt if I got all the wallowing out of my system, I would be a healthier person and more focused.

DJ had called mid-wallow to see how everything went but I was too emotional to get into detail. He said that when he got in the house after work and everything was dark, he knew something was amiss. When he found me, a lump underneath the covers at 5:00pm and into my 5th hour of wallowing. He dug me out and got me on my feet (both literally and physically). I knew then that I had the best partner in crime for whatever laid ahead.

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