Take me, for example. I never thought I'd be living in Scotland with my British husband working in an online-school, but those are all good surprises. I love my home and my work and my community, and I love living close to at least part of my family. But there is a part of my life that is missing, that I thought would be here by now. Or if not be here, then be on its way to here. Unfortunately it looks like it's going to take a lot longer than we hoped.
Have you guessed what I'm talking about yet?
Yep, that's right. Babies. Or rather, just one baby for now. We should have known it wasn't going to be easy, but it looks like it's going to be harder than we'd like.
And since you have to start somewhere, I'm going to start here. I need someone to vent to besides my poor husband, and I don't want to continually pester my busy friends who are already moms or who have a lot on their own plate already. I find writing very therapeutic, even if no one is going to read it. I've made a new blog specifically for this purpose, so I don't mix up my everyday life with this struggle we are going through.
So where do I start? I guess I can back it up a few years for those of you who don't know me. I had my first sign of trouble in 2011 when a large cyst on my ovary burst. It felt like someone was trying to gut me with a knife, the pain was so intense. I waited in an ER for hours in a hospital in Switzerland (where I was living at the time) before the scan showed the burst cyst and the fluid in my abdomen. There was so much fluid that it made it difficult to breathe so I had to stay upright in bed for a few days. I merrily moved on with my life, not thinking much about it until...
The next time I wasn't so lucky. In 2012, I felt the familiar stabbing, shuddering pain of a cyst and nearly didn't seek medical treatment because the cost was too high. The last time we had paid thousands for a short stay in the hospital - and it wasn't like they could even do anything for me. A kind friend convinced me (read: screamed at me until I gave in), that I should go see someone. Reluctantly I did, and when the doctor discovered a 6cm cyst on my ovary and a torsion of my fallopian tube, I was extremely grateful I had. I was immediately rushed to surgery to remove the cyst and untwist the tube and all seemed well. I was given my first warning then - if I wanted kids I should start trying... now! But I was only 25 and newly married and too busy for kids. So I waited.
A year passed, and another cyst appeared. It seemed to have burst before causing problems, and again, I was hospitalized. There seems to be a theme here....
My doctor at the time put me on Depo-provera as a way to control the large, reoccurring cysts. Depo-provera is an injectable birth control that is taken every 12 weeks. I was okay with using it at the time because kids were still in the future, and it decreased my chances of cysts. I stopped taking injections in December 2013, knowing that it could take 9 months to leave my system.
We continued to use a different form of birth control through August of the next year, because we were taking anti-malarial pills while we were in Africa and it is important to avoid pregnancy at that time. Then, we were off of them - huzzah! - and hoping to bring back a little souvenir from our trip in the form of a baby.
That was 8 months ago, and just yesterday the doctor has positively confirmed my diagnosis of Poly Cystic Ovary Syndrome, or PCOS. My last doctor tentatively diagnosed me, but never followed through with any of the additional tests. I've had a recent scan that shows one ovary riddled with small cysts, and my other ovary looks small but normal. The cysts in conjunction with my never ending cycle (it's day 102 or something ridiculous like that), confirms my diagnosis. PCOS means I create cysts instead of releasing eggs, which makes it very hard to get pregnant. My doctor seemed optimistic about my chances as he believes fertility drugs are very likely to work for me, as long as my fallopian tubes aren't damaged.
Now I'm onto my first step in the infertility process. I have been referred for a laproscopic surgery to investigate the state of my ovaries and fallopian tubes. That should be sometime in the next 10-12 weeks, and we'll go from there. My wonderful GP has already referred us to the fertility clinic, and we should be notified about an appointment in the next few weeks. This is all good news, because it means we are at least being seen and taking the necessary steps. But it's also big and scary, with possibly a long road ahead of us. I know some things are on my side - I'm still relatively young and at a good BMI - but sometimes I just feel helpless and frustrated and angry. I try to keep a positive attitude, but it doesn't always happen. I guess that's a normal part of the process too.
At the beginning of this post I asked if your life was what you thought it would be. For me, I had this thought as I walked through my exceptionally quiet and clean kitchen. Hubby and I bought this house to have a family in, but as of now its just us. For me, it is too quiet and too clean. I thought by now I'd be preparing for a little one to join us in our big empty house, but now, who knows how long until that dream is a reality. There's a saying people use in the TTC (trying to conceive) community, especially the infertility sections. They say they are wishing for their rainbow baby. The baby that comes after all the stress and unhappiness and anger and frustration and the feeling that it will never, ever happen. The baby that brightens the sky and reminds you of the good that can come from the bad. Often since moving to this lovely house, I catch myself looking out the window and wishing for my rainbow to appear.
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