Where It All Began
Brandon and I didn't start really trying for a baby until we moved to Eureka. We stopped using protection and nothing happened. In those two years, I just chalked it up to not trying at the "right time" or stress from living in a town so small that I disliked deeply. When we moved to Pratt three years ago, I finally told myself it was time to get set up with a doctor and start doing the yearly womanly thing regularly, as I had been avoiding it up to that point. I found a doctor in Wichita at a clinic that was staffed only by women. That was a relief, as I'm not 100% sold on a male gyno. I went in and began to ask questions that first time. That was November of 2012.
I went in for fasting labs and a general pelvic exam. I was brought back in December after a phone call that let me know I wasn't producing enough progesterone to show any sign of ovulation. I was scared at that point. I knew ovulation was kind of important in order to have a baby. I went in for a visit and was put on Clomid. They started me off at 50 mg and said if it worked that month, I'd stay on that dosage and would get three months for a result. Nothing happened. I started getting the Day 21 blood work done in Pratt to avoid sick days for blood work, but they would often forget to send the results to my doctor. Almost seven months later, we finally determined that because I typically have a 35 day cycle, I might ovulate closer to Day 28. Without checking to see if I ovulate without the medicine, my dosage was once again upped to 150 mg. I was only 50 mg away from the max level they would prescribe. It finally worked, but again, they never checked to see if I ovulated on my own. It worked a second month and still no positive pregnancy test. As the time went by into the third month, my hopes were slowly diminishing. The third time, it worked again, so we waited into the fourth month to see if I would produce a positive, but again, I was faced with the words "Not Pregnant" staring at me. Each month it got harder to look at the test. In March of 2014, we decided that with the length of time it took to get from November of 2012 to then, that it was time to order an SA for Brandon.
That month was terrible. The emotions were already difficult to deal with just being on Clomid, but knowing that that hadn't done anything for us made it even more difficult to not cry at every baby announcement or newborn photo I saw on Facebook or heard about through friends. Brandon broke his ankle that month as well. We held off on the SA because we were in the doctor's office every week for two months getting x-rays to make sure he didn't need surgery. It became more distant in my mind to deal with infertility, though the low feelings were definitely still there.
In July, I had to go to our physician here in town with some foot pain. While there, I found out that the PA had had fertility problems when they started trying. She said that what helped was Metformin and once she got into a habit of taking that, she tried Clomid with it and bam! It worked! So, I was prescribed Metformin. Now, I am the first to admit, I am terrible at taking daily medicine. That is part of my own personal frustrations. Even as I write this, I realize it's been a week since I took my medicine and even my vitamins.
As the 2014-15 school year kicked off, I knew my time of getting Brandon over to Wichita for the SA was growing dimmer with his busy schedule. And as I write this, we still haven't gotten him over there. I have my own frustrations with this, but I won't tell him because he's busy enough as it is. So, in May, after school gets out and when we are on our way to visit friends in Missouri, we WILL stop at the office and get this stupid thing done so that in June, I can go in to the reproductive endocrinologist knowing that we are at the right step.
That's where we are at now. There are many blocked posts on Facebook. I just can't do it anymore. I've turned down baby showers. It just hurts too much some days. Brandon deals with it differently, which I'm grateful for, but also envious that it doesn't seem to phase him as much as it does me. I cry a lot...at big things, at little things...at months that AF shows up and I've just spent the last how many days and nights praying for a chance. I don't talk about it with people that much. I feel like a burden with it. I stopped bringing it up in my women's group at church because no one understands (minus one gal). I don't talk to some of my best friends about it because they don't understand. I have one person I can talk to here in Pratt that fully understands the female side of this. I don't even talk to Brandon that much about my feelings and frustrations, which I know I should, but I feel like a broken record.
So, for now, I'll just say I cry and pray and wish and hope. And I'm scared.
I went in for fasting labs and a general pelvic exam. I was brought back in December after a phone call that let me know I wasn't producing enough progesterone to show any sign of ovulation. I was scared at that point. I knew ovulation was kind of important in order to have a baby. I went in for a visit and was put on Clomid. They started me off at 50 mg and said if it worked that month, I'd stay on that dosage and would get three months for a result. Nothing happened. I started getting the Day 21 blood work done in Pratt to avoid sick days for blood work, but they would often forget to send the results to my doctor. Almost seven months later, we finally determined that because I typically have a 35 day cycle, I might ovulate closer to Day 28. Without checking to see if I ovulate without the medicine, my dosage was once again upped to 150 mg. I was only 50 mg away from the max level they would prescribe. It finally worked, but again, they never checked to see if I ovulated on my own. It worked a second month and still no positive pregnancy test. As the time went by into the third month, my hopes were slowly diminishing. The third time, it worked again, so we waited into the fourth month to see if I would produce a positive, but again, I was faced with the words "Not Pregnant" staring at me. Each month it got harder to look at the test. In March of 2014, we decided that with the length of time it took to get from November of 2012 to then, that it was time to order an SA for Brandon.
That month was terrible. The emotions were already difficult to deal with just being on Clomid, but knowing that that hadn't done anything for us made it even more difficult to not cry at every baby announcement or newborn photo I saw on Facebook or heard about through friends. Brandon broke his ankle that month as well. We held off on the SA because we were in the doctor's office every week for two months getting x-rays to make sure he didn't need surgery. It became more distant in my mind to deal with infertility, though the low feelings were definitely still there.
In July, I had to go to our physician here in town with some foot pain. While there, I found out that the PA had had fertility problems when they started trying. She said that what helped was Metformin and once she got into a habit of taking that, she tried Clomid with it and bam! It worked! So, I was prescribed Metformin. Now, I am the first to admit, I am terrible at taking daily medicine. That is part of my own personal frustrations. Even as I write this, I realize it's been a week since I took my medicine and even my vitamins.
As the 2014-15 school year kicked off, I knew my time of getting Brandon over to Wichita for the SA was growing dimmer with his busy schedule. And as I write this, we still haven't gotten him over there. I have my own frustrations with this, but I won't tell him because he's busy enough as it is. So, in May, after school gets out and when we are on our way to visit friends in Missouri, we WILL stop at the office and get this stupid thing done so that in June, I can go in to the reproductive endocrinologist knowing that we are at the right step.
That's where we are at now. There are many blocked posts on Facebook. I just can't do it anymore. I've turned down baby showers. It just hurts too much some days. Brandon deals with it differently, which I'm grateful for, but also envious that it doesn't seem to phase him as much as it does me. I cry a lot...at big things, at little things...at months that AF shows up and I've just spent the last how many days and nights praying for a chance. I don't talk about it with people that much. I feel like a burden with it. I stopped bringing it up in my women's group at church because no one understands (minus one gal). I don't talk to some of my best friends about it because they don't understand. I have one person I can talk to here in Pratt that fully understands the female side of this. I don't even talk to Brandon that much about my feelings and frustrations, which I know I should, but I feel like a broken record.
So, for now, I'll just say I cry and pray and wish and hope. And I'm scared.
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