I'll start the story about 3 years ago. It was Labor Day weekend, and Brian and I were headed to St.Michael's to celebrate our 1st wedding anniversary. On the car ride there I told Brian I was really uncomfortable, and there was something wrong in my lower abdomen. It was pain and there was pressure, and it felt not right at all. I was maybe a few weeks late. Even though we used contraception, I took a pregnancy test before the trip. It was negative. Whew. We weren't ready yet.
He said if I was concerned maybe I should just go to the doctor when we got back. So I did. And little did I know that trip to St.Michael's would be the last time in a long time where I felt carefree about my life.
The doctor said everything was probably fine but he'd run a panel of blood work. Well, time crept on after that, and they never called with the results. So I decided to call them, and when I did NO ONE would give me my results. They said only the doctor could tell me. So I set a phone appointment for Friday afternoon, right before I was to go out to dinner with my newly pregnant friend.
I texted my friend I'd be a little late because he hadn't called yet. He called me at 6 o'clock to deliver the news. He told me I had some hormonal imbalances. It would affect my fertility. He rambled off numbers I wrote on a post it. Brian watched as tears streamed down my face. I wiped them away because I had to leave to go to dinner. But I called my mom to tell her during my drive to the restaurant and the tears flooded back.
I cried for days.
And even though we knew out best chance at having a baby was to start trying right away, it was too scary. Mainly financially. We lived in a one bedroom condo. We couldn't afford a baby. There was no space for a crib.
Then in November after many long talks and bouts of inconsolable crying, we began trying to conceive. We weren't going to lose our minds over it, just the old fashion boy and girl make baby stuff.
Well, in March, things changed drastically. I went in for a pap smear and was called very soon after to come in for an ultrasound. I made Brian come with me because I was so confused. The afternoon after the ultrasound (yes, the exact same day), they asked me to come in the next day for an endometrial biopsy. Side note: Something I've now learned is when something is really wrong, doctors never delay tests/procedures.
When we went in for the procedure I asked why they were doing it. The nurse said it as casually as a waitress reading off the daily specials, "we're checking you for cancer." The doctor explained to me that my lining was very thick, and that's basically how endometrial cancer starts. Of course, if it's a late stage cancer it's treated much like other cancers but it's an extremely dangerous form of cancer as it can spread to surrounding internal organs easily. But in it's early stages, it meant a hysterectomy.
Holy shit, I'm 25 years old, and we're talking about an invasive form of cancer and a hysterectomy. I didn't know how to tell my mom. I didn't want to scare anyone, even though I was scared out of my mind. I remembered thinking it was too early to leave Brian, we were practically newlyweds, and I prayed so hard for everything to be okay. I told God if he saved me I'd never ask him for kids again. Words that still chill me when I think of them.
I was going to be home alone when they called with the results. My mom refused to let that happen and rushed out of work to sit with me. We watched Oprah while we waited for the call. And they called and told me the biopsy came back negative; I didn't have cancer. I had endometrial hyperplasia and polyps but no cancer. Thank God.
However, this was the turning point. We became more scientific with our trying to conceive. We knew that I could lose my lady parts, and we didn't have all the time in the world like every other couple. And fuck it if we had to live in a teeny leaky condo with our baby. It didn't matter. It wasn't our dream or our plan but it didn't matter one bit.
I would go long stretches without my period. We visited an endocrinologist. She prescribed metformin. It made me sick but it also did not work at all. They upped the dosage and gave me extended release tablets. Still, nothing. I charted. No ovulation. We went to Boston, I was a month late, and I took a pregnancy test at Wellsley Country Club. Classy. Nothing. 3 months without a period, I got provera to induce a bleed. It regulated me for two cycles. The first we did everything right, no pregnancy. The second, the faintest line you've ever seen! Yay! Period a couple days later. Then back to no ovulating and no periods. Unsure if I wanted to start Clomid due to my latest doctor appointment saying my cholesterol was dangerous. Decided screw it, threw caution to the wind and asked for Clomid. Did diagnostic tests before starting. Started Clomid and progesterone. 1,2,3... fail, fail, fail.
For those who wonder where I calculate literally years of trying to conceive. This covers the two years before I saw a fertility specialist for 7 months before getting pregnant. People may not count this because there aren't fancy acronyms like IUI or IVF. But trust me when I tell you, there were plenty of tears and more than enough heartache. There were doctor's visits, blood draws, testing, charting, medicines, and more negative pregnancy tests than I care to admit. The stress was unbearable. My hair fell out, and my eyelids would scale after months of no period. I didn't know how to explain my physical appearance to people so I called it "hormone therapy".
Everyone is different but we did not choose a fertility clinic right away. We choose to think we could do it on our own. We see people hop to the clinic as their first step and wonder if they needed that help as badly as we did. We truly learned we had no chance on our own and are so thankful for amazing doctors and assistive reproductive technology.
And people would say to me that I was young and I had time. But I could vividly remember a few weeks when I was 25 when I realized you can be young and out of time. The thing is, I'm rare. Someone at 27 requiring IVF to get pregnant is highly unlikely; something much less than 1%. Someone who's had 3 internal biopsies to check for female reproductive cancer before the age of 28 is also rare.
I get frustrated when women act like fertility treatment is commonplace. One - it's not. Second - the abuse of this technology is disgusting, and I say that as someone who truly needed it. I hear of women using ART for minor problems that can be corrected with medicine alone, and I cringe.
This is 2 years and 7 months that changed me as a person. I wear those 31 months like the badge of honor they are. They made me strong as hell.
And people can say 3 IUI's and a round of IVF. But Brian always says to me, if only people really knew.
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