Just Let Your Soul Clo...

I've officially fallen out of love with my hometown. We're back for the holidays, visiting family we haven't seen since Thanksgiving - and all I want to do is go home. I feel like being here is forced, and I don't want to do it. The first thing I did after plugging in the computer was look to see if there were any Greyhound buses going back to Cleveland any time tomorrow - there aren't, by the way.

We're going home on Christmas afternoon anyway, but as of this moment I am just so tired of being here - with the illogicality of a weepy three year old. No, seriously... I am tearing up as I write this! I almost broke into a sobbing "I wanna go home" whine when we were in the car heading back from dinner.

Last month's Clomid cycle was a bust. We aren't doing IUI yet - to me that's my last resort (we will not do IVF) but just timed intercourse. I did not ovulate from the side with a tube, which isn't to say that the tube couldn't have swept over to the opposite side to pick up the egg (yes, this happens) but it just didn't. I'm doing the same dosage of Clomid with TI again, but this time it has made me emotional. Very, very emotional - and I'm only on day 3/5 of the stuff. I hope that this cycle is "our cycle" because I don't feel like I could handle any more feeling the way I do.

My last cycle was pretty good. I did not temp, but I had a respectable luteal phase and a good, strong ovulation. I didn't have any mood swings - just hot flashes, dehydration and fatigue. Honestly, not a big deal to me. I'd rather be sleepy than turn into a monster.

This trip (so far) has been way too much for my tiny mind to handle. I feel like hiding until it's time to open presents, after which I would scurry to my car and get the fuck out of town. I know how completely selfish and bitchy this sounds, I do. The whole point of this blog is to document my thoughts. This isn't some pastel-drenched, poorly coded website where everyone feel obligated to write out "I love you" in cursive with their tongue on some stranger's chocolate starfish. Not today.

There comes a point when I know I'm being an asshole and I've fully reached that point. This makes me want to clam up and not say a word to anyone for fear of the unintended snark that might flow from my mouth. As soon as I'm done typing up this entry I'll probably go hide in the bedroom with Netflix until I pass out from exhaustion.

I had to rant, so I ranted. There it is. I hope everyone is having a better day than I am.

Congestion

I had two drafts set and ready to go for this blog that were written about 2 weeks ago. The fact is, I've been ridiculously busy, and this blog just wasn't a priority. We just moved into a newer, bigger place and most of my free time has been taken up with that. I've also been sick with a sinus infection.

Anyway... Let's talk about the HSG.

A hysterosalpingogram (HSG) is an X-ray test that looks at the inside of the uterus and fallopian tubes and the area around them. It often is done for women who are having a hard time becoming pregnant.

During a hysterosalpingogram, a dye (contrast material) is put through a thin tube that is put through the vagina and into the uterus. Because the uterus and the fallopian tubes are hooked together, the dye will flow into the fallopian tubes. Pictures are taken using a steady beam of X-ray (fluoroscopy) as the dye passes through the uterus and fallopian tubes. The pictures can show problems such as an injury or abnormal structure of the uterus or fallopian tubes, or a blockage that would prevent an egg moving through a fallopian tube to the uterus. A blockage also could prevent sperm from moving into a fallopian tube and joining (fertilizing) an egg.  (via WebMD)

If your doctor is considering Clomid or any other fertility drug/treatment for you, this procedure is one of the first things you should have done. Why? Consider the following, at the very least. Let's say that your OB wants to put you on Clomid, a powerful medicine that essentially stimulates ovulation. What if your tube(s) is/are blocked? Considering that there's a suggested lifetime limt of 6 (or 12, it depends on who you ask) doses of Clomid because there are studies that suggest an overuse of the medication can greatly increase your chances of ovarian cancer. You're essentially wasting your time.

When I started on this "journey" (I seriously hate calling it that) I drank the kool-aid and did a round of Clomid without any testing, even before my PCOS diagnosis - and that's wrong, wrong. You should be asking your doctor about a semen analysis for your husband/partner/donor and an HSG for you. If there is a male fertility issue then Clomid won't do shit for you. See above for why you should have an HSG. See below, in fact.

I had a blockage. My one and only tube was completely blocked when I had my HSG.

Now, a trip report. I scheduled my HSG for cycle day 9. They want to make sure you're absolutely not pregnant, and not in your fertile window before performing the test. Despite having a ridiculously heavy period and telling them so, I had to provide a urine sample for a pregnancy test. That kind of irked me, honestly. I'll be charged 10-12 bucks to pee on a Wondfo. Thanks.

Guess what? I was totally not pregnant. I know, you're as shocked as I am.

Then I took the test results and a copy of my requisition to the Radiology department. Once they called me back, I changed into a hospital gown and was taken to a room with a flat table and an x-ray machine in it. My RE and a Radiologist were there, and they explained the procedure to me.

I would start out with my knees up (no stirrups) and they would insert a speculum. After that a catheter and balloon would be inserted into my cervix. They explained that the catheter would likely be the most painful part of the procedure. Then they would use the x-ray machine above me to take pictures as they injected the dye through the catheter to see the shape of my uterus and status of my tube.

Once they did the speculum/catheter part, I put my legs flat down on the table for the rest of the procedure. They were shocked that I carried on a conversation with them as they inserted the catheter. I personally felt no more discomfort than I would during a pap. The pain during the dye portion of the procedure however, was significant (7 out of 10).

As the dye made its way through my uterus toward my tube, it met a blockage. I didn't know that at first, I just knew that I was experiencing an inescapable pain like nothing else I'd ever felt before. The RE had me tilt to my right, and then to my left. Relief. The blockage cleared and the dye spilled from my tube. I was advised that the cycle following an HSG is usually very fertile - so that's good!

Just because I had a tremendous amount of pain doesn't mean you shouldn't have this procedure done. My insurance doesn't cover it, but the hospital is more than willing to discuss payment plans with me, so don't let that be a deterrant either. I wanted to give you my experience if only to let you know that it can be painful.

The good thing is, my tube is clear now. The bad news is, I wasted a cycle of Clomid. Here's hoping this is the magic cycle!

Tough Love.

Today, I am 11 DPO.
Today, I am NOT pregnant.
Tomorrow? Who knows?

I know that many of you have an "I'm sorry" at the ready to post, the very moment you finish reading this post, and I politely ask that you do not. I don't doubt that you'd mean it, that's not it. I don't want you to feel bad for me, because there's no reason to. A large portion of infertility is not within your control. For my PCOS, I can improve things by losing weight. I'm doing that, and that's about all I can control.

As for the other stuff surrounding my diagnosis? How would it benefit me to worry all the time, or to take pity on myself? Misery is not fucking cathartic. By its own definition, it's a state or feeling of great distress or discomfort of mind or body - and that's pretty much the antithesis of catharsis.

Big. Words. Translation? It doesn't feel good to feel sad.

Sympathy has never really gone that far with me. I don't need my friends to feel sorry for me, or feel bad because my ovaries are full of dots... I just need my friends, in general. I do not feel an ounce of resentment for the people who have gotten pregant before me. I will need their experience and wisdom some day!!

If anything, I am angry.

The HSG I will have to have with my RE isn't covered, at all. No infertility testing or procedures are covered. The things I've read online tell me that it will cost me approximately 1000 dollars out of pocket. If I had both tubes, I'd be tempted to hedge my bets and not have it done - but that's not my situation. I know that's flameworthy and I don't care. Maybe I'll have a bake sale and sell muffins for the sake of my muffin. The point is, it SHOULD be covered. The fact that insurance companies would deny a diagnostic procedure that isn't being done for any cosmetic reason, is disgusting - but it's not something I can control in the present. (**I will also disclaim now that any attempt to debate politics/healthcare in this or any post will be ignored and probably deleted, so don't even try - that's not what this blog is here for.)

Don't mistake this post or the sentiments within for impassivity, because it's not. I'm very concerned about my infertility, and what I need to do to get pregnant. It's just not worth the gloom and doom I think some people expect me to have over it.

Après l'ovulation, l'attendre.

Hello, two week wait. It's been a LONG time. Let the phantom symptoms and wild speculations begin! Honestly though, all that stuff started over a week ago. I'm presently 8 days past ovulation (DPO) and in full over-analysis mode.

I won't tell you what twin parts of me currently hurt like nothing else, but I've had vivid dreams since about 3 DPO - and that's a new one for me. Last night, the dream was that I took a pregnancy test but it was negative because there was glitter instead of a second line. Then I took a second test (positive) and was trying to take a picture of it to share on Facebook (why?) and my husband refused to let me use the macro setting on his camera. I complained because I told him the iPod would take shitty photos. So I was in a bad neighborhood under a street lamp with the test on the ground, trying to take a picture. Behind me, two guys were breaking in to a house.

I will undoubtedly test early, and you're free to judge me for that. Point is, I have the tests and I can do whatever I want. Maybe some people couldn't handle a BFN at 9 DPO but I can.

In the past two weeks I've lost about 6-7 pounds because of my new diet. I'm cutting out most "white carbs" and processed sugars, and watching my glycemic load. Aside from my more recent fatigue (after work and exercise to be fair) I have way more energy, and I definitely look better. If you have PCOS and need to lose weight, you may want to look into this way of eating. I'm still trying to integrate more veggies and fruits, though. I'm thinking that I will get more in to smoothies (ones that *I* make) once we're settled in our new place.

RE appointment next week to discuss my bloodwork (FINALLY).

Accentuate the Positive OPK

It seems sort of cruel that I still can't be happy about the follicle and +OPK. In the back of my mind I'm afraid they're just machinations of my PCOS, because some women suffering from PCOS get constant positives on ovulation tests.

Why?

Because ovulation predictor tests will detect a surge in luteinizing hormone (LH) which is produced by the pituitary. Some women with PCOS will have a constant or near-constant elevation of this hormone.

I have to keep telling myself that this is my first positive in almost a year. It's probably not a cyst, but that doesn't mean it couldn't be. I keep falling back on the negative and I know that I shouldn't.  I guess we'll have to wait and see. My next ultrasound for the study was bumped up to Tuesday instead of Wednesday. I'm not a praying sort of person, but I'm hoping for a collapsed follicle by then.

 



Huh.

Well hello there.

How about that. 

FUPCOS

I had my first appointment with the Reproductive Endocrinologist a couple weeks ago, and it was great! I really felt like the RE was deeply concerned with why I'm not getting pregnant and he was quite caring and understanding.

Despite already having an ultrasound back in August, the RE wanted to do another. He reassured me, and said the nice thing about this second ultrasound is that he'd be able to tell me what he sees as we go along. The first ultrasound was not with the OB, and the tech can't really comment on what they see - But I could have sworn I heard him saying "cyst...cyst...cyst..."as he was doing the ultrasound. My OB said that my ultrasound was "normal".

When the RE "got in there" so to speak - it took him less than 30 seconds to determine that my diagosis is PCOS - or Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome.

One of my ovaries. The black circles are cysts/follicles. Too many.

So what is PCOS? Polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) is one of the most common female endocrine disorders. PCOS is a complex, heterogeneous disorder of uncertain etiology, but there is strong evidence that it can to a large degree be classified as a genetic disease. PCOS produces symptoms in approximately 5% to 10% of women of reproductive age (12–45 years old). It is thought to be one of the leading causes of female subfertility and the most frequent endocrine problem in women of reproductive age.

If you go by symptoms alone, you'd think all women with PCOS are fat, pimply, and mustachioed. While it is true that the majority of women with PCOS are overweight or obese, it's not that way for everyone. Not everyone has excess hair, or is insulin resistant. There's no cure for PCOS at this point, but doctors do recommend a diet low in processed foods and sugars - and that's what I'm trying to do. One of the doctors at the fertility clinic explained that it's very hard for overweight PCOS women to lose weight and admittedly that was a bit of a kick in the teeth. He assured me that a determined, dedicated person can do it, so that's what I'm going to have to be.

Determined, dedicated.

Never judge a book by its cover, kiddies. Despite being a little heavy, I'm quite active. I don't eat at fast food restaurants and I don't generally over-eat. I rode 100 miles back in August on my bicycle (in a single day!!) and training rides prior to that ride were at least 30 miles in length. It was very, very frustrating to work that hard and see my weight at a standstill, or to only lose a pound or two. At least I know why that's happening, now. That's how I have to view it. I got a lot of apologies and sympathy for receiving my diagnosis, and while it's appreciated... I'm actually relieved to have a diagnosis. It would drive me crazier to not know why things weren't working properly.

About a week after my diagnosis I went back to the fertility clinic to have blood drawn for various tests. I had to go in at 7:30 in the morning to make sure the clinic's nurse was able to follow through with my tests. One test I had done was a Glucose Tolerance Test or GTT to determine if I was insulin resistant. The test involved no eating/drinking after midnight. My blood was drawn for the GTT at the same time as for the other tests (11 vials in all!!). After the first blood draw, I had to drink a VERY sweet drink known as Glucola that had 75g of glucose. It was the sweetest thing I'd ever tasted. The sweetness of the drink burned my tongue, a little. After having half my blood drained and drinking several ounces of Uber Sunkist I had to go to the waiting room and wait - for two hours. At first I was horribly dizzy and nauseous. Have you ever thought for sure that you were going to throw up, so much so that you tried to stay as still as you could so you wouldn't get dizzier? Yeah, that was me. I sat quietly in the fertility clinic's waiting room and tried to locate the closest trash cans using only peripheral vision as my guide - just in case.

After 15 minutes or so I felt a little better, but was tired and had a horrible headache. I used music and Facebook on my iPod Touch to pass the time. I took a horribly unflattering picture of me yawning and posted it to my friends. After two hours they drew two more vials of blood they sent me on my way. I was pretty looped out the rest of the afternoon and had to eat fairly constantly to keep the sicky, dizzy feeling from coming back.

That was about a week ago and I haven't had the chance to talk to my RE about the results yet. I called to make an appointment but I can't get in to see him until Mid-November. I'm on cycle day 45 today and I feel kind of stalled/stuck, but I have to accept that there's nothing I can do about it.

In the meantime, I am participating in a study for PCOS vs. non-PCOS women. It involves a 3D ultrasound once a week. The behavior of the follicles/cysts on my ovaries are analyzed on a weekly basis. It's a high-tech way to tell if I'm ovulating or pregnant while the study is being conducted, that's for sure. I would have to leave the study if and when I begin medication and treatment since it would alter the results of the study. It doesn't get me any free fertility treatments or payment - it's strictly in the name of medical and scientific research. Since I'm married to a scientist and have a fairly analytical mind myself, I'm happy to do it. If my data can help doctors understand PCOS, then it's totally worth it.

My third ultrasound of the study is tonight. I had a dream last night that they found a collapsed follicle and told me that I just ovulated. Boy, that would be nice... Wouldn't it?

The Details are Spotty...

Fuck. I'm spotting again.

I started having spotting issues back in June when I was training for my century (100 mile) ride. If I rode more than 10-20 miles, I'd come home to a little cramping and spotting. It'd go away in a few days. When I got to mile 62 on my century ride, I stopped for lunch and a bathroom break. There was a lot of spotting, and clots. Then I bled for the next 60+ days. I could've bought stock in Kotex.

I did a round of Provera to "reset" things and had a hellish period, followed by no blood - and then sex. I got to have sex that wasn't on a dark towel!! Then, I spotted again. I panicked, then thought it might be pre-ovulation spotting. It stopped. I rode my bike about 15 miles the other day and came home to spotting again. It hasn't stopped, and even gets worse when I exercise. Why me?

I'm an active person so this breaks my heart. I don't want to stop exercising but I also don't want to bleed anymore. When exercise = blood, it makes me want to curl up in comfy pants and do nothing. It's not really logical, but part of me thinks inactivity = no blood. That has yet to be true. RE visit is in a week. Still remaining positive, but I swear to god that I can't win, sometimes.

I Less Than Three You, Ovulation.

This one will be short because it's the weekend and we're making pizza together, but I had to put this down somewhere. As I was cutting pepperoni, I asked my husband if I was doing the right thing by seeing a Reproductive Endocrinologist. He said he didn't know, and I clarified that I wanted his personal opinion.

"Well if you don't ovulate pretty soon, I guess it'd be a good idea" is what he told me. Then, he asked how many times I've ovulated in the past 12 months. I had to think about it for a moment, but then I remembered.

...Twice.

Yeah, it hit me pretty hard when I said it out loud. It's definitely time to see the RE.

Owner of a Lonely Ute

My life seems to move at different speeds simultaneously.

There's the day-to-day stuff, which proceeds at a normal pace. Time goes by as it should. Then, there's GPT - or "getting pregnant time". GPT feels like the last five minutes of a class feels; five minutes feels like an eternity. The "two week wait" can really suck. Waiting to ovulate can suck even more, especially when your body can't seem to get that part right. You don't even get to do that whole two week waiting thing.

GPT is nerve-wracking.

It's October, and now it's officially been one year since I started trying for a baby. In spite of the time the money I've spent on ovulation tests, pregnancy tests, blood work, and ultrasounds - even with the tears I have shed over every negative pregnancy test - I can look back on the past year and say that overall, it's been pretty good.

There are dark days, of course. Infertility isn't really good dinner table discussion material, and because of that - infertility can be very lonely. I don't want to discuss it with my family, and even before my cycles started to go horribly awry, I never saw a point in telling any of them that we were trying. Making a baby is very personal, and very intimate. I will love nothing more than to delight in a pregnancy with my family, but I doubt I could bear the questions of when I was going to get pregnant. I don't care to hear about anyone's "tried and true" tricks to getting pregnant, either.

It's also kind of gross to me, to clue in my nearest and dears that raised and loved me as a baby myself, that I'm having lots of sex, that my charming husband is ejaculating inside me in hopes of creating a baby. They all know how babies are made, I don't want to remind them.

I have the closest relationship with my husband ever. He is my rock, and my support on the dark days - but all the love in the world can't make a man able to empathize with anovulation, with hormonal mood swings. I bet he would if he could, but he can't, and that's OK.

The internet is GREAT for support, however. There are so many people that have touched my life that I have never even met, that are going through similar struggles. I am so grateful for their friendship and time that they've devoted to listening to my fears, to comforting me, and giving me support. I hope if there's someone out there who feels so very alone, that they will see this and know that they're not alone. There are a LOT of people out there to connect with.

Earlier this week, someone (on a message board) told me they couldn't understand why people blog about their lives. I can only imagine that she never had something she couldn't tell anyone else, a secret she couldn't keep, or a day that was so dark that she just wanted to give up.

If that's true, I hope she considers herself very lucky.

Obviously, blogging isn't for everyone - and neither is baring your soul to an internet message board. It takes a strong person to be able to share their struggle with people that are under no familial obligation to pray for them, love them, or care for them.

Even if you can't understand why someone would write about their troubles in this way, please try and understand that infertility can be a long and lonely thing to deal with. What seems strange and alien to you - makes the GPT go faster, for me.

Pilot Episode

There's a statistic that says 85 percent of couples get pregnant within 12 months/cycles. Four doses of Provera and 5 anovulatory cycles (out of 7), and one year later I can safely say...

I am the 15%.


I think most people have a rose-tinted view of trying to get pregnant - and why shouldn't you? You get to have sex. UNPROTECTED sex. You're creating a new life, and adding to your family. The sex is better. The bond between you and your partner is deepened by the profound and overwhelming love you feel for one another. Every day is magical - and at the end of your perfect 28 day cycle, you see two blaringly pink lines staring you in the face, signifying what you've known in your heart for at least a week now - you're pregnant.

Of course, not everyone gets pregnant on the first try. As you sit at work picking out cloth diaper covers and onesies on Etsy you feel a familiar feeling.

You know the one.

In a panic, you grab the pad from your purse that you didn't want to have to wear for the next nine months and run to the washroom - only to confirm that "she" has arrived.





Hello, shark week. Damn you.


That was the take on my own first cycle, anyway. After coming off birth control, I thought it'd be easy. I thought I'd get pregnant right away. My extremely sensitive boobs and craving for bologna sandwiches HAD TO mean something, right?

When I wasn't pregnant that first time, I was DEVASTATED. I silently cursed those who got pregnant so easily, so effortlessly. I assumed the worst - that something was wrong, that something wasn't normal.

It wasn't all shit, though. After I stopped taking the pill, my emotions were on hyperdrive - and I loved it. There's a line in King of the Hill after Connie starts her period where her mother tells her, "You see Titanic on the right day, it blow you away.". I watched the new Muppet movie and was sobbing through most of it. My husband awkwardly rubbed my shoulders and hugged me as I cried because I figured out that Andrew Bird was the one whistling in the film.

Sex is WAY better off of the pill - I honestly had a moment where (during sex) I thought to myself... "So THIS is what being aroused  feels like!". It was an awakening.

After the first cycle or two, things didn't go so well. I stopped ovulating. Cycles were lasting anywhere from 65 to 77 days. I started having to take Provera to "reset" my cycles. Most recently? I bled and spotted for over 60 days (had to wear a pad the whole time) and am now currently in the midst of the worst period I can ever remember having. For a few days, I'd soak  an overnight pad in two hours or less. I didn't even want to sleep in my own bed because I thought I'd bleed through the pad, my undies, my pants and onto our 800 thread count sheets (that were a wedding present). I shied away from Zumba, and other things that I love because I hated that feeling of bleeding heavily.
Of course, the flow HAS to decrease the day after I spent 8 dollars on an embarrassingly large package of overnight pads. Now that the bleeding is subsiding, I feel like I can finally start acting like a quasi-normal person. I plan on going for a run, and exercising a little. We'll see how that goes. I started taking iron because I've just been so damn tired.

Maybe my rose-tinted glasses are gone, but I'm more aware of my body than I've ever been, and my husband is incredibly supportive. I am somehow more optimistic than I was at the beginning, but that's hard to explain why. It does make the failed cycles hurt a little more, but I can deal with that easier now.

Rather than plague any specific person(s) with my own personal take on infertility - I will take you on as my willing audience, rather than a captive one. I will try and promise to keep my negativity to a minimum, even on bad days (I also make this promise to myself on a day-to-day basis).