It's been a long road thus far, and I wonder if we will ever reach the end.. I often wonder where this road is leading us. It seems like everyone around me is (or already has been) on the road to starting a family, and we're getting left in the dust.
But we're still driving.
I have always subconsciously known that having children was going to be difficult for me. Even as a young teenager, I knew. My first period almost killed me, and subsequent ones, although infrequent, felt like my insides were being ripped out. I did my research, and wondered if I might have PCOS (poly cystic ovary syndrome); my symptoms were exact matches to the literature. I sometimes laugh when I think back. If it was that obvious to an uneducated teenager, why were the doctors not figuring it out?
Fast forward about 15 years.
It finally occurs to my vaginacologist that I'm of childbearing age and not having a period. She suggests an HSG test to try to find a reason. For those of you fertile myrtles who have never had to endure an HSG test, here's the scoop. You lay on an exam table, naked and spread eagle, and the doctor injects dye into your who-ha, uterus, tubes, etc. to see if there's a blockage. It hurts like a sonofabitch. To put it mildly. Good news: no blockage. Bad news: septate uterus. Meaning: my uterus was v-shaped rather than egg shaped. Solution: surgery. (yay). The surgery itself isn't too bad surprisingly, since they go up thru my who-ha, rather than slice my tummy open. They basically just cut and pasted my uterus into the right shape. And then they insert a balloon catheter to keep the surgical sites from adhering to each other. Easy peasy, right? Wrong. My uterus didn't scar to itself. Instead, it scarred to the catheter, and no one knew it until the doctor went to pull the cath out 2 weeks later and it didn't move. His exact words? "I do believe it's stuck. Here's some tylenol." And he yanks it out. Literally. The man almost fell off his stool. That was the last of my infertility exploration for a while.
Fast forward another few years.
Married and still baby-less, my husband and I seek out another doctor. This time we land a good one (thank God)! She suggests an ultrasound, which revealed the string of black pearls inside my ovaries. Hello PCOS! Another test is suggested, to check the status of my uterus. Surprisingly, there is no scar tissue, and doc says I have a "beautiful cavern." Ha! That's funny!
Further tests reveal that my husband's boys don't swim well. So basically, we're reproductively doomed. Doc says that the only way we will ever have biologic children is by IVF (in virto fertilization), No worries, it's only $15,000. And by the way, insurance doesn't cover it. Gee, thanks Doc.
Fast forward another year.
I discover that there are 14 states which require mandatory infertility insurance coverage, so I get online and start looking for jobs in those states. Amongst my web surfing, I discover a group called INCIID, InterNational Council for Infertility Information Dissemination. This group claims to offer a scholarship for an IVF cycle. I bookmark it, and move on. Dear hubby doesn't sound too interested. Skeptical may be a better word. The word 'scam' was brought up. But nothing stands between a woman and her baby. I printed off the mountain of paperwork, and start making calls to get all the required documents in line. It takes me 5 months to get everything in order, notorized, and shipped off to the magic baby fairies.
They said it could take months to be selected or rejected. It took less than a month for us to receive word that we had been selected for the scholarship. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was sitting in the chair at the dentist office, waiting for a root canal, when I decided to check my messages one last time. There was our award letter! I don't remember a thing about the root canal.
The next step is fundraising. Since INCIID is a non-profit agency, scholarship recipients must raise $3500 by promoting INCIID, and raising awareness for infertility. It took us just over 6 months to complete this task. I am now the queen of fundraising. Unofficially, of course. You name it, we sold it. From ribbons, to baked goods, to tote bags and cookware, We ran our story in the local paper, and even got some donations from people we had never met. The outpouring of support was overwhelming.
This brings me to present time. The waiting game. And waiting, and waiting, and waiting. It's been 4 months since we sent in the last of our fundraising money, and we are waiting to be matched with a clinic to begin our IVF procedure. They say it can take months to be matched with a clinic, so I am trying to be patient. Patience is not my strong suit. I'm not sure that it's anyone's strong suit, really, but it's definitely not mine. It's probably a good thing that we are in limbo tho, because our health insurance hasn't kicked in yet. Hubby's job is giving him the run around, or so it seems like to me. Or maybe it's just my impatience again. Or maybe it's the fact that everyone around me is having babies! There's something in the water around here. But we get our water shipped in, so I guess that explains that. But seriously, why is it that when you want something so bad, so bad that it hurts, everyone has it but you? I'm not at all saying that I'm not excited for my friends and family who are fertile myrtles. I really am! And I'm jealous! But it's all good. I know that in the end, when our time finally comes, we will love and appreciate our child(ren) more than anyone on the earth. And at that time, we will be truly blessed...
