Things have been quiet on the blog front – we have some fun things that may be happening soon that I can’t quite share yet, but I’ve also been debating on whether or not to share this post. I decided that I should.
Did you know that after trying unsuccessfully for one year to get pregnant, you can officially be considered infertile?
When I stopped taking birth control, and my period stopped coming, I thought it was only a matter of time until things righted themselves once again. After all, those pills can do crazy things to people. As months passed and my midwife suggested I go see a fertility specialist, I resisted. I didn’t need a specialist, that would mean that something was wrong, broken, needing to be fixed. After failed hormones and clomid, we finally decided I needed more intensive help.
I went to see a specialist at the Utah Center for Reproductive Medicine, and he told me at my very first visit, exactly what my problem was. Isn’t it fascinating and sad how our fear and pride can get in the way of us solving the very problem that we are afraid of?
Turns out I have polycystic ovarian syndrome – my eggs do not fully mature, causing them to get stuck and form cysts in my ovaries, which in turn means that I do not ovulate as a normal person should.
The good news is that I have plenty of eggs, and appear to be completely healthy otherwise. After trying the standard clomid, I was blasted with various hormones and medications that actually worked too well – we were told to hold off for a bit so we wouldn’t end up with quadruplets and the whole host of health problems that would follow. So now it is a bit of a waiting game, finding the correct dosage of medications and hoping everything else goes as it should. Huzzah!
This has been an interesting part of my life. The best word I can find to describe it is tiring. Worrying is tiring, waiting is tiring, the flood of hormones is tiring (I never really believed in hot flashes before, BUT I DO NOW). I have found that the more people I tell, and the more open I am, I feel a little lighter, a little more awake. My sweet friend Amanda has been particularly helpful.
I am so grateful for brilliant doctors, good insurance, and that fact that we live in a time and place where these things can be treated. I couldn’t ask for a better husband than Trey, who has never once been worried. When the fear would overflow and start to engulf me, he’d calmly pull me back up and remind me that everything will be alright.
A few weeks ago we went to the temple and did sealings. This, more than anything else, is what has made me feel at peace. Listening to people getting sealed to their parents, I realized how amazing all of those blessings are. They transcend time, afflictions, and even blood. I realized that I have full faith that I will be able to have children in this life, and if not, we will adopt, and I will have children in the next life – but no matter what happens, the blessings are exactly the same, and we will be sealed together as a family forever, which really, is the only thing that matters.
A few people have not quite known how to react once I’ve told them what’s going on, and all I can say is this – my frustration at not having my plan go exactly my way, in no way lessens my happiness for others and their babies.
We had a lesson in Young Women’s awhile ago (why do I still feel like those apply to me more than any relief society lesson ever could? Oh yeah, because my favorite TV shows, movies, and books are the same as my 14 year old girls) and we were told to do three things to be happy now.
1. Spend more time with those you love. I am trying my hardest to cherish this time with just Trey and I, because once it changes, it will never be the same. It will be awesome, but not the same. So for now, I am loving spontaneous dates, unhindered road trips, and The Walking Dead marathons (zombies!).
2. Strive to become the person you want to be. There are so many motherly qualities that I admire so greatly, and that I am so far from. It’s nice to know I can still work on them.
3. Be happy now. I have an amazingly good life. I don’t know how I got so blessed, but I am sure going to try to appreciate every second of it.
I was astounded the other day to realize that I actually felt a little bit of gratitude for this whole ordeal. Thinking back to where we were a year ago, and the person I was, I am so. much. more. prepared to be a mother. And I am nowhere near prepared enough. Whenever we have kids, I’m pretty sure I’m just going to be terrified from the day we find out, until…always. I do know that whenever we do start our family, it will be sweeter than it could have been (for me personally anyway) otherwise.
Maybe it’s just because I am at that age where my friends are trying to make babies instead of prevent them, or maybe people are just much more open in general about this sort of thing – but I know more people than I would ever wish to know who have in the past, or are currently now struggling with infertility. So many people have been fighting for much longer, and with much more difficult problems than me. My heart goes out to all of them. I count myself to be so, so lucky.
But seriously. The Walking Dead you guys.