What would it have been like if we conceived naturally
within months? Two years in and believe
it or not, I’m only now just beginning to think of that scenario. I don’t feel sadness, anger, or really any
emotion. I just know it would have been
different. We would not have known the
struggle of having a child, I certainly would not be as educated as I am now
about our reproductive systems. I never
would have known the sensitivity of others who are fertility challenged when
talking about babies. We would have
already made it through the newborn phase, witnessed a first tooth, had
countless sleepless nights, we would be parents.
Friday, August 22nd, my husband and I visited
with our fertility specialist. Three
cycles ago I was put on Endometrin to help sustain my uterine lining in the
luteal phase. Right after ovulation every
month I would spot until my period arrived. The first cycle on Endometrin I had no
spotting – I was ecstatic! I had been
requesting a progesterone supplement for a few years, but my doctors would not
budge (yes, I saw multiple doctors in search for an answer to the
spotting). Second cycle, the spotting
started on cycle day 10 – this had never happened before and I was
devastated. Was my body playing some
type of cruel joke on me? Third cycle,
no spotting again! On this fourth cycle,
the spotting started right when my LH surge was directed – amazingly, I didn’t
have any strong emotions about this, but rather intrigued – my body was like
dysfunctional clockwork, but at least there was a pattern here.
Sitting in the doctor’s office my mind starts to
wander. There are times that this seems
like a foggy “dream” – we’re just wading in this abyss, looking for that ray of
light that will lead us out. I long for
that day when I get to show my husband a positive test – when we get to
announce to our family and friends that we are expecting – when I get to hold
my son or daughter and when I am tired from nightly feedings or the baby won’t
stop crying, I’ll be able to look back on these times and appreciate all that
comes with being a parent.
My doctor is a quirky, cool, chic New Yorker – I wouldn’t go
as far as to say she’s entertaining, but when she calls my uterus “beautiful”
and says my lining is “gorgeous” one can’t help but snicker, no matter how
painful this journey is. I’m thankful
for that – my husband and I can laugh at some parts of our visit and it helps
elevate the mood. Three months ago my
doctor briefly mentioned IUI, but first we wanted to try a few cycles on
progesterone. This visit, IUI was
mentioned again – I like my doctor a lot because she does not pressure and
really tries to do the least invasive treatments first. Next cycle, just a week or so from today,
I’ll start Clomid for five days and go in for monitoring – we’ll try to
conceive naturally first, which makes me happy.
I’m also happy about the monitoring of my uterus – I’ve been telling my
husband that I wish I had a private doctor who could do an ultrasound every day
to see what in the world is going on with the spotting. So, I’ll take this as the next best thing.
I think my husband is much more comfortable with IUI than I
am – I really don’t want to have to conceive that way. There isn’t anything wrong with it, but for
me personally, and I think for most other women who are fertility challenged, I
want to conceive as naturally as possible.
We haven’t reached that bridge yet…I’m hoping the Clomid helps, but IUI seems
to be creeping on the horizon.
About six months into trying to conceive I started looking more heavily into my spotting and the whole menstrual cycle. Prior to trying to conceive, I would Google, rather frequently, looking for answers as to why I was spotting. At this point, I can say it was borderline obsessive. Inevitably, my searches led me to the baby boards and I remember seeing all these acronyms and references to “trigger shots”, “Clomid”, “HSG”, and a world of other fertility treatment jargon. I remember thinking “Holy crap, these poor women and what they do to themselves”. Now, here I am, two years later, going down a similar path. I equate this to wading into the ocean, or really any body of water, your choice. You take little steps at a time, slowly easing yourself into the cold water, and before you know it, you’re so far out that you can’t even see the shoreline anymore. I wonder how far out we’ll go, how far until we swim back ashore, with a baby or not. Will we even realize how far out we’ve gone? What happens when one of us wants to keep swimming out and the other thinks it’s time to head in?
I’m looking forward to our next cycle – I’m pretty sure I’m
out this cycle as I started spotting so early.
My doctor said this still should not impair pregnancy, but after two
years of this, I can’t say I’m exactly hopeful.
I’m curious to see what the ultrasound shows in the different stages,
how many eggs I’ll produce, and whether the ovulation predictor kits have been
right. I’m hoping to find an answer that
I’ve been after for years.
So, what is the spectrum of “Natural” – is taking hormone
therapy anymore natural than trying IUI or IVF?
Where do you draw the line for yourself?
Maybe you don’t know until the time arrives. A year ago I was sure that I would be
adamantly against IUI – yet yesterday, I called my insurance to see what they
would cover, you know, “just in case”.
Maybe the whole “fertility challenged” process is actually natural once we strip out
the details and break it down to the simplest measure – our biological desire
to procreate. We, as lifeforms, have an
innate calling to reproduce – whether that happens through conceiving in your
bed at home or through treatment in your doctor’s office – we are trying to
fulfill a biological destiny and it doesn’t get any more natural than that.
