B and I spent a beautiful weekend camping. We cooked s'mores, slept on a deflating air mattress, saw a bear(!), and even happened upon an apple butter celebration on a mountain top (for real).
It was a nice, relaxing, break from reality... but now I'm back.
I am trying another month of metformin, progesterone, clomid, before seeing an actual reproductive endocrinologist. In October, it will be 16 months that I've been struggling with infertility.
I'm not sure if it's because of the fact that I'm dealing with the military healthcare system, or that being brought up in a family who pretty much never went to the doctors has rendered me ill equip to handle anything of medical nature and has made me a terrible advocate for myself, or that (based on various comments from my doctors who told me that I'm "still so young," that I "have plenty of time," and "should have no trouble getting pregnant") I'm not a priority in the infertility world, but I feel like my treatment process has taken longer than it should.
We found out I had PCOS in Biloxi, and decided to start actively trying to conceive because it was clear it would be a struggle. The doctor immediately started me on a regimen of progesterone and clomid for three months, upping my dosage each time. With no pregnancy and no ovulation, we would have continued the medicine with monitoring and done further testing to make sure my fallopian tubes and all that stuff was working properly. But then we moved. I couldn't make an appointment with women's health until I had a referral from my primary physician, who didn't have an open appointment for six weeks. I started crying in the doctors office and I guess they pitied me and pulled some strings to get me in sooner with another doctor. From that appointment, It took me a month to get in to see my OB/GYN and restart the whole process, only she did not want to continue the clomid treatments until we tried less serious medicine. I was totally cool with that, until it became clear that the metformin was not having it's intended results.
She never thought it was necessary to see me in person, when I'd call she'd forget what she'd told me the time before and completely change her mind... "let's try another three months on the same dose, and then we'll add the clomid" after she'd told me the month prior that if I hadn't started menstruating in a month, we'd start with clomid... this, by the way, after she'd been telling me from the start, and through five months of metformin, that she wouldn't feel comfortable giving me a period inducing drug or trying clomid. It took eight months of ineffective treatments and getting brushed off and fed more medicine before I finally got a referral to an infertility specialist.
Today I tried to make an appointment with the RE that I should have been sent to several months ago, but apparently they're "at capacity," so I have an appointment for a month from now with an RE that's even further away, with a super sketchy looking website, and I feel totally helpless.
Do I even have a choice? I have no idea how TRICARE works. I think I could ask to see another specialist since they're already sending me off base, but I don't even know what kind of paperwork would go into that, or where I'd start. And what if I actually get pregnant? My referral is for 6 appointments only. By then maybe they'd have space for me at Portsmouth, which is an hour away, if traffic is good, which it never is, so it's more like two. What if I had an emergency and got stuck in the tunnel? My worst nightmare (aside from the one where I never get pregnant) is that I do, and I end up having a complication and having to go to some random hospital with some doctor I've never met. I guess that's part of the deal with infertility. I can either be a confused, helpless, victim, or I can become an advocate for myself. I need to start playing a more active role in my treatment. If I'm unhappy with the care that I am getting, I can, and should speak up. Easier said than done, but I'm resolved to try.
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