So I had an appointment for an ultrasound marked in my calendar for Thursday the 13. I know this was the correct day because it was supposed to be three days after my last clomid pill. I got up early, drove an hour and a half to the clinic, and it was closed. They run late sometimes, so I didn't really think much of it. I mean I was annoyed.. but at least I was sitting waiting in my car rather than sitting in the ultrasound room, vagina out, waiting for the doctor for 40 min. So after 20 minutes I called the office again and the answering service answered. The girl was a real bitch about it too. "Ummmm... the office is closed" But I had an appointment. "Okaaaaaaaay, what do you want me to do?" I don't know why they would have made an appointment with me when they're closed. "Um, yeah, that's because your appointment was yesterday. Wednesday the 12th at 8:30. So, you missed it." I was so upset I cried the whole way home. Now I have no idea if I've ovulated and I don't know what the plan is moving forward. I had my questions all ready, I just wanted to know SO badly what was going on in my body.
I know that I'm fed up with with the Beach Center for Infertility. Dr. Flood is fine. I actually like her quite a bit, but her staff are idiots. I spent the several hours following my brush off from the answering service girl calling all kinds of different numbers to figure out how to change my referral to a different clinic. It's all a big mess. So much bureaucracy, it's just outrageous. I had to call tricare, who told me how to search for another provider, which I found and called to make sure they were accepting patients. They were, so I called the tricare appointment line, who directed me to Langley, who directed me to the office where my Primary Care Physician works. The woman I talked to did not understand why I was told I needed a referral from my Primary, when I had already been referred to Women's Health and then referred again to Portsmouth and then referred again to VA Beach. They were supposed to call yesterday afternoon and let me know if I would have to make an appointment with with Primary to get the referral. Of course, no call. They haven't called yet this morning either. Anyway, it's all very annoying and I have no idea how it's going to work out, but I would really like to go to Richmond instead of VA beach for treatments. I mean, ideally there would be a clinic within a reasonable distance that accepts my insurance, but no such luck with that, so Richmond is the next best thing. Plus, I like Richmond, they have a bunch of great restaurants.
Until I can get that referral, I have rescheduled, and called to verify, an appointment for Monday. Hopefully I will have more to update then. I'm curious to find out if I ovulated, how close I am to ovulating, whether I need more clomid to grow my follicles or a trigger shot if they're okay sized and I just haven't ovulated. I will be asking about an HSG test and the test for luteal phase defect which I was supposed to have done last cycle but (big surprise) my clinic dropped the ball and closed early the day I needed to call and make the appointment and didn't return my phone call for three days.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
PCOS and The Holidays
This is the second holiday season I've endured since my PCOS diagnosis.
Last year during Christmas I was on my third round of Clomid with an assurance from my doctor that I'd be "pregnant in no time." I'd get sad when I thought about it too much, and it definitely put a damper on my holiday season, but I was still sort of blissfully ignorant. I was a little worried that our move to VA might put us back a month or so, but I was hopeful. I thought, this is a new year, I'm going to go into it with determination and a positive attitude, and I'm going to get pregnant. That didn't happen.
Part of what has been so difficult is that now, a year later, I feel like I'm no closer than I was a year ago. Or at least not much closer. I did ovulate, so that's a little progress, but it took over a year just to make that happen. Now I know more about all the other hurdles I have to overcome, I've become disillusioned. On the worst days, I feel like there's no hope. Most days though, I'm pretty okay.
I think the holidays are worst because there's so much weight on the idea of family. Before infertility, I'd see cute little families walking around, dressed to see Santa, picking out a tree, and think, it won't be long before I have a cute little family of my own to build traditions with. Now to see a cute little family all giddy with Christmas spirit, makes me sad... and a little bitter usually too. I don't know if I will ever get to take my child to take pictures on Santa's lap. I don't know if I will get to have traditions like giving PJs to my little ones on Christmas Eve for them to wear on Christmas morning. I think the want for family is intensified over the holidays.
So how do I make it though it? How do you survive the holidays with infertility? I think you try to pause and appreciate all of the blessings you do have. And even though I am hurting, I really do have a lot to be thankful for.
Last year during Christmas I was on my third round of Clomid with an assurance from my doctor that I'd be "pregnant in no time." I'd get sad when I thought about it too much, and it definitely put a damper on my holiday season, but I was still sort of blissfully ignorant. I was a little worried that our move to VA might put us back a month or so, but I was hopeful. I thought, this is a new year, I'm going to go into it with determination and a positive attitude, and I'm going to get pregnant. That didn't happen.
Part of what has been so difficult is that now, a year later, I feel like I'm no closer than I was a year ago. Or at least not much closer. I did ovulate, so that's a little progress, but it took over a year just to make that happen. Now I know more about all the other hurdles I have to overcome, I've become disillusioned. On the worst days, I feel like there's no hope. Most days though, I'm pretty okay.
I think the holidays are worst because there's so much weight on the idea of family. Before infertility, I'd see cute little families walking around, dressed to see Santa, picking out a tree, and think, it won't be long before I have a cute little family of my own to build traditions with. Now to see a cute little family all giddy with Christmas spirit, makes me sad... and a little bitter usually too. I don't know if I will ever get to take my child to take pictures on Santa's lap. I don't know if I will get to have traditions like giving PJs to my little ones on Christmas Eve for them to wear on Christmas morning. I think the want for family is intensified over the holidays.
So how do I make it though it? How do you survive the holidays with infertility? I think you try to pause and appreciate all of the blessings you do have. And even though I am hurting, I really do have a lot to be thankful for.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
The Worst Things to Say to Someone Struggling with Infertility
1. “You’re still so young; you have plenty of time.”
Firstly, brushing someone off is not helpful. Secondly, age will do nothing but hinder my ability to get pregnant, the older I get the more difficult getting pregnant will be.
2. “When are you going to have a baby?”
Prying into someones personal/reproductive business is always obnoxious, but when someone is struggling with infertility, it can be really painful.
3. “Well don't do anything extreme. You don't want to end up like Octomom.”
Extreme, like fertility drugs? Well, I don't ovulate without fertility drugs, so if I don't do anything "extreme" (barring a miracle) I will never conceive a baby. Believe me, I would really like not to have to take these sickness-inducing drugs.
4. “You should go on a vacation.”
Fertility treatments are expensive, so we couldn't afford a cruise to the Bahamas if we wanted to. Plus, we've tried pretty much everything at this point, we aren't really looking for suggestions, just support.
5. “It's all in God's plan.”
Maybe everything does "happen for a reason" and all that, but this sort of implies that God has intended for you to cry yourself to sleep while you wait it out, or for your ovaries to be covered in cysts, or that you aren't fit be parents. In any case, it's just not what we want to hear.
6. “Ugh, I'm so bloated, I can't wait to have this baby out of me!” (or heartburn, or leg cramps, or any other pregnant lady complaint). You can't blame them, especially if they don't know what you're dealing with, but it still hurts to hear. In an infertile woman's eyes, a pregnant woman has everything, to hear them complaining is super annoying.
7.a. “Take one of mine, they're driving me nuts!”
Um, please appreciate that little miracle of yours. I would do anything to be driven nuts by my own child. Seriously, this one happens all the time and nothing makes me more upset. Why do all these unappreciative moms get to have babies and I can't. UGH.
7.b. “Enjoy [childlessness] while you can. Once they're here, there's no going back!”
Couples who are infertile would gladly trade their "care-free life" for sleepless nights or snot-stained clothes. Also, see above, these things are bad to say for pretty much the same reason.
8. “Why don't you just adopt?”
Just. Adopt. JUST. Adopt. It is actually an incredibly difficult and expensive process and not one that should be offered up all nonchalantly. A variant of this is "Have you considered adoption?" To which most infertiles would respond, "Yes, when you are told there is a chance you might never have a biological child, it is absolutely something you consider."
9. "Just relax, it will happen."
Well thanks for your vote of confidence, but relaxing wont increase a sperm count or rid ovaries of cysts. So no, relaxing probably wont help.
10. "Oh, you've been trying for a year and a half? That's nothing; I know a couple who struggled for SEVEN years before they got pregnant."
Oh, well excuse me, I didn't realize my feelings were completely invalidated because someone had it worse off than me. Sorry, that sounded bitter. It's just that "one-up"ing is never helpful.
Actually, this probably all sounds a little bitter/over-sensitive to fertile people. Well, we are a little bitter, if you want to be supportive, you're going to just have to deal with it. But if you read through all of this, it means you care! Yay! That's a start :)
Here's a bonus one I just thought of:
11. "Oh, I struggled getting pregnant too. It took me almost SIX MONTHS!"
Yikes. You have to be kidding me. How might this be helpful? Answer, its not.
Firstly, brushing someone off is not helpful. Secondly, age will do nothing but hinder my ability to get pregnant, the older I get the more difficult getting pregnant will be.
2. “When are you going to have a baby?”
Prying into someones personal/reproductive business is always obnoxious, but when someone is struggling with infertility, it can be really painful.
3. “Well don't do anything extreme. You don't want to end up like Octomom.”
Extreme, like fertility drugs? Well, I don't ovulate without fertility drugs, so if I don't do anything "extreme" (barring a miracle) I will never conceive a baby. Believe me, I would really like not to have to take these sickness-inducing drugs.
4. “You should go on a vacation.”
Fertility treatments are expensive, so we couldn't afford a cruise to the Bahamas if we wanted to. Plus, we've tried pretty much everything at this point, we aren't really looking for suggestions, just support.
5. “It's all in God's plan.”
Maybe everything does "happen for a reason" and all that, but this sort of implies that God has intended for you to cry yourself to sleep while you wait it out, or for your ovaries to be covered in cysts, or that you aren't fit be parents. In any case, it's just not what we want to hear.
6. “Ugh, I'm so bloated, I can't wait to have this baby out of me!” (or heartburn, or leg cramps, or any other pregnant lady complaint). You can't blame them, especially if they don't know what you're dealing with, but it still hurts to hear. In an infertile woman's eyes, a pregnant woman has everything, to hear them complaining is super annoying.
7.a. “Take one of mine, they're driving me nuts!”
Um, please appreciate that little miracle of yours. I would do anything to be driven nuts by my own child. Seriously, this one happens all the time and nothing makes me more upset. Why do all these unappreciative moms get to have babies and I can't. UGH.
7.b. “Enjoy [childlessness] while you can. Once they're here, there's no going back!”
Couples who are infertile would gladly trade their "care-free life" for sleepless nights or snot-stained clothes. Also, see above, these things are bad to say for pretty much the same reason.
8. “Why don't you just adopt?”
Just. Adopt. JUST. Adopt. It is actually an incredibly difficult and expensive process and not one that should be offered up all nonchalantly. A variant of this is "Have you considered adoption?" To which most infertiles would respond, "Yes, when you are told there is a chance you might never have a biological child, it is absolutely something you consider."
9. "Just relax, it will happen."
Well thanks for your vote of confidence, but relaxing wont increase a sperm count or rid ovaries of cysts. So no, relaxing probably wont help.
10. "Oh, you've been trying for a year and a half? That's nothing; I know a couple who struggled for SEVEN years before they got pregnant."
Oh, well excuse me, I didn't realize my feelings were completely invalidated because someone had it worse off than me. Sorry, that sounded bitter. It's just that "one-up"ing is never helpful.
Actually, this probably all sounds a little bitter/over-sensitive to fertile people. Well, we are a little bitter, if you want to be supportive, you're going to just have to deal with it. But if you read through all of this, it means you care! Yay! That's a start :)
Here's a bonus one I just thought of:
11. "Oh, I struggled getting pregnant too. It took me almost SIX MONTHS!"
Yikes. You have to be kidding me. How might this be helpful? Answer, its not.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Dear Whoever You Might Be
I'm here waiting patiently.
There's a song by The Civil Wars that's called "To Whom it May Concern."
It goes like this:
Why are you so far from me?
In my arms is where you ought to be
How long will you make me wait?
I don't know how much more I can take
I missed you but I haven't met you
Oh but I want to
How I do
Slowly counting down the days
Till I finally know your name
The way your hand feels round my waist
The way you laugh, the way your kisses taste
I missed you but I haven't met you
Oh but I want to
How I do
How I do
I've missed you but I haven't met you
Oh how I miss you but I haven't met you
Oh but I want to
Oh how I want to
Dear whoever you might be
I'm still waiting patiently
It came on Pandora during the midst of a crying fit and the words fit so seamlessly into the thoughts I was thinking, the feelings I was feeling. That's never happened to me. I mean, I like music, I really do, but I've never been one of those people who's like "This song changed my life" or "I swear, that songs about me" or who listens to a song on repeat until they're sick of it. I like what I like but I seriously don't even have a favorite song or favorite band, or even a favorite genre. But this song, I love.
I'm a dancer, a dancer who is out of practice and out of touch with her own body, but I heard this song and felt moved to dance. I just listened and danced and cried. It was cathartic and kind of beautiful.
So if someone dealing with infertility happens upon my blog, looking as I have often looked at others' blogs for inspiration (or commiseration), and needs a good cry, do yourself a favor and search for the youtube video.
There's a song by The Civil Wars that's called "To Whom it May Concern."
It goes like this:
Why are you so far from me?
In my arms is where you ought to be
How long will you make me wait?
I don't know how much more I can take
I missed you but I haven't met you
Oh but I want to
How I do
Slowly counting down the days
Till I finally know your name
The way your hand feels round my waist
The way you laugh, the way your kisses taste
I missed you but I haven't met you
Oh but I want to
How I do
How I do
I've missed you but I haven't met you
Oh how I miss you but I haven't met you
Oh but I want to
Oh how I want to
Dear whoever you might be
I'm still waiting patiently
It came on Pandora during the midst of a crying fit and the words fit so seamlessly into the thoughts I was thinking, the feelings I was feeling. That's never happened to me. I mean, I like music, I really do, but I've never been one of those people who's like "This song changed my life" or "I swear, that songs about me" or who listens to a song on repeat until they're sick of it. I like what I like but I seriously don't even have a favorite song or favorite band, or even a favorite genre. But this song, I love.
I'm a dancer, a dancer who is out of practice and out of touch with her own body, but I heard this song and felt moved to dance. I just listened and danced and cried. It was cathartic and kind of beautiful.
So if someone dealing with infertility happens upon my blog, looking as I have often looked at others' blogs for inspiration (or commiseration), and needs a good cry, do yourself a favor and search for the youtube video.
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