It was four years ago this month that we decided to go off the Pill. We had been married for three years and our lives were moving in an upward direction and we realized that we were just about ready for kids. We weren't exactly trying, but we weren't going to stop anything either. I was so excited about the idea. So off the Pill I went.
I then proceeded to not have a period for 8 months. We forced a period. Waited another 5 months. Forced a period. This time we waited 3 months before we went to the meds. Finally, a year and a half after we got off the pill, I began to have somewhat normal periods. By this time, I knew something was wrong. I tried to talk to Bobby about it. "Honey, I don't know if I can have kids." He wouldn't even think of hearing it. "Just don't worry." He would tell me. I also tried to prepare our families. Everyone thought it was all in my head.
We decided to up our trying status. We actively tried. I even thought it may have worked a couple of times, but nope. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
Two years ago, Bobby called one day to let me know that one of our good friends was going to have a baby. I finally broke down and said, "When will it be my turn. Isn't it my turn?" "You're right," he said, "call your doctor." And I started Clomid. Here's the breakdown: When on clomid, Dr. G would check my hormone levels to check if I ovulated (I think he checked progesterone, I've blocked it out.) This hormone must be at least at 10 - 15 in order to ovulate....month three of 150 mg of Clomid, I was at 0.08. I kid you not.
Month 5 I finally ovulated. But nothing. Month 6. Nothing. Dr. G then referred us to our IF (infertility) specialist, Dr. N. He's one of the best. It was a 2 month wait before we could get in, so we took a wonderful repreive from baby making. And as luck would have it, we concieved. The day I found out was one of the best in my life. I walked on air. Then just a few days later, I miscarried. I wasn't sure Iwould make it through. I never realized how much losing a pregnancy could hurt. I didn't want to breath anymore, let alone move on. But somehow I did. Somehow we picked up the pieces and just a week after the miscarriage, we went to Dr. N's office. He immediatly recommended surgery.
December 7 of last year, I had a laperoscopy and hysteroscopy to diagnose my infertility issues. My tubes were clear, but Dr. N removed stage 3 endometriosis and diagnosed me with PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome.) We were set to begin treatments that included injectables and IUI within weeks. Now, let me tell you, I had to really pump myself up for this. I've never been the type to go for the invasive treatments. I'm very pro adoption and we decided years ago that we would adopt no matter what. So I go in, just three weeks after my surgery, pumped and ready to go. And then I get told that I have to go back on the birth control pill. In just those few days, I had grown a large cyst on one of my ovaries and could not begin treatments. Because of it's size we discussed surgery if the cyst did not go down within two months. I went home and cried. I was devasted, tired, and was melting away. I sat down and told Bobby,"It's time for you to play the man card. Make the decision here. I just can't do it anymore." To which he said, "You're done. I can't watch you go through this anymore. I want my wife back." So I took out my adoption applications, took a deep sigh of relief, and began the process to adopt a baby from Korea.
Just weeks after sending our application in, I got pulled in another direction. You see, a good friend of mine knew of three kids who would be up for adoption within the week. Her parents had fostered the kids for two years. So she showed me their picture and told me about them. I spoke with their foster mom. And then I let it go. A week later, Friday afternoon, I got a text message "They're free. They're up for adoption."
So we took Saturday and went over to my friends home to discuss the matter. We found out about them, looked at more pictures. By Sunday morning, we knew what we had to do. And the rest, as they say, is history. Not 10 weeks after my surgery, I met our children. I'll never forget that day. It was February 18, a day that will forever be marked in my head. On May 6, they came home and I finally became a Mom. That was my one great desire. And they fulfilled it like no other could. And I began to heal.
Then came August.
So we decided to stay on the pill just to keep me as healthy as possible. Well, I woke up one morning in August and realized I had forgotten to get my prescription. I should have started taking it three days ago. Well, no biggie, I figured I'd force a period after my anual in November and get back on it. He he he. That same day, I felt something happen. Both my ovaries, at exactly the same time, tightened. Hard. They stayed this way fro about 10 seconds and then just relaxed. 14 days after my period began, I ovulated. I kid you not. Now, I havn't done this very often, so I knew exactly what happened. We were sitting watching TV and I almost yelled, "I just ovulated!" Bobby took one look at me and said, "Hey, why not. Let's go for it."
I'm now 9 weeks 5 days along. We saw the heartbeat on Thursday. OMG.
I havn't said anything simply because we hadn't told the kids yet. I didn't want them to feel the hurt if something went wrong. Well, we told them tonight. They are just thrilled. I've made it clear that this baby belongs to them too. That they are now and will always be a part of our family. Destiny has already made plans to go shopping for baby clothes with me. She hugged and kissed me and said, "Mommy, I'm so glad you're gonna have a baby!"
We also told our social worker. I was so afraid that this would hinder our adoption, but she couldn't be happier.
Well, this is a long post and I bet you're tired. There is much more to say, but I'll post more later. Any prayers and thoughts would be appreciated. We're still in the danger zone and I'm very scared.