When your two week wait turns into five plus years….

Over five years ago, well closer to six years now, we were told if we wanted to have a baby we needed to get a move on.  The sooner we had one, the better.  We’d only been married three years and thought we had plenty of time.  You know that idea?  The one where you’re only 27 and think you have the next 10 plus years to have a baby?  I mean, I always wanted kids, but I was okay with waiting.  We were loving our married life-just the two of us and LuLu, the faithful Shih Tzu.  What else could a person need?

Well, my twenties brought lots of health problems.  And, when those problems turned into the female type of problems, the doctor decided to do a laparoscopy.  Come to find out I was born with my female anatomy all catawampus and outta sorts, to say the least.  My wonderful doctor said it’d probably be best to get started on that family I wanted so, off to the neurologist I went.  The one who warned me to ABSOLUTELY NOT get pregnant without seeing him first.  He took away the seizure meds and we were on our way to trying, but not really trying, you know what I’m talkin’ about, to make a baby.  I mean we were trying, but not taking it to a crazy level of seriousness.

Well, who in the world new makin’ a baby could be so hard?  I heard the numbers, seen friends of friends struggling, but the thought that infertility would happen to me?  That never even occurred to me.  I mean, EVERYONE in my family has babies.  I have a large family on both parents’ sides.  I’m talkin’ cousins with babies out the wazoo.  So, I just figured my journey would go somethin’ like–go off the seizure meds, stop the pill, give it a little while and wham bam I’d be holdin’ my sweet little bundle of joy.  Then, life smacks ya in the face and God says, “It’s not your time.”

The two week wait, turns into months, and the months turn to years.  In March 2018, we’ll have been trying for six years.  Last year, we decided it was time to get help.  The whole hurry up and wait thing wasn’t working and apparently neither were my parts!  The wonderful hubs doctor referred us to a fertility specialist.  That journey took us through four rounds of Femara, two failed IUIs, and a VERY hard push towards IVF.  I’m a planner, I mean hello I have two paper calendars, and my Google calendar synced to my phone, iPad, laptop, and desktop-you can’t just push me into something.  So, that last IUI we never went back for, because the whole 3 and done thing and IVF will be your only option, freaked me out a little bit.  So, we, well I, went through 14 weeks of acupuncture-3 days a week of being needled in the stomach.  Results=no baby.  Frustration, loss, depression, anxiety, hope, and faith.  It’s a Ferris Wheel that you can’t get off of.  Infertility is full of highs, lows, mediocrity and lots and lots of tears.  But, in that it’s also full of laughter and love because without those you’d go crazy!

So, where has our journey taken us now?  Well, I’m back to my original doctor-the really great one!  She switched up my meds.  I’m on round two of Clomid and tomorrow’s the big day for the follicle check.  If all goes well then, next week I’ll be starting another two-week wait.  If you’re a counting person, that’s almost 149 weeks I’ve spent waiting on two little pink lines.  Fingers crossed that my lines show up sooner rather than later, ‘cause this whole waitin’ thing is getting’ kinda old!  And, if you’re on this journey with me, I’m sending lots of prayers your way that you see your two little pink lines, too.


P.S.  If you’re a fellow infertility sister, I’d love to hear your story and add you to my prayer list.  Infertility is lonely in world full of babies so, it’s nice knowing you’re not alone.


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