The Moment We Visited a Reproductive Endocrinologist
It took some time to accept we were walking through infertility.
A couple days ago, I was talking with this lady on the Peanut app.
The Peanut app is an app for women who are trying to conceive or are pregnant. I joined to connect with any other women going through infertility in my area and to invite them to my Moms in the Making Group.
I was chatting her when she asked me how long we had been trying to conceive and I said, “four years,” and then asked her. She replied with “Three months, but my family is really fertile.” And in that moment, my mind rewound to 4 years ago, when I too thought, “My family is very fertile, so it would be easy to get pregnant!”
For two years, I held on to that belief and wrestled with my faith. Stumbling through thoughts of “If God wanted me to have a baby, He would create one.” And balancing my thoughts of God vs. science.
After about 20 months of trying to conceive, I ultimately accepted my family’s fertility didn’t resemble my own and scheduled an appointment with a Reproductive Endocrinologist. Looking back now, I would have advised myself to call sooner, because what I was about to learn was one of the greatest shocks of my life.
The photo we shared on Facebook telling our community we were walking through infertility.
It was January 22, 2019. Our eyes meet an empty waiting room with seats along the outer edge. Friends of mine had already experienced this doctor’s office so I knew a bit of what was coming. I knew we would meet our doctor and proceed to have a vaginal ultrasound. What a didn’t know is what he would find.
During the first two years of trying, I saw my regular family doctor twice. She examined me and said everything looked fine and to keep trying. She also told me it was normal to have intense pain and to be home sick throwing up just because you have your period.
Friends that is not true. If you have pain and your doctor isn’t acknowledging it, please get a second opinion!
As I was lying on the doctors table, I remember Dr. Granger’s first words, “Oh, that’s interesting.” “WHAT?!” my thoughts were screaming as silence filled the room. “Hm…” was all that my doctor managed. In the minutes that followed, he slowly began explaining to us that I had an uterine septum. In common language, I had a big piece of tissue splitting my uterus in two. The tissue extended all the way through my cervical canal and into my vagina. The tissue had gotten pushed to one side so for the two years we had been trying, we only had the opportunity to get pregnant when I ovulated on the right side.
After the news, the tears streamed down my face as we learned surgery would be a must. Our doctor also speculated that I had endometriosis due to my symptoms. Walking out of the office, I felt I had been punched in the gut. I was grateful to have answers, as some women don’t receive them, but they weren’t the answers I wanted. I wanted to know something little was wrong and that it would be an easy, CHEAP, fix. Neither was true.
Surgery was scheduled in March 2019 over Spring Break. Which was feat in itself, as scheduling surgery on a reproductive organ can only be done on certain days. Surgery and recovery went well with no complications. Endometriosis was removed, but in May, we found out though an HSG that parts of my septum remained.
Happy to be back in surgery. This is another story in itself. It had rained that day and some of the surgical rooms had leaks. My surgery went from 8:00 a.m. start time to 2:00 p.m. I had to fast all that time and was not happy!
My doctor suggested trying timed intercourse with trigger shot for a while before having another surgery. June to October we tried several rounds of taking letrozole, having a follicle scan, giving myself a trigger shot (shot to make me ovulate) and then having timed intercourse.
Shots, shots, shots!Never was there a sign of pregnancy and by December 2019, Grant and I had returned to our doctor to push for a second surgery. Dr. Granger agreed and in February 2020, I was back on the operating table. Again, I was blessed with a successful surgery. The only strenuous recovery was our bank account. Real life: infertility is expensive.
Soon after in April 2020, we found out we were pregnant. However 2 weeks later we lost the baby. (You can read the story here.) We took some months to rest, but then in August 2020 we started the IUI (Intrauterine Insemination) process. The first cycle they put me on Clomid which had the adverse effect on me. Instead of producing more follicles, it produced none. The second cycle we tried a natural IUI but missed ovulation, and the third cycle we finally jumped through all the hoops but still ended up empty handed. (That story is here.)
That September, during our IUI rounds, I scheduled an appointment with a new doctor three hours away. Our unconventional consultation was in November via zoom because COVID. Grant and I learned that our best option would be IVF (in vitro fertilization) due to many factors (years of trying, multiple surgeries, loss of tube, age). At this point IUI would only be 8-10% effective, so it isn’t worth the money.
The next two months we took time to process, and in mid January 2021, I communicated with the nurses we would be pursing IVF, but not for many months, as it would take time to save up money. Again, infertility is expensive.
So that’s where we are now. Saving and praying. Praying God preforms a miracle and we won’t need to walk down that road, but saving our funds in case IVF is where God leads. As I reflect on these past four years, my growth astounds me. Not just because when I started this process I was 27 and now I sit writing at 31, but because now I simply sit in a quiet confidence knowing God will come through. I cry less (even if my husband doesn’t agree), and I no longer plan my life around being pregnant. Contentment runs through my veins more days than in the past, and I’m ok with taking it one day at a time. I don’t feel as rushed. I have days of peace.