I have officially called a cease fire on my ovaries. We are negotiating terms, it isn’t an unconditional surrender, but at least we are sitting down to discuss things.
On my way to get my blood drawn this morning, I had a moment. Firstly, I had to read the paperwork the doctor gave me to remind myself what hormone is getting checked. Progesterone level check to see if the Clomid worked, to see if my extremely stubborn ovaries finally released a hostage, um, I mean an egg. Secondly, the pain I was experiencing earlier in the week is finally mostly gone, but my waistline is two inches larger than it was a week ago. Thirdly, my emotions are all over the place. I snapped at my boss last night for no real reason, and then i cried because i snapped. And lastly, I just feel…horrible.
As I’m driving, all I can think about is this can’t be healthy. This can’t be good for my body. I realize Clomid has been around for decades, and at least a million women (maybe way more) have taken Clomid since it was first released. Even my mother took Clomid about thirty-eight years ago to conceive my brother. But I’m not a million women, or my mother, I’m me. This isn’t right for me. Not right now anyway.
So God and I had a conversation. I told Him I needed some guidance. I want a child, and I want to do that in a way that is right for me and my family.
My mind wandered as I drove. I thought about my husband who has a relaxed approach to our fertility issues. He doesn’t feel the same sense of urgency that I do. His laissez faire attitude tends to make my blood boil about five days in to my ten day stretch of Provera (the drug my body needs to start a period) as I’m resisting the urge to take ANOTHER nap and he’s as chipper and energetic as always. Then I thought about my super supportive best friend and her unwavering faith with her prayer-filled approach. She always helps me find the positives in the overwhelmingly negative situation.
Thinking of these two wonderful people in my life that are ready and willing to support my efforts and dreams anyway they can made me think of the promise I made myself about seven months ago when I was first diagnosed with polycystic ovary syndrome.
I promised to get my body as healthy as I possibly can, and I promised not to do any fertility treatment that could make me unhealthy. It was really important to me that I take the healthiest, most natural route to conception, pregnancy, and delivery. I think my body is telling me that this isn’t it.
For me, for my body, for my sanity, I decided that I won’t be taking anything. I’m not going to say never again, but for a few more cycles I’m going to just focus on being healthy.
After coming to this decision while driving, and after pulling over to cry a bit, I felt proud of myself. I made a decision that is true to the path I laid out for myself and my family. I felt peace, finally.
When I arrived at the lab, of course there is a pregnant woman in the waiting area. My heart hurt a little and tears threatened to make an appearance. I was quickly losing some of my peace.
The phlebotomist called me back pretty quickly after checking my paperwork. After the usual questions, insurance card, and identification exchange, she told me her story.
She went about her work while she casually told me about her infertility. She tried everything medically possible, including IVF, for seven years in an attempt to become a mother. Her husband had a low sperm count, and she had problems ovulating. As soon as she and her husband let go of the infertility fight, she ended up pregnant. Five years after her healthy son was born, she had another baby. Another joyful surprise for her and her husband. And three years after that, she had another beautiful baby, at age thirty-four.
She told me that it’s a good thing that she got married at eighteen since it took so long to have babies. She also said that she had really wanted her children closer in age, but we don’t always get to pick. I could see in her smile that she is perfectly happy to have her kids no matter how far apart they are in age.
She gave me my peace back. I made the right choice for me, for my family, for now. And thanks God for that guidance. I needed it.
Phlebotomist, if you happen to read this, thanks for sharing your story and your joy. I needed it, too.