Back to the beginning.

To start off my new blog- I will publish, in separate posts, with the date of the old post on top- the few posts I made on a different site's blog. I don't like that one so much, so i'm switching.

This first post will go back to the beginning- to where all of my problems started. I never kept track of all of my doctor's appointments so it is coming all from memory. Some of it is hazy- but I will do the best I can- it's insanely long. The rest of the posts come to present day and my RE journey thus far.

In this blog I will also have day to day mumbo jumbo- just something to write to keep this going since everyday there isn't a new fertility epiphany.





So- On a fertility note...

It all started about 9 years ago.
I was 14 years old, coming home from a 3 day/2 night field trip for school. I got my period for the very first time. I was excited, because my best friend had gotten hers just weeks earlier, and I felt inadequate since I was behind. When my mom found out, (because I was being bitchy and over-emotional), she was just as thrilled, and was hugging me and and saying "You're a woman now!" Needless to say- I was embarrassed. It continued for a few months, normal as could be, and then stopped. I went to a family doctor who also worked in office as a gynecologist for the first time when I was 15 years old. Younger then most, but a pretty normal age to go to that sort of doctor. I explained about my irregularity in cycles- and was basically dismissed as just being young and my body was still regulating. Naturally- I let it go. Who was I to question a doctor's judgement? Fast forward about 2 years- 17 years old. I am being intimate with my boyfriend (who is now my husband) when all of a sudden it feels like my abdomen exploded. It felt like he ripped through something. I screamed and cried in pain. He felt absolutely awful. He said that even HE felt something tear. (and no- it was not my first time) After about an hour, the pain completely subsided. Or so I thought. For the next couple of weeks I was feeling a nagging pain in my abdomen. It was progressively getting worse and worse. I went back to the original GP/GYN who tested me for all STDs and was convinced I had Pelvic Inflammatory Disease. She instructed me to lay back, and started poking my belly. It was very tender on the right side. She was then SURE that my appendix would rupture any minute. She sent me to a surgeon that same night. I went with my mom and sat in the waiting room. I saw the doctor from a distance, and thought he looked familiar. It wasn't until he came out, looked at us and nodded his head, that I realized who he was. An old boyfriend's father. I thought it was pretty funny that just a year earlier I was dating this man's son (who I dumped because he was kind of stalker-ish) and having dinner with his family a few times. At least I thought it was funny until I found out how he checks if your appendix is bad. I get called into the examination room, and have small talk with this man. I explain the situation, and he tells me to lie down. He pokes and prods my belly for a few minutes, and decides he can't determine if it's the appendix or not. He instructs me to roll onto my side- because he needs to do a rectal exam. I nearly died. He told me it was to see if I would be in pain at certain points in the exam. I WAS in pain- but not physically. I was absolutely humiliated. That doctor determined it was not, in fact, my appendix, and made a call to his friend the ob/gyn to get me an appointment a.s.a.p. The next day I went to see that doctor and explained all the happenings as of then. She did a sonogram and explained that it might be endometriosis. This is when the lining of the uterus does not shed outside of the body (a period), but instead goes backwards and into the abdominal cavity. The only way to determine this is with laproscopic surgery- where they insert a camera into your stomach, through your belly button. We scheduled a date for this, and I left. After the surgery was finished, it was explained to me that I had stage 2 endometriosis on a few of my organs. Not great- but not awful. It was removed and for the next 6 months, I was to go through a medically induced menopause, to shrink whatever was left. Once a month I was to go to the doctor to get a shot intramuscularly (in the butt cheek). Those were the most miserable 6 months of my life. Imagine going through menopause at the age of 17? Before my mom even went through it? I had hot flashes and mood swings like crazy. My lovely boyfriend was a trooper, and put up with it. His mother, who thought I was just an angel (haha) later told me she saw the devil in my eyes on more than one occasion. It was awful, but the pain was relieved for awhile. Once the Lupron (menopause inducer) wore off, the pain slowly started to come on again. It hurt to have sex, which pretty much sucked. And I don't mean just uncomfortable. I mean- OW. Therefore- it just stopped completely. Luckily, my boyfriend was once again a trooper. There was a constant burning sensation, with the occasional stabbing pain on either side of my pelvic area. I went back to the ob/gyn practice as before, but saw a different doctor. He suggested ANOTHER lap to rule out more endo. When that surgery was over, he told me that I there was some inactive endo in there, but what may be causing the dicomfort, was that it seemed I had PCOS. He showed me the pictures he had taken during the surgery, and my ovaries were a glaring white color- instead of the pink they are supposed to be. This is a typical sign of PCOS. He did some bloodwork to be sure, which turned out to agree with him. He told me that it should not interfere with my ability to conceive, as I didn't have the usual side-effects; Lots of facial hair, acne, weight gain. I believed him, and continued on with my life, which a prescription for pain relievers. When I was about 19 years old, I woke up at 6 in the morning with a blinding pain. I was hysterical and could barely move. I stumbled into my parents room and woke my father- telling him I needed to go to the hospital. He took me there, where I sat in extreme discomfort for about 2 hours before anyone would see me. I was begging the receptionist for help- that I desperately needed pain meds- but she waved me off saying they were busy. Mind you- the ER was completely empty. I was laying across chairs, sitting up, laying on the floor. I just couldn't get comfortable, and I was vomiting from the pain. Once I got in, I was given morphine, and my ob/gyn was called. He wasn't available, but ANOTHER doctor from the practice was performing surgery at the hospital, and came to see me. She determined I had a ruptured cyst, and gave me a prescription for pain meds, and an appointment for a follow-up with her. A week later I went to her, and everything checked out. The following year- 20 years old, my boyfriend (now DH) and I decided to start TTC. We didn't yet live together, but wanted to start the process, because we were afriad that it would be difficult. I went to see the latest ob/gyn, and told her my boyfriend and I wanted to start TTC. She was obviously condascending towards me, and asking how long we had been together and telling me I was so young and blah, blah, blah. I ignored her and told her it was what we wanted. I told her I had been reading up on Metformin, and wanted to try it. She told me- in her experience, it didn't work. I was skeptical- but I listened. She attempted to put me on BCP to "regulate" my cycles, but I refused. She sent me to an endocrinologist, and told me to use OPK's. I went to the endo, and she did a series of tests. She ALSO told me I was young, and that having a baby wasn't like dressing a doll (This is what made me resent doctor's). She sent me for an abdominal cat-scan and bloodwork, and all she determined was that I had IBS, and an enarged ovary. She was an idiot. I decided I would do the OPKs for awhile, and hope for the best. I started in January of 2007. I got my first positive OPK on February 11th, at 7 in the evening. The following night I BD with my boyfriend at 9pm, because the instructions said to wait 24-48 hours after the positive OPK. I went to Florida with my parents and sister to visit my Grandfather- where I felt a little queasy and got car sick alot- which I rarely get. I came home and had sore boobs for a couple of days. At 10 DPO (days past ovulation) I took a home pregnancy test. I saw a very faint line, and showed it to my sister. She said it looked negative to her. I cried. The next day, after looking up pregnancy symptoms and deciding I had them all, I took a digital. It said "Pregnant" within 2 minutes. I was ecstatic.I called my boyfriend-Yes, I told him on the phone- and he just kind of laughed nervously. Neither of us ever expected it to happen that easily with the OPKs. We were lucky. I told my mom and sister right away. My mom wasn't very supportive. She knew it was what I wanted all along, and rooted for me when I told her I told her of my plans, and came to Dr. appts. with me. I didn't understand why she seemed so angry about it. She kept telling me my dad would be so disappointed. I was terrified of telling my dad because of this. It got to the point where I was constantly crying due to hormones and fear of my father hating me (which was just stupid because he's a huge mush). I made my boyfriend miserable, and finally one day, he went into work (where he worked for my dad), and went into my dad's office and asked him for his permission to marry me, but before he answers- that I was pregnant, and afraid to tell him. He called me and told me he let my dad know, and I was so grateful, and scared at the same time. My dad wasn't absolutely thrilled, but he knew I wanted it, and his eyes teared up, and he said he was excited to have a grandchild. Fast forward 6 weeks. I was approximately 8 weeks pregnant. I was in school one night, and my back was just killing me. I got home a couple of hours later, and went to the bathroom, only to find blood in my underwear. It wasn't THAT much, but I was worried. I called my doctor on the emergency line and she said to come in for a sono first thing in the morning. So we did, and I saw my baby's heart beat for the first time. It was the best moment of my entire life. I was so proud of the little person growing inside of me, and so relieved he or she was okay. I went to dinner that night with my parents, sister and grandmother to celebrate the fact everything was okay. My dad admitted that he told a friend of his that day. I was so happy about this, because he seemed so excited. The next day, I went to work and left within a half hour because the blood was getting heavier. I went home and relaxed for awhile. That night the pain was so intense it was unbearable. My mom called the doctor several times, who told me it could go either way. i knew it was bad, though. I went in the next morning for confirmation, and on the screen, all I saw was an empty hole. No more flickering heartbeat. I was devastated. I had a D & C that same day, which was just torture itself. I was in the hospital on Morphine for 10 hours with a crying baby near me- awaiting my turn for the surgery. It took me a long time to heal from losing my first child. But I moved on eventually. The doctor did a panel of bloodwork and found I had MTHFR- a blood clotting disorder- the likely cause (I think) of the miscarriage. After going back to my ob/gyn about 12 times in the next year, trying to get her to take the next step, and her telling me over and over again to "try another month," I decided to take it upon myself to see a reproductive endocrinologist. The first one we saw was a complete ***. He was rude and condascending (about my age- I was 22, and the fact that we were not yet married) He humiliated me in front of staff and other waiting patients by yelling across the room about some stretch marks I had formed on my legs. (They literally appeared overnight, and have since faded most of the way). He was not interested in figuring out what caused the m/c or what else was wrong, but wanted to jump right into IUI-no testing before hand. I decided I hated him. I waited 2 months to see the next doctor. It was after our cruise vacation and closer to our wedding. I liked him immediately. He did bloodwork, sono, read through EVERYTHING in my chart and prescribed me Metformin for my PCOS, Folgard for the MTHFR, and found I had Hypothyroidism-which is very dangerous to a pregnancy- and treated it with 75mg of Synthroid. After 2 months on the meds, I got my first (somewhat) natural period since about September '07. It was now June '08. Still, nothing happened. My cycle went over 100 days again and I didn't ovulate again. It was time to take it up a notch.