For as long as I can remember I have wanted to write a memoir. My plans for the first one was going to be based on my experience of being pregnant. Last September, I was ready to make that dream come true. (With the help of my hubby of course!) Although it scared the crap out of us, we were at the point in our lives where we both wanted to be parents. So I got off birth control and it was all systems go!
Having been on birth control for seventeen years, I had done my share of research on getting preggers after coming off of it and knew it was a crapshoot as to how long it would take for a bun to officially be in the oven. So when my period didn't come the first month, I wasn't surprised. Nor the second or third month. Everything I had read said it could take up to three months, so I was still in the clear. But as I went through the fourth month with not so much as a speckle, I started to think that something might be wrong. A friend of my mom had told her about a similar situation with her daughter and how her doctor was able to jumpstart her period with a shot of progesterone, so of course I was ready to hop on that train as soon as possible. I just happened to have my annual visit to my OBGYN so I planned on filling her in on the sitchee and was ready for her to stick me with the magic needle that would bring on Aunt Flo. But the appointment didn't go as planned when my OBGYN expressed concern with my cycle not bouncing back. She said if I was 24 it wouldn't be too much of a concern, but as I am 34, "time is of the essence." Her recommendation was for me to go to a Reproductive Endocrinologist (AKA a fertility clinic) to be tested and make sure there was nothing serious going on. That it could be nothing, but in case it wasn't I would be better served having a workup done at a place that could delve deeper into testing if need be. A fertility clinic. While I admit the thought left me nervous, I still wasn't thinking it was anything major. I was still banking on that magic shot.
I made the appointment for a few days later, as I was anxious to get a jump on things and get the party flowing, so to speak. When I arrived at the fertility clinic, the first thing they had me do was sit and talk with the Dr. I gave him the rundown on what was going on with me and joked that I figured my ovaries just needed a kickstart to wake up from all the years of napping while on birth control. (I had learned in all my research that the period you get when you are on the pill isn't actually your menstrual cycle, it is a "pill period" caused by a withdrawl from the hormones when you take the sugar pills for a week.) But the Dr. didn't laugh. Instead he immediately corrected me and said it is a common misconception that it could take a while to get your menstrual cycle back once you get off the pill and that science shows most people get it back the following month.
He then continued on to explain the process he planned to follow, which was to do an ultrasound on me and then give me a pack of progesterone pills that will force my body to have a period. Then once I'm surfing the crimson tide, I would get bloodwork done to test my hormone levels. Right on. I was down with that.
But the Dr. quickly changed his tune when I had the ultrasound. My ovaries apparently looked dandy, but my endometrial lining was very thin, therefore the progesterone wouldn't work to bring on my cycle so he decided to skip right to getting my bloodwork and then scheduled me for a hysterosalpingogram (HSG test) to see if there is any blockage in my fallopian tubes. Before leaving, the Dr. said if everything checks out, he would most likely end up giving me a round of estrogen first and then the progesterone, so I hung on to that as I left feeling a bit down that things didn't go as planned.
A few days later I went in for the HSG test. Dressed to the nine in my dashing hair cap and hospital gown, I laid on the table all ready for the test. The Dr. asked if it was alright that a med student was in the room. Sure! Why not!? Nothing personal going on in the room or anything! The Dr. then explained he was going to stick a thin tube up my cha cha and inject dye in it to check for blockages in my uterus and and Fallopian tubes. In it went and much to the Dr.'s dismay, the sucker popped right out! This went on for an almost comical moment before the Dr. shared with me (and Mr. Med Student) that my cervix had a very narrow opening, but not without assuring me that sperm would still have no problem making their way in. He informed me that he would have to use a balloon he'd blow up (in sort of a car jack fashion) in order to create a space to fit through. Oookay, go for it. Well he did, and let me tell you it was no picnic. With a sharp pain my eyes flew open and met with Doogie's, who had a look of sheer terror mixed with squeamish uncomfortableness on his face. Next came the hot flush of the dye, but it was all over in a minute and before long I was looking at an image of my Fallopian tunes. Much smaller than I ever imagined (not that I ever really sat there daydreaming about what they looked like), but hey, good to know! And so as it turned out, no blockage, so we could cross that off the list.
The following week I would be going in to go over my bloodwork, so all I could do was wait...
