Bet you are wondering why I chose this blog to be called How to be Infertile. Well, that is the formal name. The informal name is How my Body Catastrophically Failed Me. That is a bit more of a mouthful. So let’s get started. Here is some background on me and how I came to be infertile.

My story starts out like any other, girl meets boy, girl falls in love with boy, girl gets married. Easy, right? We get married and two, yes two weeks later, I have to go to the “big girl doc” that is my code name for the gyno. Don’t judge me. While, there he informs me he thinks I have endometriosis (endo for short). Talk about a blow to a girl’s ego! I didn’t even know what that was, but he left with the parting comment of if *ahem* intercourse ever hurts to come back to see him. Read a few days later, hubby and I are *ahem* enjoying being newlyweds when PAIN LIKE NEVER BEFORE CAUSES ME TO CRY OUT. This is not a cry of passion, people, this is a cry of gut-wrenching, epic proportions. I go back to the doc and one ultra sound (u/s) later confirms something I never thought would happen. I have cyst IN my right ovary. It’s big and it means surgery. Oh joy. Fast forward to surgery. There my doc discovers the endo (for sure) and removes a baseball sized dermoid from ovary. For those of you who are unsure how he got it out, he did a laparoscopy. This means that BASEBALL came out out THROUGH an inch slit in my belly button!!! (I won’t go into the recovery, just know it was loooonnnngggggg and painful.) At post-op hubby and I are told if we are going to have kids, it’s time to get on it b/c endo doesn’t play.

Fast forward some more and I make the brave decision to come off birth control. Birth control, to give some back ground, is to help prevent the growth of endo if it is low hormone. So, I am off BCP and hubby and I are officially “trying to get pregnant!” *Gulp! Four months I charted like a good girl, logged all my cervical mucus (CM), and told hubby when it was time to “do it”. Then a miracle happened, I got a positive test after I thought I had a period. Crazy, but hey, my body hates me. We were over the moon with joy! I literally danced around our bedroom while hubby stared at the test and repeated, “I’m gonna be  daddy” over and over.

I call my doc to set up an appointment and get betas drawn. We are about to go on our honeymoon (yes, we took one late). Doc sends us on our way with the congrats and have fun. U/s is scheduled for when we come back. We both count down the days while we are gone. We go in for the u/s on cloud nine even though I had been bleeding off and on. Very light bleeding and panicked phone calls reassured me that all was fine. So, hubby and I are in for u/s and doc and the tech are watching the screen in silence. Silence, not what you want when you are supposed to see your baby for the first time. Then, the words I will never forget as long as I live, “I see no evidence of a uterine pregnancy.” That is from my doc. Those few words broke me. I immediately started crying and told hubby I was sorry. Because somehow, it had to be my fault, right? I was supposed to carry our baby, protect him.I won’t go into the type of depression I slipped into. I will say that there are two things I know for a fact: 1. I didn’t know joy until I found out I was pregnant. 2. I didn’t know grief until we lost our baby.

Two weeks later and I am still bleeding and experiencing some sort of sharp pain on my right side. A call to the doc has me going in for another u/s. This time, they find a sac in my fallopian tube confirming I had a missed ectopic pregnancy. Cue all the tears and emotions all over again. Choices are given, surgery or methotrexate. I choose surgery b/c I have endo, while he is in there, he can check on it. Surgery day arrives, they have me do another pregnancy test. It’s negative. Pre-op and doc comes in, says that since my test was negative, it’s possible I have passed it on my own, I may not need surgery. But I know, I know something is wrong so I tell him to go ahead and do it. Surgery reveals an almost ruptured right tube with bleeding in my abdomen. Nothing like waking up to that and knowing that now you have missing parts. You aren’t “normal” anymore. You have to go back on BCP for three months to recover from this surgery (another LAP in less than a year) and keep the endo under control.

Moving along from that, and here we are. Hubby and I have been trying unsuccessfully since our loss. During this time, we found out I have Poly-cystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) and we were referred to a reproductive endocrinologist (RE). Nothing like that blow to really make a girl feel good. Test after test reveal that our infertility is on my end. Again, with the blows to the ego. We are now onto medicated cycles b/c it has been determined that, while I ovulate, it’s not “good ovulation”. Apparently that is doctor speak for your ovary sucks. Since my first surgery, my left ovary has taken over all ovulation processes. So now I am completely dependent on Lefty (my left tube) to pick up the eggs. Daunting when you think about it.

So now you see, now you see why I can say how to be infertile. This was the story (albeit abridged) of how my body failed me in the course of two years.