Changing Doctors, and a Fertility Update

Last November, I went to the Doctor for the first time for infertility. I didn't like the Doctor. I didn't like the nurses or receptionists. And the tests that the Doctor suggested were the standard ones, but he did not present them to me in a way that made me feel comfortable. In fact, I was very uncomfortable with the entire experience. I just got a non-good vibe from the whole experience. Not to be sexist, but I really wanted a female OB-GYN.

So I found one, and she has been wonderful to work with, so far. She ordered a bunch of tests, and I am in the middle of going through them. In transferring to a new Dr, I actually transferred to a completely new health company system. And I have been so impressed with them so far.

I am writing this out, so I can remember this shizzle. I had an ultrasound, since my new Dr wanted to see if the cysts on my ovaries had increased in size. Let me tell you what, this ultrasound made my first ultrasound look like a joke. The first one took like fifteen minutes, and they found what my first Dr termed "non-specific" cysts. This time? They found a whole lot more.

First of all, my uterus is retro-flexed. A lot, by what the ultrasound tech told me. And there are at least two cysts on each ovary, (HOORAY!!), and my left ovary has been infiltrated by one of the cysts. Also, there are some growths between the muscular and lining portion of my uterus, and a wee little cyst on my cervix.

Basically, it sounds fucked. ('Scuse my language, but if I haven't mentioned already, I believe that infertility deserves all the four-letter words I can through it's way.)

I also had a blood test on day nineteen of my cycle, to test Thyroid function, prolactin levels, and something else, that would indicate if I had ovulated.

The Doctor called me to tell me the results of my ultrasound and the results of my ultrasound. Bad news- both tests were abnormal. My prolactin level was elevated, which could indicate a growth on my pituitary gland. So, I have to get an MRI on my brain. Yay.

The cysts in my uterus aren't normal, either, so I have to have an MRI on my nethers, to make sure that they aren't cancerous. Yay.

My Doctor told me that it looks like endometriosis, and I think that is probably what it is. But they need to rule out cancer.

So, basically, I am hoping that it isn't cancer, and that they can get a definite answer on what it really is. I really, really, really hope it isn't cancer. I do not want brain cancer. Or gonad cancer, for that matter. My MRIs are next Wednesday, and I really am praying that it isn't the worst.

Not being able to have kids is one thing, but I do not want to leave my husband alone.

Also?

I've decided I DO NOT LIKE the nurse that answers the phone at my doctor's office. She doesn't say please. She will say things like, "Spell your last name." And it rubs me the wrong way. Why can't you tack on  a nice 'please'? How busy are you, anyway?

And the clincher was when I had to talk to her to make an appointment to talk to the doctor about fertility issues. He spoke with me, and then transferred me to her.

She picks up the phone, "Hi, you need to make an appointment to talk to Dr. L about your pregnancy?"
It took me aback, so I was terse when I said, "No. Fertility issues."

Gosh, wouldn't it be nice if I had to come in to talk to him about a positive pregnancy test? Wouldn't that just be AWESOME? I have peed on so many freaking sticks, I totally commiserate with the woman in this ad:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ldExdoXWKs&feature=relmfu

A Great Blog on Infertility

http://mattyerika.blogspot.com/2011/03/how-long.html

The above blog post sums up where I am right now in life.... especially the part about the career. The job that I have right now.... well, I have been there for about six years. I thought I would be there for one, maybe two years. It was just something to do until we had kids. And for the past three years, I have wanted to leave that job, but have kept it, because it offers "great maternity leave."

L. to the freaking O. L.

So what am I missing? What does God want me to do with this life He has given me? I really don't know. Sometimes, it does not feel like he has a plan for me. I have been praying that God will give us a child, or take away the desire. I have been praying that for a long time, now. And still, the answer isn't there.

I Don't Know How to Do This.

My friend just had a baby. This was the friend who used to commiserate with me about "infertility." Turns out, she wasn't infertile. Not even a little bit. I might be. We don't know yet. What did that old Magic Eight Ball used to say? "Signs Point to Yes."

Anyways. I don't know how to commiserate with her. She tells me about no sleep, or little sleep, or bad diaper changes, and I try to put a sympathetic look on my face. I don't know how convincing my expressions are. Something makes me think they might look less like compassion, and more like wide-eyed, tight-lipped nodding.

This hurts. Sometimes I can ignore it for awhile...push it deep enough to where I think I might not care about having babies anymore. But I do. I am trying to distract myself as best as I can. I'm finishing the first draft of my first novel. I'm tiling back-splashes, repainting our bedroom, and framing art. I'm starting a business so I can quit my job.

I had my first visit with the dildo-cam last week. They took pictures of my lady bits, to see if I am capable of making a baby. They took pictures to find out what's wrong with me. I was supposed to hear back from my doctor the next day. It has been over a week, and they just called and left a message yesterday. I am scared to get the results. If they are bad, well, that sucks. If they are good, that means we get to go onto some other, new and exciting tests.

I turn thirty this month. I have wanted a baby for over four years.

Who's Got Two Thumbs and Cysts on Her Ovaries?

THIS GAL!

Just talked to my doctor. He says the cysts are "non-specific" and I shouldn't be worried about them. They are common in "women my age."

That's so awesome.

I have an appointment November 15th to talk about fertility further with him.

Still Here....

Two weeks ago, my pregnant sister-in-law asked me if I had any recommendations for double-strollers. I looked a little mystified, so she said, "When I was pregnant with Joe (not my nephew's real name) you were all educated about strollers." I gave her a suggestion of a store to visit, and changed the subject. But what I really wanted to tell her was that the reason I was all educated about strollers the last time she got pregnant was because I had wanted kids for about two years before she got pregnant, and I was just positive that year was going to be the year for me. So positive, in fact, that I had researched all the best baby items.

Also, I wanted to tell her to take the time to research her own fucking double-stroller. Bitch.

The Unknown

The worst part of this is the not knowing. If God told me, "You will be a mother within two years," it wouldn't be so difficult. But it is the thought that this may never happen that is the most painful. That I might be getting hopeful and excited for nothing. It is painful, and difficult to have peace about.