Dreams

My dream is to be a mom. I want children, I want to experience pregnancy. With this horrible disease the chances are lower. I felt like I was stabbed in the heart. I began to slowly sink into a depressive state. I felt worthless, felt like a failure, and I sure didn't feel womanly. I don't think my husband at the time knew how to support me. I didn't know how to even support myself. We were quiet about this. I didn't tell many people.  We decided to go through fertility treatments. I was referred to the fertility department.  After more tests I learned I had hyperplasia. Yay!! More horrible news. I had biopsies done and they were the worst thing on the planet. I rather have cysts rupture. I'm not kidding.

Hyperplasia is the uterine lining is thick and can lead to endometriosis. This was a set back. I had to take medication for about 6 months before we could even start. The provider I was referred to basically told me I needed to lose weight. He wasn't really nice about it. I told him I'm very aware and I have been doing everything I could.  This is the provider who did my biopsies. The last one he did he did a "mini d n c" is what he called it. Where I was paralyzed in pain. I couldn't walk. I was so beyond mad. He shouldn't had done that with out asking first. Needless to say he doesn't work at the clinic anymore. I then transferred my cares to another provider. She was optimistic that I would be able to conceive on clomid.

By the way I never mentioned anything about insurance coverage. Did you know none of what I've gone through is covered by insurance companies. It's all optional. Hmmm.  I didn't ask for this. It's funny how they cover something's and not others. Insurance is a whole other topic.

Now back to clomid. What this consisted of was taking a medication of cycle days 5-9. You would then go in and have a vaginal ultrasound, sometimes once and sometimes twice. It would also consist of blood tests. I did this for 6 cycles. Each and every time I was told it wasn't  working. All this did for me was send me spiraling down. After 6 I told my husband I wanted to stop and just adopt since all we were doing is gambling money away. This is where my marriage started to fail. He didn't want to adopt. I'm not going to get into much about that just that we both added to the problem and I knew I would be better off apart. We ended our marriage after a year or so later.

I focused on weight loss and getting into better habits. At its time I gave up hope and thought adoption would be the way to go. I was good with that. I buried myself in work and living my life. I was put on metformin which helped with the insulin issue and norethindrone to help prevent hyperplasia. I buried my feelings of PCOS. Every time someone I knew became pregnant, I was honestly happy for them. But at the same time it was a stab to my heart. I would cry behind closed doors and begged god to let me have my chance.

I met the love of my life eventually and he knew about PCOS. He understood what it involved. He was all for adopting as well as trying to conceive. In 2009, I found out I was pregnant.  I was so ungodly sick over the 4th of July and went in. They said I had a bug and ran a pregnancy test just for fun. I got a call the following business day to be told I was pregnant. I laughed. I thought she was joking. She told me to take prenatals and would refer me to obgyn.  I went in and everything was going well I was about 5 weeks along.  I was so happy. I couldn't believe that my dreams were coming true. I decided not to tell anyone. I even kept it from my boyfriend. I had to find a way to tell him. Of course once he found out he wanted to tell the world. I wasn't ready. I didn't want to tell anyone.  We did end up telling immediate family.

About 3 weeks later, my dreams came smashing down. I miscarried. I'm to this day devastated. I decided to quit and not even try anymore. I was done. I was ok with that.