I never thought I wanted children. To be honest, I thought I had fulfilled my roles as a mother raising myself and supporting those around me. Then one day something clicked. I realized the main reason I was child resistant was driven by the fear of screwing up my child or not giving them the happiness, stability, support and security I lacked in my childhood.
This is a prime example of living in your past. Once I made that revelation I was excited, elated, to think of the joy and new life that children would bring into my life. In July 2015 we removed the goalie and began the adventure of trying to conceive. Fast forward to April 2016, with the advice from a friend, I found myself in my OB/GYN’s office talking about how it’s been 9 months and we haven’t been able to get pregnant. The truth is, I didn’t even know why I was there.
My mom and sister had no problems conceiving and I figured that it would be the same for me. I only went to the appointment to confirm what I already knew, that my fertility was fine and that I just wasn’t trying hard enough (ie no OPK tests). I later went in for my day 3 testing and left the doctor’s office to head straight to a networking event without a care in the world. I thought everything would come out A OKAY, I mean I had a fertile gene pool, what did I have to worry about?
The following day while enjoying a beautiful Thursday afternoon with a friend at happy hour I received a call back from my doctor’s office. I excused myself for what I thought would be a quick phone call telling me that everything came back fine. Immediately upon picking up the phone I knew that something was wrong, just a women’s intuition I guess.
My doctor gave me the news over a five minute phone call spitting out many new acronyms that I’d never even heard of. Until that point my use of acronyms was really limited to FOMO, YOLO, IDK, you know the basic ones that every teenager uses. During that call I picked up a new acronym, FSH (follicle-stimulating hormone), not to be confused with FSA which was a more familiar acronym as my husband and I were in the market for a home. From my day 3 test my FSH measured at 11.4, for a healthy woman trying to conceive that number is under 10. What it really means is that my ovaries were starting to shut down, I am pre-menopausal. (WTF? I'm 33 was all I kept thinking). Though my doctor was optimistic, we ended the call with a referral to a fertility specialist. I went home, drank too many cocktails and sobbed telling my husband the news.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
This is part one of my fertility journey. I write this because behind all of the happiness on social media pics, there are people like myself that are struggling with fertility. We need to come together and realize that we’re not alone, we’re not broken, and that the more we talk about it, the more people can know how to support us and we can stop hiding infertility and hurt behind closed doors.