When people ask about my infertility story, I never quite know where to begin. Like many others, my journey has been long and incredibly difficult. I wrote this “journal” entry about 3 years ago as a way to cope with my emotions. I’ve been wanting to get into blogging for a long time, but never took that first step of becoming public until now! So much has happened since this time, but I don’t want to bombard you all at once!
I know this is very long… But this is me… And this is my story… Enjoy!
I had been married for 7 months at the time of our first loss. Like many young women, I was diagnosed with PCOS when I was 16 and was told that it would be hard for me to conceive, so for about a year and a half my husband and I did not do anything to prevent pregnancy. A few months after we were married we decided that it was time to start getting serious about a family. I visited my OBGYN who suggested that Clomid may be all we need to get my ovulating. The first cycle failed, so we upped the dose and went on to try again. At this time my husband and I were getting ready to move cross country. About a week before the move I had a dental exam scheduled and I noticed my period was 2 days late, so I figured I should test in case they wanted to do xrays. Sure enough, it was positive! However, as soon as I took the test I also noticed some spotting. I called my doctor immediately and she ordered an HCG quant and told me that it was most likely just implantation bleeding, and there was nothing to worry about. Since I was moving, she told me just to schedule an appointment right away after we move. That afternoon I stopped at the store and bought a pacifier and placed it in a gift bag. I rushed home and got there right as my husband was waking up to go to work. In his half sleepy state he was so confused as to why I was handing him a gift bag, and even more confused when he opened it up. I laughed and just said “you might need that in about 8 months.” He smiled, kissed my belly, and we both cried.
The next morning I was spotting a little more. My OB called and said that my numbers looked perfectly fine and to drink lots of water and rest up. I think deep down I knew then that something wasn’t right. We carried on with the move, occasionally having some spotting and cramping along the way. During the last stretch of the drive my back started to hurt incredibly bad. We found a hotel for the night and I took a nice relaxing bath, which seemed to calm the pain. When we arrived at our new home I contacted a doctor who set up an initial appointment right away. I went to the appointment later that week, and the doctor calculated that I was about 7 weeks along. He also did not seem worried about the spotting and cramping that I was having. I was sent home and an ultrasound was scheduled for 11 weeks.
Three days later I had the worst back pain that I could ever imagine, and I could hardly walk from one end of the house to the other. My husband was at work, so I tried the best I could to get myself upstairs and into bed for the next few hours. When I got up and went to the restroom, I knew then the pregnancy was doomed. I was bleeding heavily. I called my husband but didn’t have the strength to tell him what was going on, so I told him I wanted to bring him dinner at work. As soon as he got in the car I immediately started bawling. The only words I could say were “I lost the baby.” He ran back in to his work and told them, then took me to the ER. The hospital did an ultrasound, but could not find any sac. My HCG was around 3000 so they suggested that I may have already bled it out (even though I had very minimal clots and this was not the case). I was told I was having a miscarriage and was told to follow up with my doctor if I had any problems. If I only knew then what more was about to come.
I had a follow up with my doctor the next afternoon. It was then we discussed my options of passing the baby naturally or opting for a D&C. I chose the natural route, however a week later I decided to use Cytotec as my HCG had not fallen very much. The pain brought on from this medication was excruciating. I spent much of that evening on the bathroom floor curled up in the fetal position while crying. The next morning I felt a little better, and was able to bring tissue in for a sample. Pathology determined that there were no products of conception found, so after another week and minimal drop in HCG I did another round of Cytotec. This time it did nothing. At this point every day was a struggle to do anything productive; however I was lucky to be unemployed at the time. My doctor suggested that it was time we do a D&C, and it was scheduled for a few days later. According to the doctor all went well and I was to be feeling much better within a few days.
Well the doctor was right; I did feel better …for about two days. On that third day, which happened to be Easter Sunday, I found myself to be in terrible pain once again. I called the next morning and they said that it could be normal to have some cramping but if I develop a fever to come back right away. At this point every day was a new nightmare. It was as if the doctor’s office didn’t believe me when I would tell them the pain that I was in. I would lay around the house all day, unable to do even the smallest of chores. At night the pain became so unbearable I would find myself in the bathtub curled up in the fetal position crying out in pain. When I went back to the doctors, they had said that I developed an infection from the D&C, and that with some heavy antibiotics I would be just fine. Another week went by with the same pain, except with the addition of uncontrollable nausea and vomiting from the medications I was on. The doctor finally ordered another HCG quant and three days later I received a voicemail that I still had significant HCG levels in my system and I was showing signs of significant infection. The doctor recommended I make sure to take all of my medications and come back the following week to see where my HCG was. My husband was so upset that they were pushing this off like they were, so he called my doctor and demanded that they do something about it right away. I was admitted to the hospital that night.
My doctor met us there after I was admitted and explained that he wanted to give me a morphine pain pump and several IV antibiotics for the next few days to try and clear up the infection. He made me feel as if there was no real reason for me to be there. Throughout the night the morphine did nothing for my pain. An ultrasound was ordered for the next morning and it was then I learned the real truth. The on-call OBGYN came into my room all scrubbed up, with the OR team waiting outside my door. She explained that I had an ectopic pregnancy and had blood up to my liver, and needed surgery immediately. I lost it. My husband was at home trying to get a little sleep since he was up with me all night, but I had my mom there with me. I was so scared that I would not get to see my husband before they wheeled me off to surgery. He made it just as I was going in, thank God, but it still did not ease any anxiety I had about what was going on. The surgery was only supposed to take about an hour, however it took over four. My body had walled off the pregnancy to try to protect itself, and in turn had developed large amounts of scar tissue that took a couple hours for the doctor to get through. Because this had been going on for so long my intestines had lesions all over and they were stuck together, so a general surgeon also had to come in and make sure I did not have any tears or ruptures. In total I had my tube removed and my appendix. I had felt a lot of pain throughout this ordeal but nothing compared to the first night post op. Thankfully, I had an amazing German nurse who did everything in her power to make sure I was as comfortable as possible. Two days later my swelling had not gone down any, and I was still unable to stand up. The doctors decided they needed to operate again to make sure I was no longer bleeding internally. I was even more scared to go in to this surgery after the pain I felt waking up from the last one. The poor hospital staff had their hands full, I was hysterical. Luckily, I came out of that surgery smiling! All they did was take a look around and remove quite a bit of fluid, but I felt incredible!
I spent the next eight days in the hospital. I had a difficult time trying to mentally understand what had happened to me and what I had suffered with for so long. Each day I physically felt a little better as I attempted to pick up the pieces. I am so thankful for all of the amazing hospital staff I came into contact with. At one point I had become so fed up with not being able to shower and wash my hair, one of the aides came in and washed my hair for me, in a bed pan! It was the first time she had done that, but I have to admit it was pretty funny and I will never forget that and her ability to understand how something as little as washing my hair could make my day. I also had SO many great nurses. The German lady, who I was lucky enough to have has my nurse for a few days in a row, was always so friendly and really reached out to myself as well as my family. Another nurse had reached out to me personally and told me all about her story of trying to conceive and sat with me for several hours as I cried and went through the motions. Most of all I can’t forget that doctor who happened to be on call that night, my saving grace. If not for that woman I could very well not be standing where I am today.
As I write this I am mere weeks away from my little angels due date. It has been such a long and incredibly hard journey, but I have to admit it has helped me to define who I really am. I have good days and bad days and it seemed as if it’d be forever before the good would outnumber the bad. So few people have been in a position similar to mine, and I felt so alone, as if things would never get better. Slowly but surely however, the days did start to get a little easier. As I approach the due date, so many feelings have come into play. I think about my angel every day, and I don’t know if that will ever change. I wish more than anything that he or she would be coming home in just a few more weeks, but God had bigger plans. I just try to keep in mind that everything I have gone through is going to make me that much better of a mom someday, and that much more thankful for the blessings I receive. If you’re still reading this, I thank you. Thank you to my friends, who have put up with me even when I’ve been acting a little crazy and overemotional. Thank you to those family members who stuck by my side through all of this, I know it wasn’t easy on you either. But most of all, a big thank you to my husband. Of all the bad things we have experienced this year, there is no other person that I would want to experience them with. Without him I truly don’t know where I would be today.
3 years have passed since I wrote that first “entry.” While i wish more than anything I could bring news of a happy ending, that just isn’t the case today. IT WILL HAPPEN SOME DAY. I know this. Some how, some way, I WILL BE A MOM! 
Fertilely Challenged 