Our Infertility Story: IUI Round Five

“Sometimes you gotta take a break from all the noise to appreciate the beauty of silence.”
~Robert Tew


So, I know that I touched on this briefly in my last post, without going into very much detail. I cannot promise that I will provide many details now either, as this is a particularly difficult post to write.

Our Intrauterine Insemination chapter of this journey has come to an end, and I wish that were happy news. But it is not.

When I went in for my Ultrasound four days before the procedure, I had two nice, large follicles. We decided to wait one more day to see if one other would get bigger, so I didn’t take my shot of Ovidrel until in the following evening.

I went on for my Fifth IUI two weeks ago today. When I walked into the office that morning, it was with a complete absence of hope. I still tried my best to put on a good face. I wore my new Star Wars Jacket, and a Star Wars shirt. Even though I didn’t have any hope, I still thought Star Wars was appropriate attire for the day: A New Hope? Maybe a little would turn up after all.

It didn’t really.

Aside from an incredibly long wait both in the waiting room, and in the exam room, the IUI went well. My doctor did the procedure again and I didn’t have any cramping. We talked for a few minutes, and then I laid down for ten minutes before rejoining my husband and heading home.

The first week of the TWW was difficult, because I was working every day and just obsessing over whether or not it had worked. We knew going into this that our doctor would be willing to do just one more if this failed. However, we also knew that decision was largely up to us. Before going in, I was already contemplating skipping any further IUI procedures. I was tired, both physically and emotionally. I didn’t want to keep taking the hormones, and I didn’t want to keep crying every single day. Still, I knew we wouldn’t really make that decision until the end of this cycle.

We were away on vacation for the second week of the TWW, and that made things a little easier. We enjoyed spending time with our family and friends, and attending an amazing wedding.


For the last day and a half of the trip, we went up to Pittsburgh, and did a bit of sightseeing in the city.


No trip to Pittsburgh is complete with a trip to Primanti Bros, for their famous stuffed sandwiches (shown below with Kielbasa).


The trip was lovely, and as always, was done way too soon. The good news was that we had a couple days off of work when we got home.

The bad news was that we walked inside to a broken AC…in May…in Florida.

Wednesday morning, when I woke in a very very hot house, I was cramping. My period started shortly after.

That was it. I cried for a while, before finally calling my Doctor’s assistant to leave my message. When she called me back a few hours later, she asked us if we even wanted to do another cycle. I really didn’t know, but not doing another cycle felt a whole lot like giving up.

My husband wanted to know if we could see the doctor.

Amazingly, he must have had a cancellation, he could see us the very next day. That is pretty rare.

We went in today at 2:30.

He talked to us about all of our options (which isn’t much), and explained the chance we have for conception with each procedure. And they were basically all the same…except for IVF…which has greatly increased odds of success. We also spoke briefly about the cost involved, and our financing options. It is going to cost a bit less than we had thought…but it is still a LOT of money. Money that we really don’t have.

For now, he recommended that we take a break. He thinks this whole process has been really hard on me (maybe because I cry every time he sees me?) and so he doesn’t want to do another IUI. With our low odds of success, I don’t think he believes it’s worth it. He wants to put me on something to help the pain and discomfort from the endometriosis (and to prevent the endo from getting worse), but my husband and I want to wait a couple months and try naturally for a bit. If I take medicine, I can’t get pregnant.

This is our plan for now. We want to try on our own just until we get back from our Europe trip in the summer, and then we will start IVF if we can figure out how to pay for it. Our doctor is going to have someone call us to discuss the costs involved.

I feel overwhelmed, tired, and an emotional wreck. I feel like not trying to do another round of IUI is tantamount to giving up…but I trust my doctor and his opinion. And I am so tired that I feel like we do need a break.

So this is where we are for now: Hanging in a bit of limbo, and trying to adjust to our new reality. If I’m being honest, I never really thought this would go so far. I never really thought we would need IVF. I think I just always assumed it would all work out.

So for now, I’m going to go pour myself a nice ice cold glass of wine in my sweltering hot home, and try to do something fun to keep my mind off of all this.

As always, thanks for reading.


Our Infertility Story: IUI Round Four

“It is important to remember that we all have magic inside us.”
~J.K. Rowling 


I didn’t sleep well the night before my latest IUI. I tossed and turned quite a bit while trying to fall asleep, and woke up multiple time during the night. I didn’t feel anxious, but it’s probably fair to say that I was nervous. It’s so difficult to stay one hundred percent calm about a process that your entire heart is so invested in.

When I finally woke up at 7:00am, my husband was already in the shower…and it was dark. The time change really hit me hard this year, and the darkness at that time of the morning translated to gloominess. I shook off the slight feelings of nervousness and sadness, and started to get dressed. I had picked my outfit the night before, and it was somewhat inspired by my last blog post, about our ultrasound.

After everything we have gone through, I do still believe in magic, and this time around, we are looking for a little of our own magic…so I chose to dress the part.


For our fourth IUI, I paired a black and gold maxi skirt with an “I Put a Spell on You,” tank. Once again, I wore my fertility necklace, but I also accessorized with a pair of Harry Potter earrings, and the new moonstone claddagh ring my husband gave me for my birthday.

Maybe it’s weird to care about how I dress for these procedures, but fashion makes me feel good, and I want to feel my best going into each IUI.

I was also super nauseous that morning (thank you ovidrel), so I asked my husband to drive to the appointment. My stomach was still a bit wonky, and he had a headache, so our drive in was not as cheerful as last month. Once there, we were both a bit subdued. I flipped through magazines, and he played on his phone while waiting to be called.

After he went back, I continued to relax on the couch, reading various articles about pop culture and celebrities. It was only two days ago, and I already cannot remember what I was reading, so my concentration skills were not really up to par.

Once Mark was finished, we went to grab a quick breakfast across the street, while we waited the hour for my turn to go back. It seemed to pass more quickly than usual, but I think that was simply because for the first time in a while, they did not seem to be backed up at the office.

Neither of the doctors were at the clinic that day, so my appointment was with the nurse practitioner. The medical assistant came to fetch me from the waiting room as usual, but after I got undressed and was lying down, the A.N.R.P. came into the room unescorted. I have gotten so used to the medical assistant being in the room during my procedure, I hadn’t really thought about the fact that she was only there because the doctors are both men. Since the nurse was a women, she could do the IUI alone.

She introduced herself briefly, since we had yet to meet in the year I have been coming here, before adjusting my position and back rest for comfort (something the doctors never do) and warmed the speculum (again, something no one else does). She told me that my husband’s sperm was excellent (per usual), and then we began.

I was not thrilled to discover that the cramps I had not missed from my last IUI were back with a vengeance. At one point, I even cried out in pain. I asked the nurse if my cervix was once again stenotic, but she said it wasn’t and insisted that cramps are common and, in her opinion, a good sign. She turned the lights off, and asked me to wait for ten minutes until a nurse came to get me. It was the first time I was told to wait for someone to come get me before leaving, and I therefore waited nearly 20 minutes before I was told I could leave. As usual, I was told to have sex the next day, and that my orgasm was important. I mentioned that it had been nice to meet the A.N.R.P. and the nurse who came to get me told me that she was great, and usually a good luck charm. Boy, would I love it if that were true.

The cramping didn’t stop when I left the office, and so Mark drove home as well. We stopped at Best Buy to grab “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,” because I had planned to relax on the couch and watch movies. Sadly, we had the release date wrong, and cannot actually buy the movie until Tuesday. 😦 I got a few things anyway (“Twister,” and Season five of “The Big Bang Theory”), and we headed home.

Thankfully, by the time we got home I was feeling a bit better, though fairly tired from the pain. Both hungry almost immediately, we went to get lunch downtown at around noon. I was sort of craving Thai food, so we went to the top rated Thai restaurant in town for some lunch specials. Since we were both really hungry, love leftovers, and the pricing was awesome, we ordered three meals to share between the two of us.

The lunch specials included soup and a spring roll, both of which were served before we even ordered our meals. The presentation was pretty great.

For the main course, we shared Shrimp Pad Thai, Ginger Beef, and Chicken Panang Curry.

Everything was wonderful. We finished the Ginger Meat, saving about a third of the last two meals for Mark’s lunch the next day, but the Pad Thai was so amazing, that we ordered another one to go, for my lunch the next day.

Once we came home, full and happy, I crashed on the couch where I remained for the rest of the night. I had a Bridget Jones marathon, watching the newest incarnation, “Bridget Jones’s Baby” last.

I have to say, that the movie was actually really really good, especially considering how bad the second film was. I’m always a sucker for any version of Mr. Darcy that Colin Firth will play, and he really and truly gave me all the feels in this movie.

All in all, it ended up being a really restful day. I can’t say that I am filled with as much of the optimism and excitement as I was on our last round, but I am still filled with hope. If hope is alive, I know I can’t be doing too badly.

Now we wait…


Our Infertility Story: IUI Round Three

“Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I’m through with playing by the rules
Of someone else’s game
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
It’s time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes and leap!”

~Wicked: Stephen Schwartz


I’m not sure what changed, or when the change occurred exactly, but I am not the same person that started this blog four months ago.

Without a doubt, this infertility struggle has irrevocably altered me; altered us. No matter what happens next, I’m certain that many of the effects of that will linger for the rest of our lives. For example, should we be lucky enough to conceive, I’m sure I’ll always be a little more worried; a little more cautious than other women are during their first pregnancies. It’s more than that, though. I’m a stronger person than I was three years ago when we started trying to conceive; I am stronger person that I was four months ago when I started this blog.

When I began writing Ariadne’s String I was a broken, hollow, shell of my former self. I cried all the time, and had difficulty finding joy in even the best of days. I was drowning, and this blog became the only life line I could grab out for. During my first two IUI attempts, I don’t think I ever really believed I would get pregnant. I was anxious, paranoid, afraid to do anything that might mess up our chances.

Learning that I would have to undergo surgery terrified me, and I spent the month leading up to the procedure living in abject fear.

But I had the surgery, and it was successful. There were no complications, my endometriosis was not as advanced as it could have been, and my doctor was even able to successfully remove much of it. I came out of surgery a stronger person. Returning to work quickly post op, and feeling myself heal more every day made me stronger as well.

In the two months that followed my surgery, when I was recovering and healing and therefore could not undergo fertility treatments, my depression faded away. I’ve been happy, more relaxed, and I’ve felt more like my true self than I have in a long time. I think taking a break from treatment was good for my mental health. It was certainly helpful for my relationship with my husband. When I am a happier person, he is a happier person.

Just a few days ago, due a jolt of fear combined with hormones that always make me a little cranky, I wasn’t feeling very optimistic about starting treatment again. But the very next day I realized how much I’ve changed. I had surgery, and if the doctor thinks that will help, who am I to say it won’t? This realization made all the difference in the world going into our third IUI procedure this morning.

I cleaned the house last night, tediously creating a relaxation retreat in our bedroom; deep cleaning the kitchen and bathroom, organizing my office, and picking up the living room. I even organized the bathroom cabinets (something I have needed to do since we bought the house last March).

I started cleaning so that I could feel relaxed when we came home from the doctor’s office today, but staying busy also kept my mind off of the procedure and prevented me from feeling anxious.

I slept well last night, and when I woke at 6:30 I got dressed in my favorite maxi skirt, my “dauntless” bracelet, a fertility necklace (a gift from a former co-worker), and my new “Nevertheless, She Persisted” shirt. Because I will continue to persist in this as with many other things. 🙂

We had a bit of a wet ride into the clinic, but still made it with a few minutes to spare for Mark’s 8:00 appointment. He was called back after a few minutes, and I read Facebook and looked at the news from my phone while he was gone. After he came up we went to grab bagels and coffee while his sample was prepared.

I felt calm, relaxed, and completely at ease. We joked and laughed as we talked about work, our dog, and our plans for saving money if we get pregnant. Once back at the doctor’s we waited patiently as we looked at more news, and again laughed and made jokes about news reports, political memes, and our own lives.

I almost felt a little guilty. The office was pretty busy today, and a fertility clinic is not generally the happiest place. In the past when I have been there I’m usually quiet, reserved, anxious, and…probably a little intense. For our last IUI they were pretty late calling me in because they were super busy, and I totally lost my cool. This time I was called in nearly 40 minutes late and it didn’t bother me in the slightest. It was then that I realized my calm demeanor wasn’t an act. I felt so calm because I was actually calm. How strange.

When the doctor’s medical assistant came to get me, I hopped up eagerly to follow her. She led me into a room and told me that the doctor was still with a patient, but would be with me shortly. I got undressed and waited, while watching House Hunters Renovation on HGTV. More waiting, and I still wasn’t freaking out. Who is this person?

The doctor came in about ten minutes later. I was pleased to see him, and we talked for a minute and made a few jokes. Have I mentioned how much Mark and I both love our doctor? I told him that I was feeling much calmer and more relaxed than I ever have before. He could tell, and had already picked up on this fact. It was the first time he didn’t have to tell me not to stress out his eggs.

He looked at my chart and realized that we have been seeing him for a year. “One year,” he said. “We need to get you a baby.”

“Well, we have been trying for three years,” I said. “But we have been seeing you for a year.”

“Yes, but I’m all that matters,” he joked.

“Why does everything seem to revolve around the Mark’s in my life?” I asked (my doctor and my husband are both named Mark).

“That was funny!” The medical assistant laughed.

I laid back and we did the procedure. I was bracing for the pain, despite still feeling calm. I have a stenotic cervix, so this process always results in pretty bad cramping. The first IUI we did, the cramping was severe because it had been months since my cervix had been opened for our HSG. I was expecting this to be at least nearly that bad, since our last IUI had been way back in October.

I waited for the cramping and the pain to hit me, but it never did.

Don’t get me wrong, the procedure is no picnic and the catheter doesn’t feel awesome, but I never started cramping. After about a minute, I told the doctor and the assistant that I wasn’t feeling any discomfort for the first time.

“Your cervix wasn’t stenotic at all,” the doctor informed me. “You can jump Mark’s bones tomorrow,” he added with a smile as he walked out of the room.

“Lay here for ten minutes,” the assistant said as she followed the doctor out. “Call us with good news.”

I didn’t know what it meant that my cervix no longer seemed to be stenotic. Was it something that had been corrected via the surgery? Is that something that just goes away? I pondered this and many other things as I lay there in the dark. I was calm. I did some visualization exercises in my mind, and I wondered if this news about my cervix was a good sign.

Since I wasn’t in any pain, we headed to the grocery store after we left, and I picked up stuff to make my favorite British comfort foods on this dreary, English feeling day. We also grabbed lunch at our favorite diner.

I’m in a bit of pain now, but it isn’t from the procedure; it’s from my ovaries. The both feel a bit like they are being stabbed, though the pain on the right side is much worse. I don’t know if this means that an egg has been released, or if it is still in there and just big? Either way, I’m gonna relax a bit today, watch some movies, and make a huge pot of onion soup. If I feel up to it in a bit, I may even do some work.

I feel good. I’m hopeful, I’m calm, I’m excited. I know that this still may not work. I know that our odds of success are still not amazing, but I know that I prefer this happier, more positive self over the gloomy and moody version that had taken up so much of my time.

So I will wait. I will have a fun, relaxing, joyous two week wait, and if we don’t get pregnant this time…we will persist. Our story isn’t over yet. I think it may just be starting.


Our Infertility Story: My Laparoscopy

“And though she be but little, she is fierce.”
~William Shakespeare 

Our Infertility Story: The Beginning

Our Infertility Story: The Specialist 

Our Infertility Story: My HSG

Our Infertility Story: The Eye of the Storm

Our Infertility Story: Checking His Swimmers

Our Infertility Story: IUI Round One

Our Infertility Story: IUI Round Two

Our Infertility Story: Surgery or IVF

I had surgery yesterday.

The weeks leading up to the day both seemed to fly by, and also to go by in a slow crawl. I was terrified.

Though I had an endoscopy earlier this year, I have not been under general anesthesia since high school, and the idea of doing so again scared me.

I think it’s because I don’t like loosing control, or being without control.

I am pleased to say that I slept pretty well the night before surgery. This is no doubt due to the fact that I opened the last four shifts at work before surgery. Waking up at 5:30 am everyday helped better prepare me to wake up that early now. I actually was awake before my alarm.

I woke to numerous well wishes for surgery on my facebook page, and  soon after waking I received a text from my brother. I was feeling well loved. 💜

Thursday after work, my mom got me a pair of Christmas pajamas that buttoned up, and some indoor/outdoor slippers. This was because I was instructed to wear clothes that would be easy to take on and off. I slept in my pajamas the night before, so all I had to do was slide on my slipper boots, and pull on a sweatshirt.

The hospital was located in an older part of town that I am not familiar with. We got a little lost on the twisty brick roads, but adored the cute little neighborhood. I had been told it would be okay to get there a little late for my 6 am in time, because the doors don’t open until 6 am, so I wasn’t concerned about being late.

Once we got to the surgery center, I checked in an waited to be called for paperwork. I received a few more text messages from friends as we waited. Once I was called, I was given paperwork to fill and told I didn’t owe any money. We had already met our out of pocket for the year, so this wasn’t a surprise. It’s actually why we scheduled this at the end of the year.

I was called back at around 7:50 am, and ran into my doctor almost immediately. He saw me being weighed and said, “There’s my favorite Sam!”

Mark and I have both always really liked our fertility doctor. Not only is he more than capable, but he is always so positive and full of hope. I think that helps us both. Every time I see the doctor, I walk away in a less pessimistic place. I think that’s important.

We sat and talked for a few minutes in the little room. He went over my procedure with me again, and told me that in addition to any exploratory work, and clean up and removal of any endometriosis he finds, that he was also planning to push dye through my tubes again. I’ve already had an HSG, but this was just to make sure that my Fallopian tubes were still clear.

I started crying while I was with the doctor. By that point, I was feeling completely overwhelmed, anxious, and terrified. The doctor gave me a hug, and told me that he was going to take good care of me, and not let anything happen to me.

After he left, I went through a lot of questions and medical history with first the nurse, and then the anesthesiologist. I cried again with both of them as well.

After that, I was instructed to get changed. Once I was dressed, I had an IV inserted into my hand. The nurse tried to put it through the top of my wrist, but it wouldn’t thread and caused me a lot of pain. She had to pull it out.

The second time, in my hand, the IV went in immediately.

I was given a few different types of medicine for nausea (previous experiences with anesthesia always left me very sick when I woke up) and then my family was allowed to come in to see me.

I started to feel a lot calmer by the time my family came in to see me. I can’t be certain, but I’m pretty sure one of the drugs they shot into my IV was a seditive.

My mom and dad gave me a kiss, but Mark was allowed to stay with me until I was wheeled into the OR.

I don’t remember much once we got to the operating room. I remember huge round lights up above me on the ceiling, and they asked me a few questions. I was already feeling a bit hazy, from the seditive I assume they gave me.

Once the anesthesia was administered my hand starting burning as it entered my veins through the IV.

The next thing I remembered was waking up in recovery.

I asked if it was over, and the male attendant helping me said yes. I had to pee pretty badly, and I said so. He brought me a bed pan, and it took a minute probably because I had a catheter in during surgery, but I was able to go.

Then, I was aware of the horrible pain I was in. I was having some of the worst cramping that I have ever experienced in my life. He hurried and got me some pain medicine. He stayed with me and talked to me, no doubt trying to calm me down as we waited for the meds to kick in. I was also told to sip on water, which I did without complaint.

Eventually, he helped lift me off of my stretcher and into a big comfortable wheel chair type contraption. I went into recovery and sat with my husband. I’m told my parents were there, too…but I don’t really remember.

I asked about my results and was told that the doctor already spoke to my husband. My mom told me later that the doctor told them that he spoke with me before talking to them or Mark…but again, I don’t remember.

Eventually, the nurse saw the doctor in the hall outside my recovery room and asked if he would come talk to me. He joked that he didn’t want to, because I wouldn’t remember anyway, but he came in and sat down.

He told me that he found endometriosis and was able to remove a lot of it. He put me in between stage 1 and stage 2 endometriosis. I won’t really know more until my post op appointment on Thursday, but from what I can tell, this is very good news.

He seems to think that we will be able to go forward with IUI, which is great news, since we cannot afford IVF.

I was told I couldn’t leave until I went to the bathroom, but I told them I already went in a bed pan, and so I was sent away.

We came home and I begin the slow process of recovering. I’m in a lot more pain than I had hoped to be in, but I am surrounded with love. That’s enough for now.

I’ll be back soon to let you know how I’m recovering.


Playing Catch Up

“Happiness is often the result of being too busy to be miserable.”
~Paul Frank Baer


With the chaos that has been November, I only just realized that I have not added to our infertility story in quite some time. Has it really been 21 days? Where has the month gone?

I might as well go ahead and reveal a few more personal details about myself, since I am very nearly ready to let those closest to me know about this blog. Why is the thought of going public so scary?

I am currently participating in NaNoWriMo.  It is a writing challenge that occurs every November, but the basic gist is that you write a 50,000 word novel in a month. I am currently at 27,482 words (so yes, I am behind). But given that I have written 27,482 words since November 1, I should probably give myself a break for falling a bit behind on this blog.

I started writing the novel to take my mind off of our infertility for a while, though it is interesting to see that the novel has become about mental health in many ways. That wasn’t intentional, but it is an interesting development.

Next piece of personal information: I work for a grocery store. This is one of (if not the) busiest weeks of the year for us, and I am also in the middle of being transferred. Life right now is a little frustrating, but I can’t imagine how I would be feeling if I were not staying so busy.

I am going to try to post the next part of our infertility story tomorrow. I can’t believe it, but it is actually almost caught up to where I am today. Where we are now in our journey, is a place that I find to be very scary.

Though we may be riddled with uncertainty now, I will try to stay positive as we end the month. We are, after all, in the season of thanks.

I hope to find more that I am thankful for in the days that follow. I am immensely grateful for this blog, and to those of you who have reached out to us on our journey. Your presence in our life has been a welcome gift.

So to start my week of thanks, let me say that I am thanful for you.


Our Infertility Story: The Beginning

“I am half agony, half hope.”
~Jane Austen 

My husband and I were married in late 2012, after having been together for several years. We had a relatively short engagement, because we already felt that our life together had started.

We enjoyed a couple of years as husband and wife, and honestly felt happier and more in love than ever. Less than a year into our marriage, I developed really strong case of baby fever, but knew that we were not ready to be parents yet.

We adopted a puppy instead, and loved that little man to pieces as we learned more about responsibly and taking care of a defenseless creature that needed us.

The following year, the dog was alive and well, and I was 30 and knew that neither of us were getting any younger. We knew it was time to start trying.

In all honesty, we did not officially start trying until 2014, but we also had not been careful in years. We didn’t need to be, because we would have been okay with having a baby at any point after we got married.

Still, I tried not to be bothered by the fact that we never got pregnant without trying. So much goes into conceiving, and before we started, I couldn’t have even told you when my period was expected.

I was clueless.

I started by downloading an app for my cell phone, and tracking my cycle.

I still remember how excited I was the first time my husband and I “tried” during my fertile days. That entire two week wait, I was ecstatic. I knew that it was going to work.

Back then I was a runner, who had just completed my first marathon. Right around this time, I had a friend who asked me to run a different marathon with him in about ten months.

I politely declined the invitation because I knew I would be too pregnant to run such a long race.

This was not the first big event I would turn down because I assumed I would be “with child.”

In the first few months, I really didn’t feel discouraged that it wasn’t happening right away. I knew that these things take time, and that a large number of women won’t get pregnant for at least six months.

I was still hopeful, and the process remained fun.

It wasn’t until the one year mark began to loom that I really started to feel uneasy. Even with that lingering so near, I remained optimistic.

While we were trying, we had made a pretty huge move and with that came stress and multiple other factors that could throw my cycle out of whack.

Despite my continued attempts at optimism, I slowly felt a gradual shift occurring within myself. I began to feel less excited for my friends who announced their pregnancies. Looking at baby pictures on Facebook became more difficult and I started hiding such posts from my feed.

After we passed one year of TTC, these feelings got a lot darker…quickly.

My brand new nephew was a reason for immense joy, but he also reminded me of how painfully childless I still was.

The week he was visiting my family, I was four days late. In our entire first year of trying, I had never been more than one day late. Despite a negative test, I was convinced that this was the cycle it had finally worked.

I was supposed to join my brother, the new baby, and our family for dinner on the night my period finally showed up.

To say that I was devastated would be a massive understatement. I called and told my family that I would not be able to join them because the nearly two hour drive was just going to be too much for me. I told them I felt too exhausted from work.

It wasn’t a lie. I was exhausted. I couldn’t even fathom finding the energy to watch television, play my computer, or read a book.

My husband was working late, and so I cried for hours, all alone in my grief.

Every part of me hurt, and the only good thing that I can say came from that night, was that it made me realize it was time to see an expert.

My OB had originally told me we just were not having enough sex, and I took that as a decent estimation of the situation. Now, I knew we needed more concrete information.

At my next visit, my OB ordered blood work. When everything came back normal, he referred me directly to a fertility expert. Since my insurance covered fertility, I didn’t have to jump through any hoops to see one. I was happy to be going straight to a doctor who would know exactly what I needed. It took me six weeks to get an appointment, but I was more than ready to wait that time if it meant we would finally have a baby.

I had no idea the heartbreak I was still in for.