It’s been almost a year since I first heard the dreaded word. A nurse who thought she was out of earshot told a doctor, “Your patient is a little upset about her infertility, but she hasn’t really been trying very long.” That’s how I learned my diagnosis, by overhearing a conversation I should not have heard.
It was like someone had reached in and ripped out my uterus and rendered me broken. That’s how I felt, just broken; like the Barbie after her head popped off, something that just couldn’t be of much use in its current condition. I’ll spare you the story of how much I cried.
I held it together in the office and asked what my options were. I was told that before IVF, IUI was successful, but first we needed to have some tests. It was an SA for my husband, Frank; and an HSG for me. We were both pronounced pretty normal.
We went full steam ahead with IUI. It wasn’t something we were excited about, but it was something we were willing to deal with to get a baby. We were told we had a “good chance”. The unfortunate part was all the drugs they pumped me full of during the treatment. I got 50mg of clomid on days 5-9 and had two follicles, but they were small. I also got two hundred mood swings, and was pretty psyched that my head did not do an exorcist style spin. After turning into a screaming banshee, the HCG shot made me feel as if I were getting the flu, I was sure I was pregnant. HA! AF came and went. My doc told me that I had some unfortunate side effects and should try again.
I got 100mg of clomid on days 5-9, then the HCG, which made me even sicker than the first round. My cycle started to get weird similar to the way it was when I was in my teens. I asked the doc about it, could the abnormalities in my cycle have something to do with our failure to conceive. I got a “maybe but we really can’t be sure, every woman is different.” I’m surprised that I didn’t ask him which cereal box he pulled his degree out of! But, I was desperate and the treatment he was giving me was all that I knew existed.
Round 3 wasn’t much better. I was more ill than in rounds one and two. As the day for the HCG shot approached, I just knew I couldn’t do that to my body again. I never made it to the HCG shot. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t put my body through such agony again. I called the nurse and asked what my options were. I was crushed when I was told that IVF would be the next logical step. That seemed so illogical. IVF would mean pumping me full of even more of the drugs that seemed to be slowly killing me. There was no way that I would consent to that. My heart told me that no good could come from feeling that way.
My friend, Jordan, mentioned that she was a NaProTecnology patient. She had endometrosis and was scheduled for surgery. She explained the differences between NaPro and the way my doctor had been treating me. As a result of her treatment she felt better and was healthier, while I had never felt more ill in my life during my treatment. What did I have to lose?
I started charting my biomarkers using the Creighton model fertility monitoring system. My charting consultant agreed that I needed to see a NaPro doc asap as my chart showed some serious abnormalities. I know I’ve written similar posts where I elaborate on how awesome Dr. C was during our first phone conversation–I’ll try to keep it brief. I immediately started taking vitamin D3, magnesium, and a B complex vitamin. I was feeling better before my first visit. Click here to read Part II