"This is the Story You Wanted to Write..." Part 1

This story stretches back two years and then some.  It's a big part of the reason I stopped writing often- because I didn't want to write a "Poor Pity Me" post- but it was always on my mind.  Today, for the first time, I'm willing to write about the struggle we've gone through trying to get pregnant.  Some of this may be TMI but I'm going to write it anyway.  I know I won't finish it in one post- there's too much emotion for me to handle it all at once- but this is the beginning.

I'm writing because I'll need to remember.  When my child is being a royal pain, I'll need to remember.  When I take it for granted that something will just happen or work out, I'll need to remember.  And when I open my mouth to say, "If it makes you feel any better..." that's when I'll REALLY need to remember.

Two+ years...  Truly, this began for me even further back than that.  For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be a mom.  It's the ONLY thing that I've NEVER wavered on or reconsidered at any time.  I was meant to raise children.  The need is so deep inside me, so much a part of me, that the thought of never having children was unthinkable and devastating.

Some of you may remember that when Branden and I got married I was determined to start a family right away.  I was finally married to an amazing man and looking forward to moving on to the next phase.  We'd been together for three years so I wasn't really feeling the need to "enjoy just being a couple for a while."  Been there, done that, loved it but I'm ready for more!  I was off birth control from day one of our marriage and I was convinced that it would just happen.  So I waited... And waited.

January 2011 came along and something weird started to happen to me.  I had a period, and then another one two weeks later, and then another two weeks later!  Every other weekend I was going through cramps and gross discomfort which lasted 3-4 days and then ended.  By the end of February, I'd had enough!  I called my doctor and got in to see him at the beginning of March.  I'd been keeping track with a calendar so I brought that in and showed him every time this had happened. 

His answer: Non-ovulatory bleeding.  I was going through pain every other week because my body just felt like it.  Well, that sucked!  We talked about my cycles, which have always been irregular, and he decided it was time for me to track my basal temperature to see what was going on.  I was to start with the beginning of my next "cycle."  Wouldn't you know it, now that I had a plan, my body decided to wait a full 6 weeks for me to be able to put it into action!

I began taking my temperature every morning in late April/early May.  If everything was going as it should, my temperature would be down in the low-to-mid 97.something degree range in the beginning of my cycle and jump up about a degree to low-to-mid 98.something degrees about two weeks in- that jump is ovulation- then my temperature should stay up until I start my next cycle.

Well, I discovered two things very quickly. (1)My basal temperature was LOW.  As in, often around 96.1-96.4 degrees, at least in the beginning.  This doesn't really mean anything other than that I had to make my own charts because the doctor's charts didn't go low enough for me.  (2)My temperature was ALL over the place.  One morning it would be 96.1 and the next it would be 97.0 only to drop to 96.2 the next day and spike to 97.5 the day after that.  I had to track for three cycles before I went back to my doctor but it was clear at the end of my first one that I wasn't ovulating.  And this was when I started to get depressed.

I am being honest here so I will admit to the painful stuff, even the things of which I'm ashamed.  I began to cry A LOT.  Sometimes silent tears while Branden slept next to me and sometimes great wracking sobs when nobody was around to hear.  The kind of sobs that hurt all the way to the end of my fingers and down in my toes.  The kind of hopeless self-pity that doesn't help anyone but I couldn't escape.  I won't pretend that this only happened in the beginning or that Branden didn't know. 

During some of the last 18 months, he even patiently held me while I sobbed, soaking his shirt with my tears and other liquids.  Every time I found out that one of my real-life friends, Facebook friends, cousins or siblings was expecting a child I would end up bawling, sometimes intermittently for days.  And I didn't want to seem like a terrible person because, of course, everyone deserves to be happy, but I just couldn't always pull any kind of joy out of my heart for that individual who was getting what I wanted so badly.

So I became jealous and angry.  I blamed myself over and over.  The hardest thing I've gone through up to this point in my life was living with the knowledge that I was the reason we were struggling to create a baby.  But I'm getting ahead of myself and crying too hard to write so I'll end this on a hopeful note.

I went back to my doctor in August and he confirmed what I could already see for myself, my body wasn't doing what it should.  He prescribed Clomid to help me ovulate and I went out and picked up my prescription immediately.  For the first time in my life, I couldn't wait to start a new cycle.  I was convinced that it would work.  My doctor told me that it usually only takes a couple of months for most women to get pregnant while taking it and I was positive that I was going to be one of these "most women" about which he spoke.  Lo and behold, I took my first round in September 2011 and it worked!  Well, it worked in that I ovulated.  My temperature started low and then spiked around 18-19 days into my cycle and mostly leveled out until I my cycle ended after 31 days.  For the first time in my life, I had real proof that my body was doing what it should.  Yes, I cried when I started another period but the medication had worked.  There was hope.