Poking and Probing and Pinot

I never knew trying to have a baby would be so much like a science experiment. My doc observing and making inferences, hypothesizing about my possible defective ovaries, poking and probing me in all of her experimental rounds, analyzing the blood tests and ultrasounds and then delivering the results. Repeat. (Side note… who knew I’d actually retain that much information about the scientific method? Congrats to all my middle and high school science teachers!) Each time my doc delivers her disappointing and inconclusive results we go back to the drawing board and I get off the phone call with mixed emotions. I’m glad the thing they were testing for wasn’t wrong/bad/high/low/red/blue/drunk/whatever, but I’m still upset because we don’t have any answers. Then we’re onto the next round of tests. It’s such a draining process and I’m still in the early stages. Shout out to all the women out there who have endured years of this! I don’t know how you’ve managed to keep any ounce of sanity and I applaud and cheers to you. CLINKY! Because I’m seriously on the verge of losing it.


Let’s back track a couple of weeks. When I last left you I was binging on all things Little Debbie (that woman is a Saint), sitting with my heating pad and of course crying. Since then I’ve had a few more rounds of testing done and here’s how all of that has gone. More blood work to re-test my FSH levels and a few other things. To be honest I don’t even know what else they were testing. I stopped listening to the nurse and just told her I would get the blood work and they could call me with the results. At this point I don’t really care what they are doing I just want to know the end result.

So I went back to the lab to spend some quality time with my “blood work guy.” We got to catch up on all things Grey’s Anatomy a week ago because he just kept filling those damn vials. My guy knows the drill and how much I HATE blood work. He knows that I don’t need him telling me, “You’re going to feel a tiny pinch.” So every time it’s the same. I go in, sit in the chair, turn my head in the other direction and he goes to work. This round was no different in the beginning until it was taking longer than normal. I asked if there was a problem and he replied with, “Well yes, I don’t know how Shonda Rhimes thought Grey’s could go on without McDreamy. But no, the blood work is fine. They just asked for more this time for a few other tests. Now, what do you think about Jackson and April?” He knows me so well already. Distraction is really the only way to keep me from crying. After the vials were full I went on my way and waited for the call with the results.

Three days later I got the call that, “All you’re blood work looked great, but your FSH levels had no change. The Doc would like you to come in for a vaginal ultrasound and then we’ll schedule the HSG test after that. See you next week!” That b**** was so perky! I know that they are supposed to be happy and positive, but can’t she just give it to me straight? “Hey Sam, you’re FSH levels still suck, but all the other crap we tested looks fine. We still don’t have any answers for you. We’ll see you in a week for some probing that will most likely turn up fine also and then we’ll put you through some more uncomfortable vaginal exams. So go home and have a bottle of wine. You’ve earned it, Gal!” Now THAT is the kind of phone call I need, but I don’t think that’s protocol. So we ended the call by setting up my first ultrasound for Friday.

Fast forward another week to Friday the 16th. I went in for the ultrasound. I had mixed emotions from the beginning. I was excited to be on to the next phase of testing, but I always thought the first ultrasound I would have would be to see my baby for the first time. So I had a little bit of a pity party in the parking garage, pulled myself together, and walked in ready drop my pants and see my insides on that blurry little screen for the first time. I tried to get the ultrasound tech to crack and give me some details. I even tried to break the ice with an inappropriate comment about probing (she didn’t laugh). I asked what she was seeing and if it looked normal. She didn’t budge. She said she couldn’t give me that information but that the doctor would have the images today and would call me in a day or so. So after the long weekend of waiting I got the dreaded phone call today. “Hi Sam, we have your results and everything looked fine on your ultrasound. So we’ll need to schedule the HSG test five days after you have your next period. Call us back on the day you start and we’ll get that scheduled. Have a nice day.” I’m sorry, did you just say I have to wait until my next period? Great! So not only did I hang up the phone mad about the fact that I would have to wait at least another three weeks before I could even have the next test done, I was also mad that once again they found NOTHING! I know I should be happy about the positive ultrasound test, but at the same time it’s just another door closed and still no answers. It’s great that we are ruling things out, but I mean can’t a girl catch a break? I’m just waiting for the day when they call and say, “This is what’s wrong with you. This is how we fix it. This is when you’ll have a baby.” I know it doesn’t really work that way, but a girl can dream.

So here we are again. On to the next experiment and waiting not so patiently with my Pinot in hand. I feel like I’ve been such a Debbie downer lately and I apologize. I’m trying to stay positive and I know with each test we are one step closer. And I know that no matter how long it takes, or how many uncomfortable probing sessions I have to sit through, or how many vials of blood I have to let them fill, the end result will be the same. One day I will hold a beautiful little baby in my arms. One day we WILL welcome that baby into our family. Whether it’s through natural conception, IVF, sorcery (sorry I watched the Harry Potter marathon all weekend) or adoption, our family will grow by two feet eventually. That screaming, crying, pooping little bundle of joy will be so loved and they will know that every long and painful step of this process was all worth it.



Zebra Cakes and Tampons and Wine, OH MY!

Well I’m currently in the fetal position, mixing up my personal cocktail of extra strength Tylenol and wine and I just ate a half a box of zebra cakes and two cosmic brownies for good measure (I wish I was exaggerating). All of this can only mean one thing… Aunt Flow is back in town. In case you didn’t pay attention in health class, starting your period is a bad thing when you are trying to get pregnant. You’re welcome for the quick lesson in reproduction. I’m apologizing ahead of time for my current bad attitude during this post. That’s a lie. I’m actually not apologizing at all and I shouldn’t have to. As if the period hormones weren’t enough to make me a real moody b****, let’s just throw in the disappointment of finding out that once again I’m not pregnant to really make me an absolute delight.

So here we are again, an all too familiar scene. I’m drinking and complaining and eating and hoping my husband doesn’t leave me in the process. Just kidding! I know he’s not going anywhere, but I do feel pretty bad for him for these 5 days out of every month when he has to find reasons to stay out of the house to put up with me.

We did get a sliver of positive information on Friday. That positivity is all down the crapper after today, but I thought I’d go ahead and share. The results of my blood work last week came back on Friday. Actually they came back on Thursday. My doctor’s office called Thursday at 4:29 pm. I missed the call and they left a message. “Samantha, this is Dr. G’s office and we are calling to give you the results of your recent blood test. We would like to talk about a few things so please call us back as soon as possible. Our phone lines shut down for the day at 4:30.” Awesome! Thanks for giving me so much time to get back to you today. It’s not like I’ve been a hot mess waiting for the results. I’m clearly completely calm. After I listen to the message I frantically call back and of course am met with the answering machine. I had missed the deadline for the day. So now I would have to spend Thursday evening drinking, googling and overreacting. Repeat.

I called back first thing at 8 am on Friday morning and no one answered so I left a message and waited not so patiently for them to call me back. A few sober hours later (apparently it’s frowned upon to drink at work before 10 am. Rude!) the doctor’s office finally pops up on my caller id. Before the nurse could even start talking I immediately started in my typical word vomit fashion and asked questions. Once she shut me up calmed me down, she said we had some good news. “The blood work showed that you DID ovulate last cycle.” YAY ovaries!!! I guess those ovary pep talks we’ve been having are doing some good. I stopped listening for a moment and just enjoyed the good news. It was short lived. Then I was brought back to reality when I asked the nurse, “So what does this mean?” She let me know that since my FSH levels are high, but the blood test showed that I am ovulating this could mean that the eggs my body is producing are not of good quality. Or it could mean that maybe I have some blockage and the eggs can’t get where they need to be. We won’t really know for sure until we run some more tests.

Once again, here’s a shocker… we’re waiting! I’ll go back this week for more torture blood work. The good news is the guy who’s been drawing my blood is super into TV so he’s figured out the best way to distract me from the needles is by discussing the latest episode of The Real Housewives of OC, Below Deck, Grey’s Anatomy, The Blacklist and the list goes one. They’ll test my FSH levels again this week so we can compare them to the last round. Once we get those results back we’ll set up an appointment to determine our next step which will include some pretty invasive vaginal exams… jealous?

So until next time I’ll leave you with this… I’m pretty sure I could make my first million by selling combination packs of tampons and zebra cakes. GENIOUS!