Getting Pregnant 101 – Guest Post

My guest writer is Jenn, a loving wife and mother of two sweet boys.  She has written a beautiful post about the ups and downs of trying to conceive.  I’m so glad she is sharing her story with us, because I know there’s many people who have gone through this as and can relate. For those navigating similar challenges, resources like doxy pep online can provide additional support and options.

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You know it’s coming…you just finished walking down the aisle and have yet to enjoy the real honeymoon, when countless inquiring minds ask “so when are you having a baby?!” My husband and I had always been upfront about our intentions of having children to our family and friends. Our plan was to purchase our first home, enjoy some time together as a married couple and then take the plunge! Nevertheless, any time my husband or I came close to a baby, or dare I say hold a baby, we’d set ourselves up for scrutiny!

Fast forward a few years later; the house is bought, we feel that we’ve gotten a handle on married life, and decide it’s about that time. Easy, right? We never would have thought it would be another two years before we actually got to hold that sweet baby we always dreamed of in our arms.

So we started “trying,” and trying and trying and trying. It’s not rocket science… or is it? Get the egg and the sperm together, right? That’s what health class, a few inappropriate movies, and other media outlets have taught us. A personal favorite from my upbringing was a movie my parents rented for us kids, entitled “Where did I come from?” A movie my siblings and I enjoyed so much, it was rented on a few occasions.

So why wasn’t this working?…we were doing our part! Every month that passed was filled with anticipation, hope, and excitement; and in an instant was all taken away. Within months I knew my body to a tee; cervical mucus consistency, ovulation timing, best positions to conceive, best positions to conceive a girl, best positions to conceive a boy, etc. I knew it all. I spent countless dollars on ovulation detector kits and pregnancy tests. I would purposely purchase the early detection pregnancy tests, and with each negative result I’d tell myself that maybe, just maybe it was too early. 24 hours later, another stick bit the dust. I used to drive myself crazy researching pregnancy symptoms, and swore I was pregnant every month because I had some of them. Yet, the tests continued to show otherwise.

About eight months into our journey I made an appointment with my family doctor. I broke down right away explaining why I was there. She was kind and pleasant, but informed me I was young and should continue what I was doing, as it was too early to be concerned. I remember her telling me to have fun with it, and that my anxiety and stress may be hindering the process. Have fun with it? Are you kidding me? This was anything but fun for us anymore. Sex was a chore… at least I knew my husband was somewhat enjoying himself, but I definitely was not. Although this may seem dramatic, it is true that it is often impossible for a couple to enjoy their sexual intercourse because of these sexual concerns which you can solve using marital aids like this prostate stimulator.

My doctor went ahead and made a referral to a fertility specialist anyways, as well as sending my husband and I for some tests. Two months and a family connection later we managed to get an appointment to see the fertility specialist. Our doctor is very factual, robotic almost with very little bedside manner. He gave us the rundown as to what tests we will do and possible treatment options. So after many brave visits to the blood lab, ultra sounds, and other tests, we were told there is no reason why this isn’t happening for us. My doctor encouraged us to continue trying for an additional 6 months and if I did not become pregnant, to come back at that time. I left his office feeling extreme frustration and helpless. I left with no more answers than what I came to him with. This didn’t bode well for me, as I’m a very solution focused person. However, how do you find a solution, when you don’t know what the problem is?

I started opening up to others about what we were going through. I was extremely surprised by the number of people I knew who had to undergo various fertility treatments in order to conceive. These people were my ROCKS. My closest friends tried to support me, however as much as they tried to be there and empathize, they just couldn’t. I relied on those who had been there, who truly knew the heartache, and the intense desire to have a baby, but felt like it was such an unattainable dream.

Throughout all this, life continued. We were forced to go about our daily routine and be our “normal” selves, but inside I was anything but normal. One of the hardest challenges was hearing news of friends getting pregnant and how deliriously happy they were. Not to mention hearing “it was only our first try!” I was happy for them, I truly was, but inside I was screaming “why not me? And because we had been married for a few years by this point, the baby questions continued. So, I would smile and say we are “practicing!” A friendly term I came up with to avoid more questions, and to add some humor to a very loaded and emotional answer.

One month after my doctor sent me on my way I decided I did not want to wait any longer. So, I made an appointment with my ob. I’m not a very assertive person, so this was a big step for me. My doctor was supportive, and our next steps of assisted reproduction were discussed. Our plan was to do three cycles of Intrauterine insemination (IUI), before moving forward with In vitro fertilization (IVF) if necessary.

Cycle #1: I start with a drug called Letrozole. A drug actually intended for those with breast cancer, but has also been found to stimulate and increase quality of egg production. In addition to taking the Letrozole, I was required to go to the fertility clinic each morning prior to work for an ultra sound. This was to determine egg size and count. Once the egg/eggs reached full maturity, I had to inject myself with a drug called Ovidrel. This drug induces ovulation, and is timed in accordance with the actual insemination. 10 days into my cycle I was informed that I had two good quality eggs, and I was to inject the Ovidrel that evening for the procedure to take place two mornings later. Now, I am petrified when it comes to needles. You would think that months of providing multiple vials of blood would ease that fear, but it didn’t. So my husband was forced to do it. After countless practice attempts, and many “I can’t do this,” I begrudgingly allowed him to stick the needle in my belly, as I held a pillow over my face screaming.  36 hours later, we are rushing to the clinic with a cup of my husband’s goods in my bra (to keep warm), and full of excitement. After the sperm was “washed”, they were placed in a syringe. Donna, our fertility nurse, whom I grew quite fond of over the course of our journey, joins us in the room as I lay on the bed twitching with anxiety, fear and hope. She immediately sets us at ease by setting the mood. “The candles are lit, the music is on”…. and so on. I needed that. The procedure was quick and painless. The sperm was injected via a small catheter through my cervix. Afterwards I remained horizontal for 15 minutes before I got dressed and went home. I was told I could resume normal activities, however I went straight home and did not get off my couch unless I had to. I went about doing the usual crazy things; researching pregnancy symptoms, counting how many days post ovulation I was, and how many until I could take a pregnancy test. I thought I was pregnant for sure…I mean, how could I not. I had released two good quality eggs, with good quality sperm. However, 14 days post procedure, my hopes were again crushed. I was devastated. I didn’t go to work; I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I just needed to be alone. Somehow, I managed to pick myself up and started again.

Cycle #2: was much like cycle 1, same drugs, same fear of needles, same two eggs, and same emotions 26 days later when I got my period.

Cycle #3: was scary for me. I knew it was our last try before we would go the IVF route (something I did not want to do). Also, instead of taking the oral medication, I moved forward with the injectable drugs. These are stronger hormones that stimulate egg production, however put you at risk of developing Ovarian Hyper stimulation. This is when you produce too many eggs, resulting in a number of health risks, forcing them to shut down your cycle. My husband had to inject me daily for a number of days leading up to egg maturation, followed by the Ovedril as per usual. I was informed I had produced three mature eggs and was given the heads up to take the Ovidrel.

The morning of the procedure I remember getting angry with my husband as his cup had very little in it (I blame the hormone injections). When we arrive at the clinic, we realize Donna was not in that day and another nurse would be performing the procedure. She takes a number of attempts at trying to get the catheter in before she brings in my doctor, who decides my cervix needs to be dilated. He pulls out this metal rod and the next thing I know I am almost passing out on the table because of the pain. I lie for 15 minutes as usual, and then head home.

As anxious as I was this cycle, I stopped doing all my usual habits. I think partly because I was afraid of the answer. The month was May, and is always a very busy one for my family; full of birthdays, and lets not forget Mothers day.  The day was spent with my mom, and as much as I enjoyed our time together, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss. Looking at my calendar that day, I realized that I was able to take a pregnancy test. It was still early, but once again I had early detector ones. I swore I wouldn’t do it, but by the end of the day I had convinced myself otherwise. So I took one, waited the recommended amount of time, and low and behold it was negative…not surprising. Now I’m not proud of this, but one of the many crazy things I had done in the past was fishing out tests from the trash (just incase it miraculously changed from negative to positive). Before bed that evening I happened to “glance” at the test sitting on top of the garbage, and that’s when I saw it; the faintest second line. I wasn’t sure if this was fact, or like other times in the past, imagined. So I took another; waited the allotted time, saw a negative as per usual, muttered something about myself losing it, and off to bed I went. I woke up the next morning, only to find two tests with two faint second lines. I stated to freak out a bit. I took another test thinking if this was for real, it will definitely show with my morning urine. Nope…nothing. I went to work that day and told a close coworker who convinced me I was more than likely pregnant, and should take an actual test and not the cheap test strips I had been using. When I got home from work that day, I didn’t waste any time peeing on that stick. I waited, and before I knew it a big bright second line appeared!!

I cannot even describe the mix of emotions I was feeling in that very moment. Every single tear and ounce of sadness I had experienced over the past year and a half were taken away in an instant. I quickly ran to the Shoppers nearby, found an  “expectant dad” card and put the test inside for my husband.

40 weeks later I gave birth to my beautiful son Mason. He was and is everything we dreamed he’d be and more. He fills my heart with so much love, laughter and pride. He was and is utterly and completely worth the wait.

We have just welcomed baby number 2 into our lives, who was conceived the ‘Good Old-Fashioned Way’……and it “was only our first try!”