False Positive

On Tuesday, December 14th, my family welcomed a new addition to the family. The cutest, sweetest baby boy- Rocco James Vickers. I was lucky enough to be there for the entire process. From induction, to the C-section decision, waiting for the surgery to be over and then FINALLY meeting him for the first time. It was the closest I've ever been to a live birth. It was truly a magical experience.

The first time I held him I just sobbed. I was overcome with emotion. He was so beautiful, so perfect. I loved him instantly. I had heard that when a mother meets her baby for the first time there is an instant connection, I never knew it was the same for an Auntie. Love at first sight does exist.

As all of my emotions poured out over this little newborn baby, my mom and sister said things to me like, "why are you crying so much? maybe you're pregnant". I guess it seemed a logical explanation for why I was being so "emotional". I just laughed it off, knowing good and well that it wasn't even a remote possibility. After my they continued to make additional comments over the following two days, I finally explained to them that it was impossible. "I just finished my period five days ago!"

But their words stuck with me.

On Thursday, December 16th, Brett and I arrived in Phoenix. We were exhausted from spending the previous days at the hospital and only became more exhausted as the week(s) went on. Between the holidays, sleeping on air mattresses, dealing with the stress being produced by our stay with his family and the time change, we (I) was a mess.

All of these factors manifested themselves into what felt like an emotional roller-coaster with the addition of constipation which in turn became bloating and nausea. This on top of those lingering words from my mom and sister...

On the 30th, I got a call from one of my good friends. She had just tested positive. I was so happy for her (I still am. I'm NEVER resentful of ANYONE who gets pregnant- I know how happy it would make me and I want that same happiness for everyone, especially the people I love). But I couldn't help it, I hung up the phone and the tears came pouring out. It was a full-on melt down. Big heavy sobs.

My sweet husband, just rubbed my back, knowing there was nothing he could do to make it better. But this melt-down was intense. I couldn't stop. I just cried and cried..."why am I crying so much?" The words of my mom and sister, haunting me...the weeks of constipation, bloating and nausea floating around in my mind.

I thought I was going to start my period that Wednesday, it was Thursday. I was one day late. Maybe it was an immaculate conception. Did I mention that we hadn't even slept in the same bed since December 11th?

The next day was New Years. I knew I wanted to drink that night so Brett and I went to Walgreens Thursday night and bought a two pack of tests, just to be sure. I peed on the stick that morning and it was negative. Just like all the other dozens, if not hundreds of tests I had taken in the past. I wasn't surprised. Not to sound like a martyr, but I'm used to it AND you have to have sex to make a baby, so, you know, there's that.

Fast forward to Monday, still no period. I was now five days late. I called my doctor and asked if I should up my progesterone dosage and he said yes but I thought I'd test, just in case, before increasing to two capsules per day. Besides, I still had the second one left from the pack of two, might as well use it.

It was Monday afternoon, about 3pm. I knew it wasn't my "first urine" but whatever, I was bored...or something. I had just taken a nap (remember that whole tired thing?) and I figured, "why not?" So I went to the bathroom, peed on the stick, set it down, went about my business, glancing down every couple of seconds. After about 15 seconds I saw what appeared to be a VERY faint line. I'm not going to lie... I whispered loudly, "holy fuck!" Never had I ever seen anything other than NOTHING.

I took it to Brett and I said, "don't get excited, but I think I see a line". I knew it was faint. I knew he would have a hard time seeing it, hell I could BARELY see it. I mean BARELY. When he didn't see it, I decided I was probably imagining things. But I KNEW I had NEVER seen what I saw.

We just kind of laughed about it. I put it back in the wrapper, placed it in the trash and forgot about it...for a couple of hours anyway. But I couldn't stand it. I just had to look one more time, in different light, like maybe outside.

I reached into the trash, pulled the stick out of the wrapper and there it was, a pretty defined, yet light blue plus sign. I showed it to Brett, he said, "yep, I see it". We decided not to get excited. Even though I have told friends who have questioned their positive results, "there are not false positives", I still couldn't feel confident that is was happening to me. I knew the math, I was pretty sure I hadn't ovulated and I certainly knew that there hadn't been any baby dancing going on. The two major requirements for pregnancy.

BUT, there was a plus sign. There are no false positives...right?

Fortunately I didn't allow myself to get excited. Well, not too excited. After all I wasn't completely convinced. But of course my mind did wander a bit. I thought about how we were going to tell people-- this is something I've fantasized about for as long as I can remember. I wondered what we'd do about fostering. I let myself feel like maybe just maybe it WAS happening to me. And it felt good.

However, it's now Wednesday, two days later-- still no period, but TWO new negative tests.

I hate to sound like I'm throwing myself a pity party, but it DID feel good, even if only for a very short while. I hope I get to see a REAL plus sign some time soon, but until then I will remember those 12 hours when I thought, maybe, just maybe it was happening to me, too.

Coming Clean

Yeah, I know, it's been close to forever since I last posted. I had good intentions but life got in the way. First it was the Mono, then it was travel then it was...forgotten about, then...put off, and off some more and off a little longer.

So what's been going on for the last few months? Well other than THE MONO incident, a trip to Gatlinburg, camping with friends at the lake and going to the beach with family-- not a whole heck of a lot. Oh wait, there was something else...we tried a round of clomid a few weeks back.

WHAT?! CLOMID? You mean you took it and didn't tell anyone?!?!?!

Yes, yes I did and it was miserable. I felt fine- hormonally and physically. I never experienced any side effects. That could be because it didn't work, but it could also be that I am just lucky. Lucky enough to not experience hot flashes, mood swings, headaches, etc. Did I mention it didn't work? Yeah, that's probably why.

Although I thought maybe it was working at the time, it turns out, according the blood tests that my progesterone levels did not indicate ovulation.

The funny thing is that even if it HAD worked, I still wouldn't have gotten pregnant. You see, there's this really important part of getting pregnant called SEX. That which, I made sure not to have after chickening out about getting pregnant at what was assumed, the last minute. Did you follow that? I think that sentence was kind of confusing. Let me rephrase the whole paragraph.

I took the clomid, on cycle days 5-9. According to the directions we were supposed to start doing, what all the message boards call, "the baby dance", on the 10th day. So the tenth day came and it was time to DO IT. What I thought would be this magical, highly anticipated dance, turned out to be nothing but miserable. The stress of it was so overwhelming that I just wanted to cry. It was awful.

We went camping the next day and when we came home I realized that I just couldn't even try. I was scared. Scared of being fat and pregnant. Actually, scared is not the right word. More like terrified. So I chickened out.

It's weird. I feel like I made the right decision, but at the same time I can't decide if I'm being selfish. I'm not asking for your opinion. I know you all support whatever I do and want me to be happy and healthy, but I just feel kind of...bad.

I know Brett is ready to have a baby. I know I'm ready to have a baby. I know what ever baby is in there is ready to become a baby, but I don't want to go through a pregnancy not even being able to tell that I am carrying a child. I want to be able to feel that baby, I want Brett to be able to feel it too. I want to have external belly ultrasounds, not internal vaginal ones because they can't see through the fat. I want people to be able to identify my pregnant belly. I want to be healthy and I want my child to be healthy. I know fat women get pregnant and have babies all the time, but I'm afraid to be one of them.

When the nurse called to tell me that I hadn't ovulated, she said that she was going to call in a new RX for the higher dose. I haven't picked it up yet. Don't know if or when I will.

For now, Brett and I are going to the gym, trying to eat better (as always) and trying to focus on summer vacations and anything and everything that doesn't involve US having a baby.

One more thing-- I need more than two hands to count how many friends and family members have either had beautiful, healthy babies or found out they were pregnant in the past three months.

Baby fever is hard to avoid.

MD Today- part 2

Okay, okay here it is...

So we went the doctor this morning and it went very well, as best it could I suppose. My doctor is a bit cooky to say the least, but easy to talk to and totally on board in helping us any way possible. Since he is not a fertility specialist he is limited in what he can do to help, but is willing to get us through the initial rounds of Clomid in hopes of getting pregnant.

We walked out of his office with our nifty little specimen kit (Brett is less than thrilled) and as well a prescription for Provera and Clomid; now we just wait.

It was never our intention to walk out of the appointment, run to the pharmacy, fill the prescription and come home and do it like rabbits. That hasn't changed.

For now, we plan to just hang out for a while. Let this all settle in a bit and move forward when we're ready.

I'm hoping Brett will come around sooner than later and decide the whole "filling the cup" thing isn't that bad. But I will try to be as patient as I can. Unfortunately, it's not something that can be especially spontaneous which completely removes any opportunity for "romance". It's all very clinical.

First we have to make an appointment with the lab so that they can be ready when we deliver the specimen, then the cup has to be filled (which we can do at home) but we have keep it warm by placing between our legs or under an arm and deliver it within one hour of collection. Sounds like fun, eh? Oh yeah, and no "sex" three days prior.

Who knew jacking it into a cup had to be so scientific. Yeah, I just said, "jacking it", so what?! It's funny! And it's okay to laugh about it.

From there, we'll find out what we're working with. If we've got limited, slow or abnormal sperm at least we'll know and can start looking at herbal supplements and take advantage of other remedies out there.

Once that's all determined we'll move forward.

I'm on day 14 of this "period" now, woo hoo. NOT! And if it doesn't end, and/or a new one doesn't start by the time we're ready to give this whole getting knocked up thing a whirl, I will: take a dose of Provera to jump start a period, take the clomid 3-5 days after it starts then go back to the doc on day 20 for a blood test to see what my hormone levels are and if my progesterone levels indicate ovulation. If my progesterone levels don't indicate ovulation then we start the process again only this time we increase the dose of Clomid. This will continue until A) pregnancy is achieved or B) We've reached the max dose.

If we get to B then we re-evaluate and most likely move to other plan B which is adoption. That's been plan A/B all along and will probably happen regardless...eventually.

RECAP-

Step 1: check sperm
Step 2: take Provera if a natural period doesn't occur
Step 3: take Clomid
Step 4: blood test to determine hormone levels. If test is positive -->Step 5 If it's negative we still move to step 5, because we can and then return to step 2
Step 5: have lots of sex
Step 6: take a positive pregnancy test and jump for joy or return to step 2

Here's hoping for Plan A!

MD Today- part 1

Today is the day we go to see the doctor about Clomid and I'm beginning to feel very nervous. Worried that he'll tell me he doesn't think it's a good idea for one reason or another. That some how I'll be rejected, denied the opportunity to be a mother and left with one more obstacle in my way.

I realize how ridiculous this sounds, but it's how I feel; please don't try to convince me otherwise. The fact is, I'll know his response in about two hours, if at that point my worries are confirmed, then you can feel free to try and comfort me. However, I already know that he is not the end-all, be-all, with regards to baby-making so even if he does say "no", I'm well aware that he is A) not my only option and B) not the one controlling my ovaries and uterus. So, there!

So I'm off! Off to the doctor, wearing my teenage-angst panties, feeling a bit defensive and armed with pessimism, prepared for disappointment. Yay!

Oh and trust me, even if we walk out with a prescription today, my next blog will not be anymore optimistic than this one. I'm okay with that, and you should be too, no one likes to be vulnerable.

I wonder what Brett is thinking?

Day 11, The PCOS Stamp Rant and Clomid!

Well it's day eleven of this "period" and I'm beginning to wonder if it's going to end. As I stated in a previous blog my second-to-last period lasted 18 months so I'm starting to get a little nervous.

I suppose eleven days isn't unreasonable when you haven't had a period in five months, but the fear of another 18 month stint is NOT something to be excited about.

This brings me to my rant on PCOS.

When I was diagnosed 10 years ago, PCOS was not commonly assigned. I had to ASK my doctor about it even though I'd been irregular ever since my first period at age 11. I was always just offered the pill as a symptom manager and there was never a concern. In fact, when I was finally diagnosed that was the RX too...take the pill to regulate and come back when you're ready to get pregnant and we'll use drugs to get you pregnant.

Since then, there have been some advancements I suppose. Doctors are more aware of the disorder and some even prescribe metformin (a diabetes med) to help with the metobolic end of things, which in turn is supposed to make you ovulate.

Here's my problem with all of this. Back when I was first diagnosed the doc performed in internal ultrasound and I remember seeing the "string of pearls" around my ovaries. My blood sugar was normal and so was my thyroid and every other test they ran.

Over the last ten years I've been back a couple of times, different doctor every time because I've moved so much, and every time I've been completely normal-- other than my weight.

If you read about PCOS there seems to be a correlation between the syndrome and obesity. (God I hate that word) But it seems no one knows which comes first. However, normal-weight women can get it too AND many overweight women DON'T have it. So there's really no rhyme or reason.

Another interesting thing about "PCOS" (notice I'm putting it in quotation marks now) is that different women have different symptoms. This is where my rant begins.

It seems to me that "PCOS" has become a bit like ADD/ADHD. "Oh your kid is more than you can handle, well he must have ADD, here's some Ritalin, have a nice day."

With PCOS it's like, "oh you're irregular? Hmmm...well ypu must have PCOS. Here's your 'PCOS' stamp." And that's it. Your medical chart now reads "PCOS".

Before you get upset thinking that I believe ADD is not real, you're wrong. I do believe it's real. I, myself should probably be medicated for it, BUT, it's also become a blanket diagnoses; an excuse for some parents and a money maker for drug companies.

Back to the PCOS, which is why you came here, right?

I call it the "PCOS STAMP" because during my last visit to a REPRODUCTIVE ENDOCRINOLOGIST, a "PCOS" specialist, I was given my stamp once again- as well as a RX for birth control pills and Metformin EVEN THOUGH all of my tests were normal. My hormones are normal, my blood sugar is normal, my thyroid is normal and there were NO PEARLS ON MY OVARIES!!

When I told her I had been bleeding for the past year and a half she was just like, "yeah, that's got to be tough".

My OB/GYN didn't seem bothered by it either. He wanted me to see the specialis to get her "specialized" opinion, but basically told me, "Some people are just fat. Don't worry about it so much. When you want to get pregnant I'll give you a prescription for Clomid and we'll see what happens."

All of this just leaves me wondering if there's something being missed; feeling a little more hopeless, a little more helpless and wishing I was a scientist, or at least knew one, willing to do some intense research just in case they're missing something-- like genetically altered corn or hormone injected chicken or drinking out of plastic water bottles. SOMETHING!

Done ranting.

So now what? Well, I wasn't going to say anything to anybody about this, but because A) I lack self-control, B) We can use all the good energy, thoughts and prayers out there, and C) This is the big one...I know there are other people out there that read my blog who are going through the same thing.

Here it is...Brett and I are going to the doctor on Wednesday to talk to him about clomid. Nervousness ensues.

(I realize this is the THIRD topic that I'm covering in this, "getting longer and longer with every keystroke entry", but it seems that I have a lot on my mind. And rightfully so I guess.)

Why clomid? I'm thirty-two years old, other than my weight, I'm in perfectly good health- normal BP, cholesterol, hormones, I eat well, and did I mention I'm 32? Yeah, that clock is ticking and to be quite frank, I'm tired of putting off having a baby, or at least trying-- I mean REALLY trying.

After writing a few blog-entries, talking to a couple of friends and having a real heart-to-heart with myself, I realized, that losing the weight I want to lose, at the rate I'm going now, will leave me 40 years old and childless. I know "they" say 40 is the new 30, but I want to have a family now, not eight years from now. I'm ready. My heart and my home are ready. Brett is ready. WE ARE READY!! So we're giving it a shot. A real, honest to goodness shot.

We're ready. Ready to face this challenge. Hoping it's just me. Hoping that Clomid will do the trick. Hoping Brett has some good swimmers and that my body will provide a good home for nine months of baby growing...that between the two of us, cause that how it works, we'll be able to make a beautiful healthy baby.