Here We Go Again

Here we go starting the cycle up again: doctors' appointments, possible surgeries, injections, pills, and the list goes on.

It's the cycle of infertility and the treatments that go with it.

I have PCOS, also known as polycystic ovarian syndrome, which is a hormone disorder that comes with a plethora of symptoms.

• Hair Loss
• Obesity
• Infertility
• Missed Periods
• Acne
• Hirsutism (also known as having hair where we don't want it, like my goddam face)
• Depression
• Insulin Resistance and Diabetes

I'm sure there are more on this list, but these are the basics, and they all suck. I've been diagnosed with PCOS for about a year now, and at first, it was overwhelming. There was so much to learn about the disorder, and it explained why I have never gotten pregnant with my husband, why it is near impossible to lose weight, and other crap I've dealt with for years. 

After the diagnosis, I had multiple tests done, ultrasounds and blood tests. Each time it was more bad news. My testosterone was high. I probably had endometriosis, which has been confirmed. Then at the end of November, they told me something didn't look right on the ultrasound screen, and I would probably need surgery. They thought it was a cyst, which made sense considering the name PCOS, but even after multiple ultrasounds, they still were not sure, but regardless, it had to come out. 

I remember sitting in that small, pale office while the doctor told me all the possibilities of my upcoming surgery. I had never met this particular doctor before today. She drew a diagram to explain my possible scenarios. My husband sat to my left, hovering nearby and absorbing the information I wouldn't due to shock.  Best case scenario it was an ovarian cyst. Worst case scenario it was an infection in my fallopian tubes, and both would be removed. I felt utterly terrified. If I were to lose both my tubes, I would never be able to conceive a child without IVF which is incredibly expensive.

As I waited for my surgery, I could now feel the uncomfortable bulge on the right side of my body, wondering if I moved just wrong, would it rupture and burst? 

Luckily for me, I guess, I was somewhere in the middle of the diagnoses they gave me. My right fallopian tube had filled with fluid, but it was not infected. I lost one instead of two. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, but I still mourn that loss and for months afterward, I felt empty and sad because I felt too young to be losing body parts, especially one so important as that to reproduction when my husband and I were and are trying to get pregnant. It just made things more difficult, and they were already difficult enough, weren't they? 

We did the fertility cycle for a few months. Letrazole, a drug similar to Clomid, and a trigger injection shot were used. I got used to the drugs, but it always felt odd waiting for the message to stab myself in the stomach with a syringe.

However, we soon found out I had another problem. There was now a lump inside my uterus - a uterine polyp. We scheduled the second surgery for June. 

In six months, I had been to the doctor countless times, had two surgeries, and was falling behind at work. Teaching is an emotionally demanding job, and every day, I just wanted to cry. I felt so hopeless. Sometimes I still do. 

I try to not get my hopes up that treatment will work. I want to have a baby, but I simultaneously try to tell my brain and myself that I could be happy without children in an attempt to stay realistic that my body may never carry a child. Couldn't I do other things? Couldn't I live a full and happy life without motherhood? I probably could and can, and I am so scared that none of this will work and that IVF will be our only option, which we will never be able to afford. 

Infertility is terrifying. It's an endless abyss that seems to go on.

Then there's the obvious response to this predicament, which I've heard multiple times.

Well, there's always adoption.

Adoption is a beautiful thing, but it is a personal decision, and it is one Brett and I have considered many times, but I'm just not ready to make that decision. We've looked into options, and adoption is pricey, ranging from 25 - 30,000 dollars. To adopt a baby, not an older child, which could be middle school aged and above, is extremely expensive. I've done the research, and most people take out a personal loan in order to adopt. Children are already expensive of which to take care, but now there is an added fee if you cannot make babies naturally!

Actually, fun fact, a round of IVF costs less than adoption.

My head spins when I think of this, and so I continually ask myself if I could live a whole life without children. Maybe I could, but I think I may regret it in the future if I do not give it a proper try.

Until this happens, I'll keep taking school children under my wing and adopting dogs (getting number 3 at the moment) in order to fulfill the maternal instincts brewing within.

I could be a good mom. I would at least like to try. Hopefully, someday I will have that opportunity. Until then, this is going to suck.