August 2010: The Fertility Monitor and Thermometer

You have no idea how annoying those pink lines got. Then I heard there was a monitor that actually tells you when you're ovulating - no pink line! Yay! I also finally gave in and bought a basal thermometer so I can track my temperatures. They rise after you ovulate, so it serves as a "check" for the monitor.

June 2010: The OPKs

Forget this guessing stuff. There were sticks out there that could tell you the day or 2 around when you ovulate and dammit - I was going to use them!

I started using them on cycle day 9. The trick of these is that there's a test line that's always dark pink and a line next to it - you're ovulating if that line is darker than the test line. I had no idea how hard that would be!

So, cycle day 10, 11, 12... you get the picture. Then on cycle day 17 (not exactly day 14 like I thought), it looked darker. We had sex the next 6 days straight. Seriously. TK didn't complain!

May 2010: The Tracking

Having sex was fun and all, but I wanted to know that we were having sex when we could conceive! At that time, I thought everyone ovulated around the middle of their cycles, so we just had lots of sex around that time (in addition to other times - just for good measure, of course!)

March 2010: The Tests

I never had chicken pox that I remember. Chicken pox and pregnancy are bad. So, I had to get a blood test to see if I had the titers. If I didn’t, they would have to inject me with it and I'd have to delay by baby making plans for a few weeks. When I got there, my doctor (love her) had asked the nurses to also take some blood to see if I’m ovulating. I had no idea they could do that. That was beyond my education at that point. I would later learn everything about blood tests when I picked up “Infertility for Dummies”. Seriously. I didn’t even know what hormone she tested. All I knew what that it was in the range that told me I was ovulating.

(I later found out it was progesterone – it’s only produced after you ovulate, so really any level is good.)

February 2010: The Beginning

We didn’t have to default to our start in January back-up plan, because I got a job in January. I started work in February in more ways than one. I started a 8am-6pm job, but I also began my baby-making job.

I figured I was fine with ovulation since I had been off the pill for well over a year and my periods were regular, but I wanted to get my insides checked out. Enter the torturous “HSG” (hysteralpingogram). Yeah, you’d abbreviate, too. My friend had this done – on Valium – and she was in tears. But, this friend does have a flair for the dramatic and has a VERY low pain threshold. Me? High pain threshold, have multiple tattoos – I’m pretty tough.

The procedure was the most painful thing ever. First they insert a catheter that isn’t supposed to hurt – it’s just a tube. Then why did it feel like they had to clip it onto my cervix or something? Afterwards, a dye is injected into your uterus. It’s supposed to feel like “pressure”. Pressure my ass! This was PAIN! I later heard from a doctor that it is the most painful procedure they do without anesthesia.

Anyway the most important news was that I got the go ahead to start trying – my uterus and tubes were clear – YAY!

And so it began. I’m not going to lie – sex with the purpose of creating a child was fun! (At first.) It brings “love-making” to whole new level. I’ll stop there since I don’t know who will eventually read this.

November 2009: The Meltdown, Part 2

I went to visit my friend in the hospital – the women’s hospital. The same place where I wanted to be giving birth in 9 months, but knew I wasn’t. I was already feeling shaky from that and the fact that I had a fight with my mom (my parents were in town for Thanksgiving). As I was leaving the hospital, I saw I had a voicemail from a friend who said she had news. I knew what it was. She was calling to say she was pregnant-with her second. She was going to have two of something I had none of. I couldn’t handle it. Right there, in the middle of the street, I started bawling. My poor parents (especially my dad), had no idea what to do with me. My mom did the best thing she could and bought me shoes – really high heels that I reasoned I couldn’t wear if I was pregnant. Then we went out for Mexican and I drank too much – again, something I couldn’t do if I was pregnant.

November 2009: The Doctor

My friend had to have uterine fibroids removed and I went with her to her doctor consultation. This doctor just happened to be the lead infertility doctor. I'll call him Dr. Grandpa because he was caring but stern like a relative. I sat with her while she chatted with him, and the conversation moved to fertility, and then the conversation moved to me. Here’s the gist of it:

Dr Grandpa: “And you, are you married?”

Me: “Yes.”

Dr Grandpa: “Do you have children?”

Me: “No.”

Dr Grandpa: “Do you want children?”

Me: “Yes.”

Dr Grandpa: “Well, you better get going.”

Me: [Argument about my employment situation]

Dr Grandpa: “Please start – I don’t want to see you in here.”

Prophetic.