It has never been a secret that we'd like to expand our family. We've talked openly about our desire to have one more child. We had grand ideas about when this would happen. We saved all of our baby stuff from the girls. We made a schedule. We had names! But even the best laid plans (and directions) don't always work out the way you'd like or hope them to.
We saw a fertility specialist yesterday.
I hadn't planned on sharing this personal part of my life with all of you. I got tired of hiding something that I'm not ashamed of, I'm not embarrassed to talk about, and is a big part of our life right now.
We saw a fertility specialist here in Newport Beach because we needed follow up from our fertility specialist back in Israel.
If you weren't aware of our issues, don't worry, not many people were. It wasn't something we were sharing... until now. If you're uncomfortable with this topic, you may want to stop reading right here as I'm going to go into some minor detail about our past few years. Just put your fingers in your ears while saying "la la la la la la la" and wait until tomorrow's posting. I promise it will be lighter, funnier, and with some self deprecating humor. Today is all about me.
We have been quote unquote trying for almost two years now. Of course, we had to work around Matt's crazy work schedule and the never ending visits from the Secretary of State, who I blamed for many a missed cycle. Immaculate conception only worked for one person that I know of... we clearly needed to be in the same place at the same time. So when we were, and nothing progressed, I made an appointment with a specialist. One appointment and several blood tests later we determined that I had hypothyroid disease. Well that was easy. Thyroxine Sodium here we come... and my first of many pregnancies too!
I'll leave out the specifics, but I will tell you that in the last year I have been pregnant several times, had a few D&Cs, more blood tests than I care to remember, several invasive tests, endless medications, and a lot of stress. I won't sugar coat it... it's been a rough year physically on me, on my body, and emotionally for both of us. After a few miscarriages you don't look at a positive pregnancy test the same way.
The specialist yesterday offered us answers and hope. We came well prepared, with 1/2 inch stack of records. After our one hour consultation, he performed an examination and ultrasound, and confirmed his findings.
These next few weeks will be busy. On top of all the shopping, visiting family and friends, the trip up to Northern California, and the relaxing that we're supposed to be doing, I'm having another surgery. A laparoscopy and hysteroscopy. I'm not looking forward to it.... I'll be out of commission for a few days, potentially missing some good sales at Nordstrom. But this doctor is working under our time constraints, switching his schedule to fit us in and "fix" us before we leave for India. I liked him. Matt got a good vibe from him. His practice is very chi chi, something I appreciate after Israel, and will be sad to leave when we go to India. For goodness sakes, he warmed up his KY jelly before his ultrasound! The devil really is in the details...
For the first time in a long time we both have hope. It's been a long, strange road to get here, and will get even windier before it straightens out. But we'll get there. Eventually. And when it finally does, you'll be the first to hear about it... after my parents and in-laws and siblings, and well, when I'm ready to share it. Because I don't share everything. Almost.