9/27/2004 - 11:16
I just realized that since I've invited others to read my blog (but no really close friends and family...I want to be able to talk about them behind their backs...hehe), perhaps I should give my new readers my backstory.
Here's the speil: I'm 27 (ok, well, I will be on Oct. 26-yay for Scorpios!), and have been ttc since March of 1999. I always wanted to be a young mother, but now, obviously, that isn't going to happen.
I had always suspected I had endometriosis because of my family history of the disease, and my extremely painful (and when I say extreme, I'm talking gimme some fucking morphene, please) menstral cycles.
After 6 months of trying, I went to my OB/GYN with my fears, and luckily for me, he didn't dismiss me based on my age (I was 21 at the time), and concurred with my belief that I had endo. I scheduled a laser laperoscopy to be performed on Jan. 7, 2000. My Dr. (whom I adored) found and removed the nasty stuff off of my ovaries, uterus, and intestines (I used to have really cool pictures, but they were lost...bummer). So, afterward I was told to go forth and breed!! Tra-la-la...endo is gone...I am fertile!!!! Then, my incision got an infection, which derailed me off the baby train for at least a month while I took antibiodics. No biggie, right? Tra-la-la...will get pregnant any day now!
That's about the time my marriage started to go down the shitter. We were having financial problems, and I felt so alone since I was 1500 miles away from my family and friends. I slipped into a deep depression...I'm talking suicidal here. I decided to move back home to get my head straight, and so I could decide whether or not I wanted to stay married to my husband. He stayed behind for 2 months while he finished out his contract at work, and we eventually worked through most of our problems during that time. When he arrived here, I thought surely, now that all the stress is gone, I'll get pregnant! Gah...I such a disgustingly naive chit to believe that nonsense!!
During this time, it never occured to us to get J tested....see what I mean by naive? His family is muy fertile, whereas mine is not, so we just kept thinking it was me. Ahhhhh....denial. What a blissful state! I still visit it from time to time, but the accomodations are shit, so I don't stay long. Finally, when J went to the urologist to see about a hernia, I mentioned how long we had been ttc, and the Dr. suggested we have him tested. Mind you, while I was (and am) grateful for what little health coverage I have, none the less, my skimpy policy does not cover anything relating to fertility, so the SA would be out of pocket. Two SA's later, we had our answer....2 mil total count, 20% motility, and crap morphology...I'm talking 2 headed-chasing-our-own-tails kinda sperm. I was devistated, and as if my husband wasn't already feeling less of a man, I further emasculated him by breaking out into huge, racking sobs. All I could think about was me; how could I have a baby now? Then I snapped out of it and realized that I wanted our child, which invoves 2 people, not one. The Dr. told us he suspected J had a vericocile, and upon examination was able to confirm this diagnosis. So, we went ahead and scheduled a hernia repair, vericocilectomy, and a testicular biopsy for July 30, 2001 (poor baby's balls were sore for a week). Now, we thought, as we breathed a sigh of relief, now we would be able to get pregnant. I was fixed, he was fixed, life is good right? Nope, wrong again. 2 SA's almost a year apart ('01/'02) show very little improvement. Now J has 5 mil count, but his motility and morph are still super crappy. So, we've been told that without IVF w/ISCI there is no hope for us to conceive. Back to sqare one.
Which brings me to today. Here I am, with no coverage for infertility, no savings, no home to mortgage, no way to get funds. (I was a stupid, young, chit that screwed up our credit....excuse me while I kick my own ass) I finally realized that being a SAHM was out of the question for the moment, so I finally got off my ass and enrolled in school this fall. And you know what? I LOVE it!! I'm finally doing something for me that doesn't involve IF, and I'm working towards a career I've always wanted (I'm going to be a librarian). Hopefully when J and I finish our degree programs, we'll have the money (from our jobs) and/or insurance to pay for ART out-of-pocket. Keep your fingers crossed for me!