Because Why The F*ck Not? 

Last week during my baseline they found that my left ovary had regrown the cyst. In the 2 months since my surgery the f*cker had grown back! The worst part, I KNEW IT! I felt it weeks ago and I knew it was back. My husband convinced me it was in my head, like a phantom limb after all these years. So I ignored the pain of it again. It wasn’t until I was laying on the table with the glorious ultrasound probe inside jabbing my cervix that the asshat reappeared on the screen! The clinician said “Wow! That’s a gigantic cyst you go there on your left ovary!” 

The Moment before I had joked about how my left ovary was the main “trouble-maker.” 

Now I was back to “What?!” 
Just what I needed, right? 
The clinician assured me it was “okay” for what we were doing, and then she went on to explain my next set of instructions… I know I didn’t really hear her although I nodded my head like a bobble head. 
It wasn’t until she touched my arm comfortingly that I quietly asked if she was sure about the cyst… I assume she saw the concern on my face she because she smiled softly and said she would review with my doc (who luckily was in that day). I let out a relieved sigh and thanked her profusely. 
For the next few hours I sat around in limbo waiting for the doctor to call to tell me whether they were going to cancel my FET cycle. Then all these strange thoughts came unbidden to my mind… I started to panic about whether it would burst while I was pregnant, if I did actually get pregnant… Do I keep going? Do I stop and go back under to get the cyst removed? How about the whole ovary? Stupid lefty isn’t really responding to STIM well anyway. Get rid of it! 
Luckily that afternoon when I got the normal bloodwork/medication call the doctor said it was okay to keep my medication going and that these cysts often “resolve on their own.” Which is comforting… Except the other one was growing in there for 20 years. I guess the main difference is this one appeared to be full of blood from the ultrasound, not tissue and yuck. 
Having surgery again would mean another month of recovery… Another month before I can move forward again. It also took a ridiculous amount of time to recover… To be fair, I had stage 4 severe… And my colon was glued to my pelvic wall with endo… It was a 4 hour surgery instead of the hour and a half it should have been. Of course, recovery wasn’t quick! At some point I started to believe I would always be this way now. Then one random day I stretched and it didn’t hurt. So I stretched a little further and suddenly I realized I was “normal” again. I had finally “recovered.” 
I should also reaffirm the fact that I also went straight into IVF so my body didn’t have a break. I don’t have a lot of eggs left (let alone good eggs) so I wanted to get what I could out. I figured why not let everything heal at the same time as the surgery recover. My mentality was: If I’m traumatizing my insides, let’s just do it all at one time. It meant I was in WAY MORE PAIN then the average IVF cycle… My ovaries were screaming! I started to talk to other women waiting for their ultrasounds/bloodwork and they would be like “Nope… No pain…” It made me crazy! LoL -Of course the one had stage 1 endo and PCOS, so her STIM was a lot let then mine. I however was responding to STIM so well on the ovaries that I had to start Cetrotide really early to stop my eggs form popping out. In fact, one still did, but that’s because left ovary is a piece of crap. 
Anyways… ALL OF THIS got me to thinking… If I get pregnant, IVF is considered high risk the whole time. If I ended up with a C-Section I could lobby to get my left ovary out at the same time. 

I mean, if they can tie tubes during a C, I think they can take one out! Right?
It’s especially appealing because when I’m just doing the Lurpon injections I feel like a normal human. Not that I’m considering a sex change anytime soon (as a gender nonconforming female I support all gender choices), but I rather enjoyed not having any estrogen. I am now honestly looking forward to menopause! 

And if I got one ovary out that would cut down on my estrogen dramatically… And the growth of my endo (which the doc told me is probably growing back as we speak… And by the growth of the cyst in going to agree). 
I’ve also considered the idea of the Lupron protocol for my endo treatment. I was on BC for 18 years… Which apparently didn’t do a whole lot to delay the progress of my endo. 
Other new and interesting things: 

With this first FET cycle I’ve been dealing with a lot of bullshit. Mainly my period starting a whole week late. And I honestly didn’t realize how batshit I get when I take Estrace. Estrogen makes me nutso. I’ve taken to warning people of my hormones instability… And I’m not even at the full dose yet. AND we haven’t added the progesterone which tends to make me weepy. Angry and weepy is going to be fun.  
I can still feel left ovary making a scene. I will be curious to see if it got any bigger on my ultrasound next week. Right now it’s just the aching that shoots up into my lungs and makes it difficult to breath. That should ease up with the end of my period… 

I guess we will see. 
The moral of the story kids: You know your own body! If something doesn’t feel right tell your doctors! 

Infertility Is Not One Size

Infertility is not one size fits all.

I have endometriosis that ruined my tubes and ate up my eggs. Someone else I know has PCOS. Someone else I know has a weak cervix. The list goes on and on… 

Infertility doesn’t come in the same flavor or size. People need to stop making blanket statements about it.
Whenever someone gives me their crackpot advice it takes strength of will not to rip off their head and drink their blood… (And with fertility meds I do believe that possible at times.) 
Some of the most shitty advice I frequently get: “Be careful! I know someone who did IVF and then got pregnant naturally later!”
Good for them, I can’t begrudge them for their luck. Sometimes the body just needs help figuring out how to do it. I’ve heard these stories too… But they did do IVF for a few rounds before they had any success. They had an IVF baby first. That still shows the worth of IVF. 
HOWEVER, my body is not the same. My body is “broken” for lack of a better word. Natural conception would most likely kill me. Three of my losses have been presumed ectopic because my tubes are so narrow and twisted nothing can get down them. My shitty old doctor didn’t do their due diligence before I switched to a fertility clinic (if your patient calls you and says “I’m pregnant and in a tremendous amount of pain” you should PROBABLY SEE THEM IMMEDIATELY!), so we will never know for sure… But because of what they found inside during my surgery, it’s safe to say that’s what happened. My uterus itself is fine. I can GET pregnant. For heavens sakes, I’ve done it 4 times. -Keeping it, however, is another story… Mainly because of its location “my ovaries/tubes” as not a good place to implant… But also because I have low ovarion reserve and the remaining eggs are statistically high for abnormalities. Luckily, the two remaining embryos (out of 5) we have in the freezer have both been tested and are genetically sound. I am HOPING that now that they’ve been tested we will have success on this FET. (I will still have CVS done to make sure nothing bypassed the first round of testing…) 
If it goes wrong this time we may have to explore the possibility that my body treats pregnancy as an infection. Hopefully we won’t have to cross the bridge of reproductive immunology, but it’s a possibility I live with. 
Without IVF I would never be able to have children because I have to put my embryos in backwards (through my cervix) because they can’t make it down my tubes. 
I wish people would spare me their uneducated advice about MY body.
I especially love when people know better then doctors.

I understand this is not easy for other people to understand, but acting like IVF is some ridiculous alternative I have CHOSEN instead of having normal sex makes me want to scream! Of course I want to spend ridiculous amounts of money to have no sex and stick needles in myself daily rather then enjoyable intercourse! 

My infertility is personal. It’s mine. Everyone has their own type of infertility. That’s why each clinic designs a protocol based on each individual patient. 
Lucky for me, I have some great friends who have been there for me even when they didn’t know what to say or do… They sat silently listening, offering encouragement, and even grieved with us when we lost another one.
In conclusion: 
It’s likely that you know someone with infertility. It’s 1 in 8. Be supportive. Don’t say asshat things. I would recommend a shoulder to lean on, not a mouth full of bullshit. 


. I was reading an IVF success story a friend had passed along my way yesterday, and the woman who had shared her story wrote that “infertility steals who you are.”

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized it. 

Infertility does steal who you are. It steals your body and changes it. It complicates your emotions. It hijacks your hormones. It makes every moment of your life seem like a tiny little hell hole that only you exist in. 

It’s not just sweat you are feeling falling from your skin in this race, you are literally breaking apart. Little pieces of you break off with each hurtle you jump. 

Every moment, every single moment something gets lost. And you cope with it like it never existed before. What choice do you have? 

I feel like my life is measured in doctors appointments. I’m always waiting for the next ultrasound/blood work/surgery. You live in a world of “worst case scenarios” because it can and always does get worse. 

Meanwhile, through all these doctors visits, ultrasounds, and surgeries I ruin special moments for my friends and family. I can’t go dress shopping for my friend’s wedding because I’m lying on the couch on mandatory bed rest. With any upcoming social events I have to gauge what I can and can’t do with what the new cycle might bring, and usually that means a days and sometimes hours notice. I even have to carry my medication with me in a lunchbox because I’m tethered to a schedule. Sometimes I have to inject myself in a public restroom, which feels a lot like a drug addict. 

I have reminders set on my phone to take medication at all sorts of strange hours. 

To make matters worse every time I take Estrace I become a homicidal maniac. What’s with that? 
I took a walk at lunch today and I had to decide whether it was worth it. A walk. Something I used to routinely do… But lately I haven’t (mainly because I physically couldn’t walk -or even bend/stretch for that matter). But I know I shouldn’t be changing my routine too much right now… I know another round of bed rest is on its way. 

The reality is that most of the time I’m like a human slug these days because of my body. I just don’t have the energy. Infertility steals your energy.

Does it get easier? No. You just get used to it. 
It’s like being kidnapped and held hostage by your own body. 

But even so… I am hoping that what was stolen can be replaced with bigger and better things.

Every single moment of this makes you stronger. You will survive and it will surprise you how well you do it. Every hoop you jump through makes the next one easier. You start to expect them. You have to keep pushing. You have to keep taking steps. I know what this reward is, and it’s worth the path littered with the broken pieces of the soul you have left behind along the way. 

Infertility steals who you are, but that’s what a good insurance policy for.