Fertilizing Once Again?

When we decided to try and conceive, we first stopped using protection for about six
months. I tracked my cycle and, of course, read almost everything about trying to get
pregnant. After six months, I spent hundreds of dollars on tracking devices and cycle
counters. Nothing worked. We were not pregnant.

So a year in, we decided to try fertility testing. I had to attend a very sterile and sad place
every day for four months straight. I had to endure a full internal examination with a very
large probe…yes, a probe. It was violating; it was like a large dildo with a condom —
hitting it hard. Then blood was taken…I fear needles, and it never became any easier.
As a result, I left the clinic every day at 7 a.m. — I had to get there before 7 so I could
get to work on time — feeling mismanaged and drained. Horrible.

Everyone who sat on my side of the clinic was there for the same reason, trying to figure
out what was wrong. On the other side of the clinic were couples who came in for IVF.
It was so sad to see the couples on the “other” side. They looked tired, and most looked
angry and were not speaking with each other. They appeared to be embarrassed,
defeated, and, for sure, broke. It was very hard to sit on my side of the clinic and worry
about the reality of maybe having to visit the other side one day if this fertility testing did
not find an easy fix.

After the four months of testing, I was becoming very resentful of the whole process and
of my partner, since he was all snuggled up in bed while I snuck out of the house every
morning at 6 a.m. I was the one who had to publicize my infertility every day to nurses
who did not care and very rich doctors who made millions off my “old eggs.” It ended up
that the issue was I had stale eggs: they were old, as I was also becoming, being 35 and
all.

There was a light at the end of this probe. After months of testing, it was clear I needed
to move up my cycle with medication and take a hormone to increase the stickiness
of my wall. And it worked…after two months (I screwed up the medication for the first
month). The hormone worked so well that the egg was so stuck I could not move from
pain for a week.

But Lo was there; he was nestled on my wall and I was pregnant.

Now that the discussions about another child are arising, I wonder if I want to go down
this road again. It won’t be as bad or as long…but is it worth it?

Hmm. I will let you know.

-Gray Mama