When my husband and I decided we’d like to have a baby, it
certainly didn’t come easy. It’s all
kind of hazy now, but I think we were about a year or so in trying when I went
to the doctor for help. See, I have PCOS
(polycystic ovarian syndrome). For many women,
PCOS means infertility – for me too. I
wasn’t ovulating, or as I liked to refer to it, “my parts don’t work”. So, Doctor O. promptly put me on Clomid and
we got pregnant on the second or third cycle of this. A pregnancy that ended just as promptly at 5
weeks. Of course, I was sad, but I had
read up on the treatment and knew that miscarriages are likely both with PCOS
and with Clomid usage. Plus, many women
miscarry early on like that, so no worries – let’s try again.
The second miscarriage was devastating.
Two in a row was not common.
Two in a row was punishment.
Maybe God didn’t think I deserved to have a
baby.
Doctor O. didn’t want to waste any
more time: I was already in my 30’s, so I was referred to a reproductive
endocrinologist – Dr. G. Specialists don’t
just put you on a medication, they do extensive testing. Testing which revealed I was not immune to
rubella, so I had to be vaccinated and wait another 3 months before trying to
conceive. We discovered I had
endometriosis, among other surgically corrected issues, any of which could be
causing the problems. And top it off
with a “rare genetic defect” of MTHFR, a mutation that causes one to not absorb
folate (essential to the fetus), leading to miscarriages, still-births, birth
defects, etc. Hmmm.
Maybe God didn’t want me to have a baby? Then I thought: if that were true, He wouldn’t
make me want one so deeply. And He
wouldn’t have guided me to a job years earlier at a Catholic organization
(where I would have health insurance that covered all of these tests and
fertility treatments.)
So, on we went -
I injected myself with drugs to make me produce follicles, drugs to make me
ovulate, and after timed intercourse, drugs to prevent blood clots. I had multiple invasive ultrasounds to
monitor my follicle production. If there
weren’t enough large follicles, then more waiting and more injections. Around the third cycle, Doctor G. started
talking IUI (intra-uterine insemination).
He said that beyond 4 cycles of what we were doing, the success rate was
extremely low. Randy and I had decided
early on that we didn’t want to push things that far – if we couldn’t get
pregnant without resorting to IUI or IVF, then we would stop trying.
This cycle was strange – I started the
injections without my period (if you don’t ovulate, you don’t always get a
period, so the doctors would just start you over growing new follicles.) Then about a week in of injections, my period
came suddenly. Doctor G. had me start my
injections over (they were in increasing dosages). When the follicle check came, there was only
one viable follicle. Defeat. I insisted we go ahead with the injection to
force ovulation anyway since it was our last cycle. And… two weeks later, we found an
embryo! Success! I went back to work that day, and I told
everyone I was pregnant again. Most of
my friends knew about my previous miscarriages, and were surprised and
concerned that I would make announcements so soon. But I told them “I don’t care if I’m pregnant
for only four or five weeks again – I’m going to enjoy every second of it while
it lasts!” Baby Lauren was delivered by
c-section (no easy birth either, of course) five days after my 35th
birthday – 38 weeks, healthy and strong!
My point in sharing all this:
God is good!
He will lead you to where you need to be, when you need to be
there. I gave everything over to Him
with that last cycle. I would have been
heartbroken to have had another miscarriage – no doubt. But I truly did relish my pregnancy (at least
until the last month – who really enjoys being as big as house and peeing her
pants?) And I knew that God would take
me where I needed to be, even if that wasn’t to being this baby’s mother.
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