Part I

Compared to the thousands of women who have had years of treatments and disappointments, I know that my experience in infertility is insignificant.  But now that I know what it is really like, I will never take anything for granted, and my heart goes out to all who have been on this journey.

By the time we started the treatments for infertility, we had been trying about 6 months.  I knew more about my menstrual cycle and all its involved organs than I ever wanted to know.  I was already using the ClearBlue Easy Fertility monitor – a device that detects the surge in Luteinizing Hormone (LH) that triggers ovulation.  When the monitor says “high” or “peak” you are supposed to have sex.  Since the window of fertilization is impossibly small, it’s a good tool to have if you need help tracking your ovulation, especially for those who have irregular periods. I’m like clockwork.  My cycles are textbook 28 days long. I ovulate around Day 12 or 13, then my luteal phase (post-ovulation) is about 15 days long.  Since I’m so regular, it’s easy to regulate treatment.

After the initial tests, blood work, and some ultrasounds, my doctor prescribed Clomid, an oral pill taken at the beginning of the menstrual cycle which helps stimulate ovulation.  The pills are taken for 5 consecutive days, starting on either Day 3 or 5, with Day 1 being the onset of your period. I started on Day 3, and I also added acupuncture at this point.  Many fertility clinics will work closely with an acupuncturist because it can help improve blood flow for the ovaries or the uterus depending on the timing of the cycle.  Plus, it’s totally relaxing.

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On Day 11, I had an ultrasound to check the size of my follicles.  The ideal size of your follicles (the pouches where the eggs grow and reside until ovulation) should be around 16mm+.  These follicles have another important function, which is to make progesterone to thicken your uterine lining and provide the progesterone for your fetus.  Once it was established that I had 2 good-sized follicles from the Clomid (typically most women produce one, unless you have fraternal twins, then you obviously produced two), I got an hCG shot.  hCG is a hormone called Human Chorionic Gonadotropin (hCG) that stimulates the ovaries to release the eggs.

Now, I want to go back to the “ultrasound” for a second.  These are not the typical ultrasounds you see on TV where they put the gel on your belly and move the handle.  These are oh-so-special ultrasounds called a transvaginal ultrasound and it’s more like a wand.  It’s not fun, but you ended up looking forward to it because you can see the number and size of your follicles, the early stages of your pregnancy, etc.

Anyway, back to more pleasant topics:  the IUI.  Intra-uterine insemination is where they take the semen, run it through a machine to isolate the actual sperm, and inject it directly into your uterus using a catheter.  I didn’t know until this point that semen and sperm were two different things! This increases the number of sperm that will reach your fallopian tubes, which is where your just-released eggs will hang out until they are fertilized.  Once fertilized, it (now called an embryo) travels down the tube and attaches itself to your (hopefully) thick endometrial lining of the uterus.  It buries itself inside, then starts to grow, and just like that – you are pregnant.

It sounds easy, but even if you do everything right, a normal couple has about a 25% chance of becoming pregnant in a given cycle. With Clomid, the success rate increases to a whopping 30%.

I was not one of the 30%.  After the IUI on Day 12, I waited the dreaded two weeks before taking a pregnancy test.  It showed a big fat negative (BFN).

Round two with Clomid was similar.  We increased the dose, I had about 2 or 3 viable follicles, and we did two rounds of IUI on back-to-back days after ovulation.  One of the unfortunate side effects of Clomid is that it can thin your uterine lining.  As mentioned earlier, this thick lining is important for the embryo so that it can attach itself to a nice, warm, cushiony, full-of-nutrients-and-blood surface.  Round two ended up being a bust.

This whole time, I was trying so hard to be happy for my pregnant friend.  I was sharing all of the gory details and knowledge that I had learned with all of my friends (some more than others, I admit).  I think I was hoping for some sort of recognition from them that I was going through all of this trouble to be a mom, and that not everyone is lucky enough to just “get” pregnant by “not really preventing.”  I wanted them to recognize my pain and my loneliness by sharing, and all I ended up doing was alienating them by sharing too much.  At this point, my emotional state, coupled with the lack of support and stress from my job and school, proved to be too much.  I can honestly admit now that it was a very hard year for my marriage.  We made it through to the other side, but many couples who struggle for years trying to conceive do not make it.  The stress is too much, and any sex that might have relieved the tension is longer fun, but becomes a chore.

I started to grow bitter and angry at the world, my friends, my husband, and mostly myself for not being able to do what nature intended.

… to be continued.

How much of your ttc journey did you share with friends and family?