The Roller Coaster

This week has been a rough one. I always knew that TTC for us would be a challenge. Call it a gut feeling, call it intuition, call it what you will, but I always knew. I knew when I was in my early 20's and I would only get AF twice in one year. I knew when I would get random spotting every 26 days, but no actual period. I knew something was wrong even though the doctors told me it was "normal". I just knew.

That is the reason that I told Andre that I wanted to go off BCP a full year before we actually started TTC. I wanted to get those hormones out of my system. I wanted to give my body the benefit of the doubt, I wanted to see if maybe, just maybe I would be like those women who had wonky cycles before going on the pill only to come off it years later and be like "clockwork". The universe had other plans for me. So I prepared myself. I did research on online forums, googled different conditions, took mental notes when friends talked about fertility treatments, costs and side effects. Trying to prepare myself as much as possible for that inevitable moment when some doctor told me what was wrong with me.

So when Dr C finally uttered those four words that would seal the deal, give me a label, and most likely change the rest of my reproductive life forever I was just a teeny tiny bit prepared. Happy even. There was a reason, a name, a label. There was something wrong with me! The best part is that it is a common thing, something he sees all the time, something he treats all the time. It was not a matter of if he could help us get pregnant, it was a matter of when.

I was prepared for the diagnosis, I was prepared for the plan, the Metformin, the Clomid. What you can never prepare yourself for is the roller coaster that I was about to board. The worst part of this roller coaster is that for the most part you are alone. Yes, I have a wonderful, amazing, loving, supportive husband. Andre is truly my rock. But Andre doesn't have a uterus. Andre doesn't lie on the table with his feet in stirrups while the ultrasound tech violates me with the dildo cam while I pray to God that there are some follicles. For that I am alone.

When the ultrasound tech broke my heart and told me on Monday which was the 14th day of my cycle, that the follicles that she had found the week before hadn't grown, I was alone. When I waited in the hallway of Dr C's office waiting for him to tell me that another round of Provera and a stronger dose of Clomid were inevitable, I was alone. When I realized that my dream of possibly holding a little Christmas miracle in my arms wasn't going to happen, I was alone. Even when Andre wrapped his arms around me on our way out to the car after that appointment and kissed the top of my head and told me he loved me, I felt alone.

All the reading, all the research in the world doesn't prepare you for this roller coaster; the waiting, the hoping, more waiting, more hoping. Until you've been on this roller coaster, you'll never truly know.

"Faith isn't faith until it's all you're holding onto."

~P.B.S Pinchback