Life is good

It has taken me a long time to muster up this post. This last sabbatical I have taken has been one of fear, joy, anxiety, nerves, love and hope. Here it goes…

In my last post I had just gone through an MRI to check for septation in my uterus. The follow up appointment was scheduled for June 22nd. I got a call the first week in June that there was a cancellation and they wanted to move my follow up appointment to June 8th. YAY! I was so thrilled to finally get in, get answers, get surgery planned, whatever.

The night before the appointment I was anxious. I just wanted to know what my next steps would be but there was no way of knowing for sure. Hell, even after the appointment things could change on a dime. That’s how the infertility world works, you know? The next morning I woke up at 5 am. Wide awake. I had to pee and decided, what the hell. I’m going to see the RE today anyway, might as well rule out pregnancy before I go in.

I sat down, peed in my cup, dipped the only test I had (a FRER) and yawned while rubbing my eyes. Immediately I noticed a line and got pissed off. I remember thinking “I would be the unlucky motherf*cker who would get a test with the control line on the wrong side.” It took a few seconds before realizing, that was actually the test line.

I. Was. Pregnant.

I began shaking. I took the test to my kitchen, sat down on the bar stool and just stared and shook. It began sinking in. I am pregnant. This was really happening. This line was real. After about 20 minutes of letting it sink in, thanking God, praying, crying and staring I went in to wake my husband up.

Last summer I had made this cute little handkerchief that said Big Brother on it, for our dog named Kidd to wear as an announcement to Brandon that I was pregnant. So at 5:30 I got my dog out of our garage, tied this cute little bandana around his neck and drug him into our bedroom. I shook Brandon and said, “Babe. Kidd has something to tell you.” Of course his reaction was “What the hell? It’s dark outside Paige.” I said, “Look at him. He’s telling you that he’s gonna be a big brother!” By then Brandon smiled and said very giddy, “This couldn’t have waited another hour and a half?” Hell no! I couldn’t keep that kind of news in.

The day I was supposed to consult for a double surgery I found out I was pregnant. What irony. That afternoon instead of my consultation I had betas drawn. Beta #1 at 14 DPO was 864! Two days later, 1856!

Things were progressing nicely, but I never thought about the effect infertility would have on me once I was pregnant. I began having serious anxiety that things would still go haywire. My body NEVER cooperates. It took 15 cycles to get this positive. I had cysts around every corner. My uterus had a septation (which can cause recurrent miscarriage) and now wasn’t going to be fixed. My thyroid was still being monitored. I kept waiting for the ball to drop. This couldn’t possibly be real.

I had my first ultrasound appointment at 6 weeks 4 days and got to see my little unicorn blob with heartbeat flickering away at 120 bpm. In that moment I was so calm. I didn’t cry, didn’t shout for joy, just stared speechless. Brandon and I left feeling so confident in the pregnancy.

I had a second ultrasound scheduled for 2 weeks later at 8 weeks 4 days. Again, the week before the ultrasound I was shaken with worry and anxiety. Could this be real? My body always fails. I found myself trying to distance myself a little from pregnancy thoughts because while I wanted to be happy and rejoicing I was also trying to protect my heart from what I thought was going to be the inevitable. The ultrasound went wonderfully though and we saw how much the little babe had grown in there. It’s heartbeat this time was beating at 172 bpm and little movements could be seen on the screen. Such a happy moment.

I still find myself somewhere between planning a nursery and hesitating to tell people about the pregnancy. As excited as I am, I am also so scared and full of worry at each appointment. I don’t sit here typing this to sound ungrateful for this pregnancy. I am so thankful for being in these shoes! I sit here typing this in hopes of conveying the fact that sometimes pregnancy after infertility doesn’t just make the pain of infertility go away. It’s still there. It has scarred me and it’s something I won’t ever forget. The loss of innocence during this time is real.

If you are currently pregnant after infertility and dealing with these emotions please don’t hesitate to reach out for support. Either through comments or emailing me at hopingforaherd@gmail.com.

I know you all will love the nitty gritty details so here they are:

Week 5 – Extreme Fatigue, sore boobs, THIRSTY! (Like drink 3-4 liters a day thirsty)

Week 6- Same as above. Dizziness. Becoming concerned I didn’t have morning sickness. Although some mornings I felt kind of like a hangover after a long night out of drinking.

Week 7- Same ole symptoms. Less thirst. Still concerned about the lack of sickness.

Week 8- Same ole same. Feeling bloated.

Week 9- Getting more energy. Not as thirsty. No food aversions, but no real appetite.

Today I’m 9 weeks 2 days.  I have officially graduated from the RE and my first appointment at the women’s clinic is tomorrow. I am nervous about this appointment as well. I hope at some point the fear and anxiety will subside a bit and I can fully believe that this baby will really be in my arms in February.

Fighting for my Family

One foot in front of the other.

I’ve had to keep reminding myself this over the last few weeks. I also need to explain my sudden and extended absence from blogging recently. So, here it goes.

During my last update post, I was feeling really down and discouraged about my 21 day LP and no BFP or period in sight. I contacted my RE and he had me come in for blood work as well as an ultrasound. I made the long trek to the office on a Saturday morning and met with the weekend doctor. She was very nice. During the ultrasound I noticed that the picture looked so huge, and different. Unlike my cysts that usually appear on the screen. I asked her what it was and she replied, “This is a cyst, and it looks like it has fluid within it. It could be leftover from ovulation.” At which point my hopes immediately rose that maybe I had actually ovulated, just late, and I could still be pregnant.

I then went to get blood work to check my progesterone levels as well as re-test my TSH while I was there. When in Rome you know? She said she would be personally calling me by 3:00 that afternoon with results and next steps.

3 o’clock came and went. No call.

Then 4 o’clock, 5’o clock, 6 o’clock and by 7 o’clock I knew she had forgotten about me. I was so discouraged and frustrated. I decided I would call Sunday morning (Mother’s Day) to check in with the weekend doctor and ask for my results and next steps.

I was beat to the punch though when my RE himself called me at 6:54 on Sunday, Mother’s Day morning and woke me up. I was a little shocked, but definitely wanted to know what was going on. He explained that my blood work showed my progesterone was at a 1, but my ultrasound indicated my cysts had grown and one was haemorrhagic. Basically, it was filled with blood. He indicated that this is most likely due to a corpus luteum cyst that would develop after ovulation. Additionally, because my period hadn’t showed up yet he prescribed Provera to induce my period. He said because my cysts had changed size as well as became haemorrhagic I would need to cancel the next cycle as well and wait for the haemorrhagic cyst to go away. At this point I was bawling on the phone. My doctor was very understanding and acknowledged how difficult this must be for me. It actually meant a lot to me that he took time out of his day, morning, Mother’s Day with his wife and kids to call me, ME!

Knowing my history of having cysts at EVERY appointment and US I’ve ever had I asked him what the next steps would be should the cyst still be there at my next ultrasound. Simply put, he recommended laparoscopic surgery to remove it if it isn’t gone by my next period.

SURGERY! Holy freaking shit. I was in shock. Disbelief. Horror. Fear.

I decided to unplug from all technology that day and just spend it with my husband doing things with him that would make me feel like “me” again. The old me I guess. So I did and I began to accept the situation and feel a little better. By that evening, my period had arrived all on her own. Such is life that the things you are waiting for show up when you aren’t expecting. No Provera for me, but this meant another cycle worth of waiting, wondering and praying for these cysts to resolve themselves.

The next day, Monday, my RE called me again. I was in the middle of class when the phone rang and I dropped everything, hushing the students and asking them to color quietly for a few minutes. I answered, hopeful that he had changed his mind and I could continue with this cycle. That was not the case. Instead he said something like this, “Hello Mrs. D, I was reviewing your old ultrasounds and HSG and noticed that they are conflicting. Your ultrasounds show that you have a septate uterus. Your HSG does not match this finding.” Wait, what?! Shock ensued. He then explained what a septate uterus is. When girls are being created in their mothers’ womb, their uterus comes together from two halves and fuses together making one, smooth, whole organ. However, in a septate uterus, the halves do not fuse smoothly and completely leaving a little ‘flap of skin’ around where the halves came together on the inside of the uterus. This can cause recurrent miscarriages.

Remember, I’m in the middle of my classroom, full of first graders, the week before school is about to get out, and now receiving news that not only an I not get pregnant but when I do I may face recurrent miscarriages. The tears were welling up, I was barely holding it together in front of my class.

Dr. Yamakha proceeded to tell me he is requesting I get a pelvic MRI to determine whether or not I really do have a septate uterus. If I do, he would also like me to have hysteroscopy that would go in and cut out the excess skin inside the uterus and correct the problem.

Now I’m potentially facing not one, but TWO surgeries. The news was soul crushing to me in that moment and I began to feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I managed to finish out the last two hours of the day and leave work immediately when kids did. I called my husband, cried and he came home to be with me. I cried, and cried. Wallowing in my self-pity and feelings of failure.

After a few days, the news began to settle in. I began to accept that this is what my next steps were. I could stand up and fight against this infertility or I could sulk and quit. I chose to stand up and fight. I began calling my insurance company for pre approval of an MRI and looking for the cheapest, yet best facilities to get it done. This week I found out my MRI was approved and I chose a good imaging facility on the front range to do it. After many phone calls between Sally Jobe, my RE’s office, and the insurance company I have scheduled my MRI for this coming Friday at 4:30. Brandon will be going with me for support as well.

Right now I’ve resigned myself to one of the following outcomes:

1. I have a septate uterus and require a hysteroscopy.
2. I have cysts that remain and require a laparoscopy.
3. I have a septate uterus and still have cysts and need both hysteroscopy and laparoscopy (which I will ask to do at the same time if possible).
4. I have no septate uterus and the cysts have cleared up completely, allowing me to move on with IUIs in June.

The odds are, I will need some sort of surgery, but I’m preparing myself to hear those words. I’m preparing myself to go through this scary process in the hopes of being one step closer to a baby in my arms.

I’ve been really struggling with my faith and feelings towards God right now, but at the same time trying to trust in Him. This has been a true test of my faith. I am praying that my body heals and I don’t have a uterine anomaly. Most of all I’m praying for my marriage. This has been hard on us. My feelings have been all over the place and my husband just doesn’t work that way. As much as I know this is difficult for him, we grieve differently and sometimes that’s just hard.

Thank you all for your well-wishes, prayers and thoughts for me during this difficult time for me.

I must share that the day I got the final “bad” call about my potentially septate uterus there was a short rainstorm at my house. The following picture was taken from my front porch. Maybe it is a sign of better things to come… Or two better things to come?

If it’s what’s ahead that scares you, and what’s behind hurts you, look above and God will guide you.

Dear Husband

Dear Husband,

I want you to know that this journey is something I never fathomed we would have to go on. Never in my wildest dreams did I think we would one day be discussing the side effects of fertility drugs over dinner.

I know I’ve been a wreck, but this mess of a situation hasn’t been easy on you either. I know it has to be hard on you watching me cry, become self-conscious and distant for no reason. For that, I am sorry. I wish this could be easier on the both of us, really. Neither one of us deserve to wonder if we will ever get the chance to be parents. Some days I wonder if you had just married someone else, you wouldn’t have had to go through all of this.

I’m sure at times you think I should just “calm down and quit ‘rushing it’.” I bet from your standpoint it must feel like I’m constantly obsessing over doctors appointments, times, sub plans, medications I need to take, temping, charting, peeing on things, etc. You are probably wondering what happened to the laid back girl you married years ago.

I need you to know though, that this truly is a pendulum of emotions for me. One minute I feel hopeful that we are going to try something new and maybe get answers or a chance at getting pregnant. The next second I am stressing that my body will continue to be a failure at the new plans set forth by our doctor. It’s hard not to question and second guess every decision that has to be made after facing so many obstacles. Is this the right thing? Is this what God would want? Is this what my husband wants?

I feel like a magic 8 ball that gets asked all the questions, but never has any good answers.

I feel like it’s easier for you to see the end goal instead of the struggles I have to face along the way. I have had to undergo painful testing, embarrassing questioning, showing a million and ten strangers my vajayjay, eat funky diets, digest crazy pills, use half of my sick days, plan minute for minute what my sub should do while I’m away at a moments notice and be the one to stare the the Big. Fat. Negative. that I see every month.

If it was as easy as us just making love and creating a baby I would LOVE to give up all that anxiety. It would be so freeing to just ‘quit hurrying and pushing things’. If only I hadn’t been told that this was only something we have a 2% chance of doing on our own. That statistic was sobering to hear. I feel like I have to do everything I can, every single day, in order to even have the opportunity to get pregnant.

Since my body is the one that has to actually do the work, I feel like I’m the one who has to bear the brunt of the burden. That’s not to say that you don’t have to carry your own weights that come with infertility, it’s just that I carry the physical ones.

During this time I need you more than ever. I need from you understanding, clarity and strength. In my weakest moments, my fearful, anxiety ridden breakdowns of self-doubt, I need you to be my rock. I need to hear those calming words, “I love you. We will make it through this.” I need reassurance that everything I’m feeling is justified and there is no answer at that moment. I need your embrace and genuine understanding of my emotion. I need you to be in my corner. I also need you to be a guide through the decision making process.

The decisions that have to be made are hard. When to move on to something new? How much of a drug is too much? What will our hard limits be as far as treatment goes? What can we afford? When do we advocate for something else in our treatment plan? These are decisions that we must face head on, together. To put it simply, it takes two to tango. This is our tango.

Above all though, I love you and couldn’t imagine going through this with anyone else. Even though there will be days that I am distant, tearful and hard to manage, deep down I could not keep going without you. You are my person. The one who understands me and knows me better than I know myself at times. You are the future father of my children. You, are my husband and one day I, will be myself again.

With Love,

Your Wife

April Report Card

Last time I updated about myself I was about to begin my first medicated IUI cycle. Ha! Here’s my monthly report card:

First Medicated Cycle- F. (For FAIL)

Last week was a bit of a whirlwind and I apologize for such a late update post. On CD 9 I began doing OPKs to check that I we weren’t going to miss my surge. That morning the OPK was so dark that I anticipated a surge the next day. After some debating, I decided to call the RE and leave a message with my OPK results.

They asked me to come in the next day, CD 10 (last Wednesday), to do an ultrasound and check my response. I got a sub, made my plans and headed to the RE’s office the next morning. The ultrasound tech didn’t say much during the scan, which I usually take as a sign of something not great. I met with a nurse and she said that my follicles were not mature yet and she wanted to do blood work to check my LH levels. I left with another blood vial donated and was told to come back on Friday, CD 12.

So… Again I got a sub, made sub plans, drove the long way up to the office and waited for my scan. The ultrasound tech was more chatty this time, but I could tell that she was trying not to say too much. (Another BAD sign.) She finished taking my measurements and I was sent to the little room dedicated for short consultations after wards.

To my surprise, Dr. Yarmulke  came to see me. This actually freaked me out a little. I mean, I haven’t talked to this man since our initial consultation and had kind of resigned myself to the fact that he only handled the “big stuff.” My heart sank. He sat down and told me that my body did not respond to Clomid. At all. UGH! The frustration was boiling, but I kept my cool. He said that he was going to cancel the IUI because it would be “pointless” at this time due to my immature follicles. (For those of you newbies out there, a follicle is considered mature if it is between 18-20 mm.) He said that next cycle he wants me to try Femara/Letrozole and that some women just respond better to Femara v. Clomid and vise versa.

Needless to say I was disappointed, but honestly, what can I do about it? I guess I’ve been looking at it as one more thing to cross of the list. Hopefully Femara will have a better outlook from my body. I can’t help but wonder though if I have some kind of estrogen producing problem. I rarely have *TMI WARNING* cervical mucous during ovulation and my eggs obviously didn’t respond to the Clomid. I plan to ask the doctor about this concern at my next appointment but for now, I just wait.

Maybe my next report card I’ll make the honor roll! Wishful thinking, right?

Be A Lighthouse

Infertility.

What comes to mind when it’s mentioned? Do you know someone who’s going through it? Have you experienced it yourself? Do you think it’s something other people have, but not you? Is it taboo to talk about? Uncomfortable?

See, I find the best remedy for being uncomfortable is getting educated about what exactly is causing the discomfort. If you had went our for dinner and found yourself exploding from all bodily openings, would you not begin searching for answers as to WHY you are experiencing this? More than likely you would get on the Internet and Google your symptoms, leading you to conclude you had food poisoning. More knowledge = More comfort mentally, not necessarily physically. Kapiche?

At this point, I take it you don’t know much about infertility or you want to share your wealth of knowledge with people who aren’t educated yet. So I’ll help you out with that.

THE RUNDOWN:
Couples under age 35, who have been trying to conceive for a year with no viable pregnancy are encouraged to seek infertility testing and treatment. Couples over 35 are encouraged to seek help after 6 months of trying with no luck. 1 in 8 couples in the United States are going through infertility challenges. 1 in 6 couples in Canada, and 1 in 4 couples throughout the world face this struggle at some point.

Now let’s jump to how the heck this can apply to your own life. I mean, maybe you aren’t even going through this. Hell, you may not even care about babies right now…but I bet you know someone who does.

In the (likely) chance you know someone who is battling infertility, you should know a common list of “don’t” and “instead of” things to say to show your support. Here it goes:

1. DON’T SAY:
“Just relax, it will happen.” This phrase is one that every couple struggling has heard before and nonetheless gets old. Stress alone has not been proven to have a significant effect on infertility. While stressing less would be nice, your infertile friend is hearing you say, “you’re too uptight and need to calm the heck down.” See how that doesn’t sound so supportive?

INSTEAD say something like, “I’m sorry. Would you like to get a pedicure or go to a ball game sometime?”

2. DON’T SAY:
“Ha! You can come take my kids! I miss sleeping in, doing whatever I want whenever I want to and generally my ‘me time’.” Any variation of a statement similar to this is like a gut punch to your friend. While we understand that not every moment of parenthood may be a dream, it is OUR dream and we can’t achieve it right now. Couples struggling to conceive would give anything to have those early mornings and pull-your-hair-out potty training moments. It’s something we truly want to experience even though we acknowledge that it is and will be overwhelming at times.

INSTEAD say “I wish you could be able to go through parenthood right now. It has it’s ups and downs but you will be a great parent when your time comes!”

3. DON’T SAY:
Sit silent after learning about your friend’s challenges in the procreation department. Seriously, as awkward as you may feel I can guarantee your friend is feeling the most vulnerable of their life. Telling someone you are struggling to get knocked up is one of the most difficult things ever. The childless friend is already feeling a gamet of emotions wider than the Milky Way. They need your support, listening ear, shoulder to cry on and general pillar of strength in their life.

INSTEAD say “Oh my gosh, I am sorry you have been struggling alone. I am here to talk if you want. I would love to know more about what you have been going through and what you want to do next.”

4. DON’T SAY:
“It will happen, in God’s time.” While you, and maybe even your friend, are Christian, your friend may be struggling in their relationship with God. Your friend may not even believe in God and be offended at this very comment. As a Christian who has walked this long road, I can say that this specific comment was hard to swallow. It makes a person feel as though they have committed some sin so great that they are not worthy of a child. It makes someone struggling with infertility question them self to the core. In your well-meaning attempt to bring peace you have really destroyed their confidence in themselves as a decent human being. Congratulations!

INSTEAD if your friend is Christian say, “I will be praying for you!” You could even find uplifting and hopeful scripture to help them. One resource that has been particularly helpful for me is a book called Hannah’s Hope by Jennifer Saake. It has great resources for the person going through infertility as well as their supportive friends and family.
If your friend is not Christian say, “Waiting must be so hard. I can’t imagine what that feels like.”

5. DON’T SAY:
“You can just adopt!” Adoption is a rough road. It is not only costly, but means that both partners come to terms with being unable to biologically have a child of their own. That realization is difficult. It won’t come overnight, over the course of a week, month or year. This decision is not one that is taken lightly by someone working to grow their family. Throwing adoption out there willy nilly will only encourage your friend to shut down talking to you about their struggle.

INSTEAD say “I will support you in however far you decide to go with treatment! That includes if you get to a point where you are ready to press pause and explore other options.”

6. DON’T SAY:
“Have you tried XYZ?” Warning: After receiving advice on getting pregnant, your friend may or may not experience rapidly rising blood pressure accompanied by increased heart rate, red face, and possible emotional outbursts. Any couple who has been trying for a good chunk of time has done some research on what to try. Trust me, they have. They don’t need you suggesting more crap that they have already considered, tried, or failed at. Just don’t.

INSTEAD say, “I’m sure you have tried all sorts of different things. Tell me about what all you’ve done. Are you going to try anything new?”

7. DON’T SAY:
If your friend has experienced a miscarriage, PLEASE do not say, “At least you know you can get pregnant.” Your friend already knows they were able to get pregnant. They probably still have the pee stick to show you they were, at one time, pregnant. They don’t need you to rub that in their face. Their issue is STAYING pregnant, which is way more complicated than you probably know. Miscarriage cuts to the soul and challenges even the strongest of people to question every move they ever made while pregnant.

INSTEAD say, “I am so sorry for your loss. Your baby was as real as any of my own children and I can’t even imagine the grief you are feeling. I am here for you.”

8. DON’T SAY:
“Trying is the best part! You get to have all the sex! *fist bump*” Having sex frequently may be fun to start out with, but when you’ve had sex 142 times in the last 365 days you may have a very different perspective! Many people don’t even realize that medically, having sex more often than every other day can be detrimental to couples who are trying to make babies. Swimmers need time to mature and swim! Using them up before they are ready will only exasperate the problem.

INSTEAD say, “I hope you are still able to have a good physical, emotional and spiritual (only if your friend is, in fact, spiritual) relationship with your spouse right now.”

9. DON’T SAY:
“Maybe you should get a second opinion.” Anyone struggling to come to grips with their infertility has had a hard enough time accepting their diagnosis. Placing even more lack of faith in the doctors is only going to cause further doubt and turmoil. Additionally, the testing required to diagnosis infertility is not only costly but sometimes painful and generally uncomfortable. Here is an overview of the testing process. Redoing all of that testing would cause a burden on all aspects of their life only to receive news they already have.

INSTEAD say, “How is your doctor? Do you feel comfortable with them? Are your questions being answered and opinions being taken into consideration? If not, maybe you should find another doctor who you feel more comfortable with.”

Sometimes our good intentioned words come out completely offensive to someone seeing them through different spectacles. Your friend needs your support now more than ever. Continue seeking out information about infertility so you are knowledgeable when talking to your friend. Show them you care by remembering when their appointments and special dates are. Check in on them but allow them to take on the lead role in the conversation. Understand that there will be days where your friend may not be strong enough emotionally to do things they once used to. Going to the park, a swimming pool, a mutual friend’s baby shower or even seeing your kids may be triggers of emotional turmoil on the hard days. This doesn’t mean your friendship has to end, it just means your friend needs a little slack and reassurance that it’s okay to take that slack right now. Whatever you do though, don’t quit reaching out to them. This is their time of need.

Don’t you feel more knowledgeable now? Has your comfort level gone up? Above all, remember why you love and cherish your friend. I promise, they are still in there! Even if they do seem like they have left Earth and checked in to some other planet right now.

Here are a few good images I’ve found to sum up infertility as well as bring awareness to others, feel free to share them if you would like!

 

Can you smell the rain?

Rain. It’s fresh. It’s calming, it’s beautiful. It cleanses the Earth and brings much needed moisture to the plants in need while a storm can seemingly rage on in the background. Can you smell the rain?

As you know, the last month has been super rough for me. There were a ton of emotional ups and downs, highs, lows and super lows. I was extremely nervous going in for my CD 3 baseline ultrasound on Wednesday. I had prayed and prayed for days and weeks that God heal my body and my broken heart so we could move forward. The day before the ultrasound I woke up more hopeful, happy and generally accepting than I have been in months. I had a feeling that the ultrasound would go great and we would be moving on with a medicated cycle.

So Wednesday I got my things, hopped in the car and made the 2 hour trek to the REs office in Denver. I wish it were closer, but honestly, the drive is nice. It helps me clear my head, pray and pump myself up. I hit rush hour traffic, which was horrid, but I just kept praying that God get me there in time, and he did. I arrived 15 minutes early even in the midst of 8:30 traffic in Denver! That’s unheard of!

After checking in, the nurse took me back to do some blood work. Now, I have horrible and I mean atrocious veins. They are small, sunken in and roll incredibly easy. I usually only have good luck getting stuck in the top of my hand after a nurse who hasn’t believed me has already poked me 4 other times in my elbow pits (yes, that is a place). So, the nurse tried to draw from my hand, but alas had no luck. The vein was stuck but no blood was coming out. She decided I should go back to have my ultrasound done while holding a hot pack on my arms. Talk about a smokin’ cool wristlet! Perks of going to an RE I suppose.

Can you smell that rain yet?

In the ultrasound room we started the procedure and immediately I could see a cyst on my ovary. I’m no trained sonographer, but it’s not normal to have two ovals nearly the same size on top of each other. The sonographer asked me if I’d been having any pain and my heart sunk a little. The other side however, was clear of the cyst that had been there last month. Woo! Small wins right?

Can you hear the thunder?

Then I was ushered into a room to meet with a nurse. The nurse told me that cysts can be estrogen producing or not. Estrogen producing cysts are the ones that become follicles and eggs can grow from. Non-estrogen producing cysts are just a nuisance. She said that she wanted to do some blood work and if my estrogen levels were low enough we could still continue. I remained hopeful and although nervous, had faith that these cysts would just be a nuisance and nothing else. I left the office knowing that by 4:00 I would have the results and know one way or another.

Can you feel the patter of drops?

On the way home I decided I needed to show an act of faith. I needed this for myself and I needed this to show God, “Hey buddy, I believe you got this in your hands and it’s handled. I love a good jokester and I know you’re aware of that. Please don’t make me wait it out too long!” I stopped at Target and bought a onesie with a whale on it. It reminded me of Jonah from the Bible. I also bought a onesie that said, Daddy is my Hero. Actually, this idea wasn’t all my own. I believe another blogger believes in acts of faith related to baby and does it on a regular basis. I was reminded of this on my way home and decided I wanted, no, needed to take part in this as well.

The next several hours I kept myself busy, although still nervous, waiting for the phone call. I happened to be at work, on the playground with my class no less when she called.

“Is this Paige?”
“Yes, this is her.”
“Paige, this is ARM and I have your lab results. Your estrogen levels came back low enough and you can continue with this cycle!”
“OH PRAISE THE LORD! You don’t know how relieved I am right now!”
“I figured you would be! You can start Clomid tonight. We will see you back next Friday for another ultrasound with possible IUI over the weekend or the following Monday.”

Do you smell the rain?

I was in shock. I was so ecstatic! Finally! Something was going right, and I KNEW in my heart this wasn’t just a coincidence. God was listening. I know I may sound a little holy roller in the post, but guys I have been really clinging to faith that this is meant to be for us. I’ve been in such a low spot emotionally that I needed a miracle to help me get out of my funk. I feel this was all Him. His presence has surrounded me and I can’t explain it but I just feel this blanket of peace.

This, was the rain.

Looking back I can see God through my whole day. He helped me get to the office in time in the midst of rush hour traffic. I didn’t have my blood work done before the procedure, but after. He knew that I would need that blood work and did not allow that vein to pass any blood through the first time. He purposely had me wait to get the results, loving my act of faith along the way.

Which brings me back to the rain. I feel like I have been washed by rain. Cleansed. Nourished. Let it pour down, because from it new life can grow! I hope you can stop to smell the rain. Above all, I wish everyone who reads can gain a sense of comfort.

I will leave you all with this:
God causes his sun to rise on the evil and good, and sends rain on the righteous and unrighteous. -Matthew 5:45

Have you felt rain?