My PCOS Story

In honour of PCOS Awareness Month, I wanted to share my personal experience with PCOS. It's a long story – so get comfy!

When I was a teenager, I often had light periods with A LOT of pain. I had an ultrasound that showed some cysts – but nothing to worry about. My doctor mentioned PCOS, but she wasn't worried as I had none of the other symptoms and wasn't planning a family any time soon.

Shortly thereafter I went on the pill, and remained on it until I met my husband. I went off it, in hopes of starting a family, and was immediately graced with very intermittent and sometimes non-existent periods, horrible bleeding and bad cramps. Going from my prior light periods, I was quite surprised at this sudden change. My doctor at the time wasn't concerned, and told me to wait it out. So I did. I waited it out for almost a year. In that time, I gained almost 70 pounds. It was confusing and horrible and I felt like garbage most of the time. The more weight I gained, the worse I felt. It was just a bad year.

I got a new doctor who immediately was concerned by my sudden weight gain and the fact that in a year I had only two periods – both lasting for 3+ months. He did an ultrasound and found a 2 cm cyst on my right ovary and immediately referred me to the top PCOS specialist in my city. In my first appt with her – we'll call her Specialist #1 – she took one look at me, told me I definitely had PCOS, prescribed me Pro.vera for the first 10 days of the month and sent me home – telling me to come back when I get pregnant. Well, as soon as I started the Pro.vera I started to feel poorly. I was bloated, sore, achy, just over all unwell. I called her to ask if these symptoms were normal, and was told she wasn't available. The nurse that had been assigned to my case told me she didn't have experience with Prove.ra and couldn't tell me if the side effects were normal. I asked for an appt, and they told me Specialist #1 was having a “personal issue” and they wouldn't be able to book me an appt. They would have her call me as soon as she could. I waited, and waited, and continued to call and get the same answers. The meds weren't even working – I still hadn't had a period. Weeks went by and I gave up. I called my family doctor and booked an appt with him. He told me to stop taking the progesterone immediately and booked me for an ultrasound. I didn't make it to the ultrasound – within two days I was in emergency surgery having my right ovary, fallopian tube and the cyst - that had grown to 15cms in size and contorted – removed. The surgeon who had performed the surgery was shocked and surprised that no concern had been given to my cyst prior to being put on medication, and offered to take me on as a patient. She became Specialist #2. While I was recovering from my surgery, the office for Specialist #1 called to book me an appt with a different Dr there as apparently Specialist #1 was taking some time off. This was almost TWO MONTHS after I started trying to get an appt because I was feeling unwell. I hung up on them. Maybe it was my hormones adjusting after the surgery, or maybe it was just my anger at their negligence...but I was angry and devastated and all kinds of emotions. At my follow-up appointment for the surgery Specialist #2 went over her findings. She had found a ton of scar tissue from a previous surgery, so she removed that and hoped that would help. She also saw that both ovaries were polycystic, my remaining ovary more so than the one they removed. Given that, and my chance of a recurring cyst, she put me on birth control to prevent the cyst from growing and told me my best option would be IVF – and that if I wanted kids I needed to do this sooner rather than later. She referred me to the fertility program in our area. At the fertility program, I met Specialist #3. I was anxious and excited and nervous to be there, and I was hoping to have a pleasant, kind experience. Boy was I wrong. Specialist #3 was...well, interesting to say the least. She started the conversation with saying “Wow, you're certainly young. I'm curious why you think you need to be here, when you have so many more years to conceive on your own.” That was a bad start. I felt like I was wasting her time and like I didn't deserve to be there because I was 25 and not 35. She reviewed my file and said I had “decades” to get pregnant, so I had plenty of time. Since I had so much time, she wanted me to work on losing the extra weight I have so I'm at my prime for pregnancy, getting my PCOS under control, regulating my cycles and trying naturally for another 3 years before returning to the program. Her parting words to me were “come back to me when you're a skinny minnie”. I was devastated. Just devastated. I mean, I knew I was overweight – and I also knew it was better for everyone if I was thinner. I didn’t expect to go in there and get pregnant today. But it was my doctor who sent me there...not some whim of my own. I was told to go, and go now (hence the referral). And, I had seen women in that waiting room heavier than I was. She had also told me during the appointment that if I was older, she'd treat me anyway but because I'm so young I have the time to do what they can't. It was just a bad appointment all around, and I left feeling very confused and unsure.

I was scheduled for a follow-up with Specialist #2 so I just waited for that appointment and figured we'd discuss the fertility program's response at that appointment – but when I arrived, I was informed by the receptionist that Specialist #2 had gone into early labour and had her baby over the weekend, and so I'd be seeing her replacement...Specialist #4. At this point, I was ready to throw in the towel. No one seemed to be on the same page, no one seemed to even stick around, and I still had never been tested for anything – no blood work, nothing! I was extremely frustrated with the medical system and feeling very much let down...and I was still very unsure of my diagnosis, what it meant, and what exactly had happened so far.

Thankfully, Specialist #4 turned out to be a breath of fresh air. He was a fresh-out-of-school young, handsome male doctor and when he walked in the room, my first thought was are you kidding me? I get some KID taking care of me? A man – who can't possibly understand?? However, he turned out to be one of the best doctors I've ever had. He asked me a couple questions and I suddenly burst into tears. I told him about the fertility program and her cold response, and the previous doctors, and how I still didn't even really know what PCOS was or what it meant for me, and I just sobbed and sobbed. He just sat there, looking surprised but handing me kleenex and actually listening to everything I said. When I stopped crying I sat there mopping my face up, feeling like an idiot and trying to plan my escape from the office when he finally spoke. He said that he wanted to start from the beginning, and he spent over an hour just explaining everything to me. My diagnosis, what it meant, what had happened with my cyst, how progesterone isn't a good idea when you have a cyst, how he didn't agree with the fertility program, and – possibly the most important thing – was that he told me he could treat me with medication. I hadn't known that going into this...I thought I had to see the fertility program for Clo.mid or Met.formin or any other treatment. He was thorough and honest, and he told me that I wasn't obese and he didn't see an issue with me being pregnant at my size. I was healthy otherwise and he was willing to try Clomid. But first, he wanted tests done – TESTS! I was so happy to finally hear those words! He ran all kinds of blood tests and ultrasounds and checked everything out...and for the most part, I checked out. I didn't have any blood markers of PCOS but since the surgeon reported polycystic ovaries, I did still have PCOS. So, we began Clo.mid. During that time I lost 54 pounds, and was very excited for Clo.mid. I only did a couple cycles, which did not work, before we make the tough decision to relocate closer to my family. So we ended our journey there, and took a break so we could move, find new doctors and decide what our next steps will be. In the meantime, we're focusing on being healthy and enjoying life...something we haven't had much of for the last couple years.

Although I sometimes wish I didn't have PCOS, I have learned so much from this experience. We're still waiting for our BFP, but I've made some amazing friends and some truly incredible women on this journey and for that, I wouldn't change it!

** If I could offer advice to anyone currently dealing with PCOS – it's do your research and don't settle for one person's opinion! Ask the right questions, make sure you know what's happening and that you're confident in their decision, and find a doctor who works with you.

PCOS Awareness Month

Hi All!

In case you didn't know, September is PCOS awareness month! Please pop on over to http://www.pcosfoundation.org to learn more about PCOS or, Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome.

There are many different types of infertility – but PCOS is among the top causes. It's not only relatively common but it also has many faces. The disease, it's symptoms and the prognosis all vary per individual woman.

Some women achieve success with ovulation inducing medications like Clomid or Metformin – while some have to use IVF, and others never achieve pregnancy at all. This makes it challenging to treat because there is no scenario or case study to follow. We're all so different, and our experiences with PCOS are all so different, that it's difficult to come up with a single prognosis.

The other thing about PCOS is that it is not just an infertility disease. It's lifelong. PCOS lasts long after you're no longer trying to have children, and some women experience it well into menopause. It's a condition that can affect your health for the rest of your life if not treated and maintained properly. That's, perhaps, the cruelty of it for women who never succeeded in having children – the constant reminder of their infertility until their childbearing years are well over.

Sometimes it can be really difficult to get a diagnosis – because there's no typical PCOS situation and each doctor seems to have their own idea of what makes a PCOS diagnosis. Some doctors believe insulin resistency is a requirement of PCOS, while others say it's only a disease of the overweight. However, I can assure you that neither of those have to be present for you to have PCOS. Due to this inconsistency in knowledge, it can be difficult to get diagnosed and a get on an effective treatment plan. My advice to you is that if you suspect you have it, but your doctor disagrees - get a second (or third) opinion. Look online for a PCOS specialist in your area and make an appointment. PCOS creates different fertility obstacles and being treated properly, for the right condition, could be the jump start your body needs.

A PCOS diagnosis does not mean the end of your journey, but it certainly changes it. Many women go on and have healthy, normal pregnancies – but for some, the journey to the pregnancy is a little rockier. Other women chose different paths – whether it be adoption, surrogacy, or living child free. The importance of understanding, and spreading awareness, about PCOS is so that more women can ask their doctors the right questions, and ensure they get the best possible care during their fertility journey.

 ** I am not a professional, nor do I have an professional experience with PCOS. My experience is purely personal, and based on research. Please visit the above link for more information, or speak to your doctor. 

Hakuna Matata

First of all, thank you, Melissa for allowing me to contribute to this project.  My hope is that we reach many people and create an avenue for anyone with an interest in infertility to ask questions and seek answers.  If you are following, please help get the word out about the blog and share the link.

Sometimes you never know what your true passions are until you are forced into the culture of whatever it is you now find yourself passionate about.  I've been vocal about my feelings towards infertility and our story for a while now.  (Our meaning me and my hot, handsome, best friend of a husband of two years).  I find that so many more people care about us than I really knew of previously.  I mean, I knew we had friends and family that "care", but now I know who really cares.  I tell them, don't tiptoe around things that may be hard for us to hear, like someone else getting pregnant. I say, if you are confused about what to say to me, don't ask everyone else what you should say, ask me what would be helpful.  Now that we've been at this for some time, I have a lot of people thinking of us and asking how we are and what's going on.  Where am I at in a cycle? When have I peed on a stick? How long before old aunt flow arrives?  I realize not everybody is that comfortable talking about these personal things.  However, I'll tell you exactly why I am.  Because in December, after a year and a half of ttc (I have pcos), when we got our very first and only bfp and our very first miscarriage, I realized we were never alone.  At my godson's christening, when we didn't know still if our bfp would stick, I cried.  I held that sweet baby boy, my cousins on either side of me holding my hands, I cried, and then I smiled.  And at Christmas, when we showed up in our pajamas and just sobbed and sobbed, twenty plus arms of love were embracing us.  And we actually managed to enjoy Christmas.

It's been two years of ttc, including a total of 7 rounds of Clomid and two rounds of Femara.  I'm also on Metformin 1500mg.  We are about to start our last month of trying by way of old fashioned intercourse before we add IUI to our list of things tried.  It's about to get much more complicated, inconvenient, and costly.  When we get that next bfp, people will know right away.  We won't wait to tell because people are what got us through the last two years.

Passion.  There's that word again.  I know a lot about infertility. I'm also passionate about mental health.  I'm halfway to being licensed to practice therapy.   I read a lot, I ask a lot of questions, I learn as much as my brain can absorb.  I don't know everything, but I know a great deal.  And I'm passionate about paying it forward.  Blogging is a form of self preservation for me.  And Ask An Infertile is hopefully going to serve the same purpose for others.

Here's my blog:  www.auntmimi2010.blogspot.com
And my Facebook page:  https://www.facebook.com/HakunaMatataSurvivingInfertility

Greetings!

Hello, readers! I am Teresa, "author" at Where The *bleep* is Our Stork?; you will also see me posting around the blog-o-shpere as "Impatiently Waiting".  Recently, I even started a Facebook support group catered toward couples with primary infertility called "The Missing Stork". I was so excited to get an email from Melissa asking if I would be willing to be a part of this project; there was no doubt I was going to help out! I am really happy to be a new contributor here.

Allow me to give you a brief summary of my story: I am 31 and my DH is 38. We have been TTC for almost 4 years now. I was diagnosed with PCOS in February of 2011. We tried multiple cycles of Clomid and Femara as well as 2 HMG cycles with IUI's and many, many, many natural cycles. To date, we have yet to see a BFP. Not. One. Our next option, and last attempt, is IVF. We are not sure when we will cross that bridge but, we know it's in the distance. (you can read more about our "whole story" at the blog linked above!)

I hope that I am able to help others by sharing my experience, the things I've learned along the way and by offering my support.

Thank you, Melissa, for allowing me to be apart of this wonderful blog and welcome all readers to this new community! I hope that you make yourselves comfortable and please, stay a while!

Hugs,
Teresa

Unexplained Infertility

Labels.  They are everywhere.  As much as we try not to, we are always using them.  During my struggle with infertility, I "gained" this label.

Unexplained infertility, meaning that if there was a reason I wasn't getting pregnant, they couldn't identify it.  This is a label you get if all the tests that are run produce normal results.  My husband's sperm analysis was normal, as were my blood tests for insulin resistance and my baseline ultrasound. My estrogen, prolactin, FSH (follicle stimulating hormone), and TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) levels were all fine.  It appeared that I ovulated on my own, based on my progesterone levels late in my cycle.  And yet, I wasn't getting pregnant.

I found that not having a reason, not having something to blame, was frustrating.  If you don't know what you're up against, it can be difficult to fight it.  At first, my RE (reproductive endocrinologist) thought that a round or two of Clomid would do the trick.  It would give my body a little boost, maybe help timing a bit.  When that didn't work, he suggested an HSG test. (Click here for a definition)  The test showed no major abnormalities, although my left fallopian tube did not fill with dye.  My RE was sure that this was because I have experiencing some pretty substantial cramping during the test (look for a post describing my HSG experience soon).  I trusted him, and we carried on, bolstered by the knowledge that many woman have a higher chance of conceiving shortly after the test is done, usually because small blockages and debris could be flushed out by the test.  Around this same time, I told one of my nurses that I was having spotting leading up to my period, around 11 or 12 days after ovulation. Dr. B decided to having me take progesterone supplements during my leutal phase.  Progesterone is a hormone produced by the body, the level of which rises after ovulation.  If a woman becomes pregnant, the corpus leuteum cyst, which is left behind after the follicle releases the egg, is maintained by the HCG (the pregnancy hormone) in the blood, so it continues to release progesterone.  If the body doesn't start producing HCG, the progesterone level falls and the lining of the uterus is shed.

Dr. B theorized that perhaps I was a late implanter, meaning for one reason or another, an egg takes a little longer to travel to the uterus to implant.  If it took longer than 11 or 12 days, it was possible that my uterine lining was already beginning to shed before a fertilized egg could implant there.  By having me take supplements, my progesterone level stayed up, and I didn't start my period.  If I tested negative for pregnancy, I was to stop taking the progesterone supplements and my period would start 2 or 3 days later.

Two months later, we switched to Femara.  I responded well, ovulating earlier than even on Clomid.  My normal ovulation was sometime between day 18 and day 22.  This isn't necessarily indicative of a problem.  Most woman ovulate anywhere between CD 11 and 21.  Fertility drugs made me ovulate sooner in my cycle.  Later ovulation can sometimes point to poor egg quality, but not always.

After our first round of Femara, when I found out I wasn't pregnant, I went in for my usual ultrasound. While I was there, I expressed my frustration to one of the nurses.  She was very nice and suggested we do a more monitored cycle and try a trigger shot, which would better time the moment of ovulation and make it stronger.

That month, we conceived.  Did lengthening my leutal phase help me get pregnant?  Did ovulating sooner in my cycle help me conceive? Was it just chance? We can't be sure.  Since we didn't know what, if anything, was behind me inability to get pregnant, we will probably never know, unless a problem arises.  It's possible we could go on and have more children easily.  But we could also experience the same problems.

The point to this post is this:  Fertility issues like PCOS, endometriosis, and low ovarian reserve are fairly well known and if the correct tests are done or if symptoms are noted, the are usually quickly identified and treated.  Less obvious issues (whether there is a known medical reason or not) can also lead to years of infertility.  Maybe a lot of woman labelled with unexplained infertility have a medical issue that just can't be identified yet.  Science has come a long way, but we are constantly hearing of new developments, tests, and treatments, perhaps someday there won't be so many people with this label.  I certainly hope so.  And I applaud doctors, like my own, that try to treat the problem, even if they can't really identify it.  I don't think I'd have my second son if not for them.

Welcome to Ask An Infertile!

Welcome to Ask An Infertile!  I'm Melissa, and I created this blog because in my opinion there can never be enough resources and outlets on the subject of infertility, TTC, and pregnancy loss.  I am hoping that this blog will because a place to get information about all forms of infertility.  So many woman have questions, and what do we do in the 21st Century when we have questions?  We Google it, of course!  I know I do.  So again, why this blog?  Well, to answer that, I think I'd better start off by telling you a little more about me.

Today, I'm a 31 year old working mom to two incredible little boys, living in Indiana with my wonderful husband of 9 years and the worlds greatest grandma, my mom.  In 2010, when my first son, Tyler, was 18 months old, my husband and I decided we were going to try for our second child, since we wanted our children to be fairly close in age.  When we had started TTC Tyler, we became pregnant about 8 months after I stopped taking birth control pills, so while I didn't expect us to succeed immediately, I didn't think it would take a terribly long time.  Six months or so, that was my guess, factoring in that fact that I hadn't been using any hormonal birth control since we'd had Tyler.

At the suggestion of my doctor, I started tracking my cycles carefully.  I kept notes on my calendar and purchased a fancy little app on my smartphone.  At that time, my cycles were a little irregular, though not alarmingly so.  Sometimes it was 28 days long, but it could go as long as 37 days.  One thing that became clear pretty quickly was that I wasn't sure when I ovulated.  Over the next few months I tried various methods of predicting ovulation.  I charted my BBT (basal body temperature).  I checked my cervical position (I was terrible at that).  I monitored my cervical mucus (ew).  I eventually turned to using OPKs (ovulation predictor kits).  For awhile, even these stumped me!  The first brand I tried would turn positive and then stay that way for 5 or 6 days! 

When I had been trying for about 7 months, I turned to the internet for advice and support.  I found an online forum and I was suddenly thrust into the world of infertility and TTC on the internet.  I was amazed that not only did others feel like I did, but A LOT of others did!  I started making some incredible friends and following their stories.  Suddenly TMI didn't exist!  We talked about our bodily fluids, we talked about BDing with our SOs and DHs (that's baby dancing with our significant others and darling husbands).  We took pictures of our peesticks and scrutinized them together, fiddling around in photo editors to try to see if that might be a line?  We shared the disappointment of another BFN (big fat negative), gave each other advice, and on good days, shared in the excitement of a friends BFP (big fat positive).  We offered sympathy and encouragement.  Suddenly I wasn't alone in this strong desire to have a child.  And that felt nice.

As nice as it was to have support, I was still getting frustrated.  In April 2011, I visited my primary care "doctor", A, who is actually a Physician's Assistant.  I'd been seeing her for many years and just absolutely ADORED her.  She was her usual awesome self, listening to my frustration, letting me let those few tears fall.  She even shared with me a little of her own struggle for children.  She sent me on my way, asking me to try one more month of charting my BBT (I'd given up on it a few months prior), and telling me to come back for a referral to a specialist if I wasn't pregnant in May.

Just my luck, during that crucial week in May I was sick as a dog with a fever.  Dutiful little patient that I was, I trudged into June, knowing I needed real data to bring back with me.  On June 17th, I posted a picture of my negative pregnancy test, saying I just wanted to get my period over with and go back to see my doctor.  Then a member of the forum said she thought she could see a faint line.  Then another agreed.  And another.

I should interrupt myself here with a note--I have TERRIBLE eyesight.  I've worn glasses since I was a toddler.

Anyway, I hadn't seen anything on the test, but that really didn't mean much.  A few girls edited my photo and yes, maybe that was the start of a line?  Only time would tell.

The next morning, I dutifully POAS (peed on a stick).  And there was a faint, but visible second pink line.  It was the day before Father's Day, May 18th, 2011.  It had taken just over a year, but I was pregnant!

But then, so soon after that exciting moment, I wasn't anymore.  I spotted a little bit on Sunday, but my HPT was darker, which comforted me.  Then I spotted a little more on Monday.  On Tuesday, four days after my first true positive HPT, I took another test and the second line was barely detectable.  I went to the doctor and had a blood test, then went home, put my feet up, and fought from assuming the worst.

Unfortunately, the next morning my worst fear was realized.  My hcg level was already down to the point where they considered the result to be negative.  The nurse actually told me I'd never been pregnant at all.  I was completely devastated.  I sat down and cried.  I drove to work, crying.  I worked, alternating between tearing up every time anyone said hi to me, to trying my damnedest to think of ANYTHING else.  I ended up telling more people that I'd miscarried than had known I was pregnant in the first place.  I felt totally cheated.  And more than that, I felt an incredible amount of depression at the though that I'd gotten so close and now I had to start over.

Logically, I knew that this pregnancy had ended so early, there wasn't truly much more than a fertilized egg, some divided cells.  But in my heart, that was the potential baby I wanted so much.  That was another Tyler.  Maybe a brother.  Maybe a girl this time, a little sister.  But that was ripped away, almost before I could even celebrate it.

I mourned my loss.   I went back to see A, even armed with pictures of my positive tests.  She assured me that, of course I was actually pregnant, but that the egg probably implanted later than usual and so my HCG level never got terribly high before it began to drop.  She said that these kind of miscarriages are called "chemical pregnancies" and they are actually pretty common.  An egg with chromosomal problems, or one that doesn't implant correctly will simply be expelled by the body, which senses that something isn't right.  She said that often women don't even know they were pregnant with these.  But she also recognized that to me, to any woman trying to have a baby, it was a loss, and it was okay, natural even, to be sad about it.

She gave me a referral to a specialist, a reproductive endocrinologist (RE).  As a matter of fact, the same RE that had helped her get pregnant with her little girl.  I called him and made an appointment for the next month.

The cycle after my miscarriage was painfully slow and, well, painful.  I had heavy bleeding and terribly cramps, but it only last about 6-7 days.  I was still using OPKs and instead of a positive result somewhere between CD 18 and CD 22, it was CD 28 before I got a positive result.  I had heard that a miscarriage, even an early one, can mess up a woman's cycle.  Yay.

On July 20th, my husband and I went to see my RE, Dr. B.  I liked him immediately.  He was very understanding and listened carefully, asking thoughtful questions.  He said based on my history, I probably just needed a little "boost" to get pregnant again.   And I learned that since I had one child, I was experiencing what is called "Secondary Infertility" meaning I hadn't had trouble conceiving my first child.  I would later learn that my infertility is also considered "Unexplained Infertility" since a cause for me not conceiving easily was never discovered exactly, although there were a few minor things that I think contributed to it (shorter than average leutal phase, indications of late implantation, low progesterone).  He also told me that although there would be times that I would be disappointed, to try not to be discouraged, because together we'd get through it.

First order of business when seeing an RE is a whole mess of tests.  My husband submitted to a sperm analysis, which came back fine.  I had a glucose tolerance test, and ultrasound, and several blood tests.  Everything came back normal, so Dr. B prescribed me a pill called Clomid.  Clomid is a fertility drug that can cause ovulation in someone who isn't ovulating regularly or can encourage a healthier ovulation in someone like me, who is ovulating, but not at the best time of the cycle (Later ovulation can cause the quality of the egg to be lower). During that time, I was also put on progesterone supplements during my leutal phase, since it was on the shorter side and my RE thought I might be getting my period before an egg had the chance to implant. I eventually did four cycles on Clomid.  While I ovulated on day 15 or 16 each month, we did not get pregnant.  Eventually, I had a test called a Hysterosalpingogram or an HSG.  This is an X-ray test where dye is injected into the uterus so that they can see if there are any abnormalities in the uterus or fallopian tubes.  My result was normal, aside from my left fallopian tube not filling.  My RE attributed that to the cramping I experienced during the test. 

During our final cycle of Clomid, we met with Dr. B again to discuss our options.  We could try another pill, called Femara (Letrizole), which is similar to Clomid, but some people respond better to.  Or we could switch to injection hormones, which are more effective, but carry a higher chance of multiples and, usually, a higher price tag.  After checking with my insurance (which covers some fertility treatments and test, but not all), we decided we would start with Femara and save up money to try injections in a few months.

Month one of Femara passed with Christmas 2011 and a BFN.  In January, we decided to do a more monitored cycle.  Basically that meant that I would return to Dr. B's office for a second ultrasound (I had one every month around CD 3 to check for cysts and things) a few days before I expected to ovulate.  At this appointment, they would check the lining of my uterus to make sure it looked thick and healthy, but not too thick and they would check my ovaries for follicles.  They would also have me inject a medication to trigger a stronger ovulation, called an HCG trigger shot.  This basically mimics the surge of LH (ovulation hormone) in the body, causing all mature follicles to release their eggs.  On CD 13 my ultrasound showed good lining and two follicles that showed promise.  The next evening, I injected $85 worth of medication into my muffin top (LOL) and hoped for the best.  Oh, and a fun side effect of this shot?  Since it contains the pregnancy hormone, you get a positive result on an HPT!  I just had to try that out!  I watched the lines fade, but I wasn't sure they had totally vanished.  Finally, with doctor's orders to test 14 days after my injection, I was excited and terrified to see two pink lines!  I rushed to the doctor for a blood test and was told that my HCG was 12.7.  And I was told that was "probably pregnant".  Luckily, I was able to return with confidence two days later for another test, encouraged by darkening lines on HPTs.

So that's my story.  It took 19 months, an early miscarriage, four rounds of clomid, an HCG two rounds of femara, a trigger shot, many progesterone pills, countless ultrasounds and a lot of home pregnancy tests on OPKs, but I was pregnant.  I was truly blessed to give birth to my second son, AJ, in October 2012.

So.  Yes that was a pretty long story.  Anyway, if you're still with me (please stay with me!), that brings us back to the present.  My sons are 4 1/2 and 10 months, but I still reflect on my journey and how it changed me.  I was "lucky", really.  I've read so many blogs, heard so many stories that was much more arduous than my own.  So many people are still struggling, have experienced grief and pain so far beyond what I had felt.  And even as time passes, I still feel very drawn to this community.

During my personal struggle, I wrote on my personal blogger blog, but I also contributed to a blog on a popular website called Countdown to Pregnancy.  I told my story, the same story as is written above, but with more detail.  And when I finally became pregnant, I stepped away.  But every once in awhile, I still get a notification that I have a new comment.  I got one today.  It was from a girl looking for advice.  I responded and then I started thinking.  I LIKED this.  I was kind of GOOD at this.  I may not have had the most harrowing story to share, but it was one that was related to and I really enjoyed sharing what I knew.

And so, Ask an Infertile was born.  So to speak.

I don't pretend that this is a new idea.  But as I stated way up there at the top of this very long post, there really can't be ENOUGH resources out there.  So here we go.