The Stigma of Infertility

Why is it that infertility is a hush-hush topic?  I’ve been wondering about it myself lately.  I actually write another blog, which gets pretty decent traffic but I’m afraid to write about my infertility on it there.  Partially because I want to protect husband’s privacy.  MH is very private and as much as I don’t believe any of his friends or family read my other blog, I would hate to betray his trust.  I also don’t want to write about my loss or my infertility on that blog because I’m afraid that it would turn completely into my infertility and my fears.  I’m sure that I would lose readers pretty quickly.

I believe that unless you’ve walked in the shoes of a woman who is infertile that you cannot comprehend the roller coaster of emotions.  It helps me to write about my experiences to make it through and I’m so grateful to have a platform to share (even if I have no readers).

It certainly helps that some public figures have been open about their infertility problems like Giuliana and Bill Rancic and Rosie Pope.  I thank them for being so open.  But, the stigma still remains.

The definition of stigma is mark of disgrace or a characteristic defect.  I’m shocked and appalled.  Infertility is not a choice.  It is not something that I wanted to become or to have.  However it does make me feel defective – though it should not.

I want to make it a goal of mine once I’m through the emotional toll to try to figure out how to make infertility more of a topic of discussion.  Infertility should be covered by insurance.  All insurance and in every state.  And it is not.  I know that because our insurance does not cover a penny of my treatments.  Everything we are doing is coming out of our own pockets.  It is a tremendous shame.  Getting pregnant and giving birth is not a luxury.  It should not be considered an elective medical treatment.  It is a “disease” if you will and should be treated as one.

Infertility should not be stigmatized.  We should be able to talk about it with our friends and loved ones.  I just don’t know how to get there myself.  It’ll take some work.  Any thoughts on how to remove the stigma of infertility?

Negative OPK…

If I had gotten a positive OPK test this morning, I would have gone in for a follow-up ultrasound but now I will go tomorrow.  I’m actually glad that I’m going tomorrow because then MH will be with me.  I pray, pray, pray that my uterine lining is thick enough to do the IUI.  I also pray, pray, pray that I have not yet ovulated.  I had one cycle where I never got a positive LH surge, so I hope that is not the case this month.

Tomorrow, I’ll go to the u/s armed with questions that I will ask the doctor.  I hope that I’m not missing anything:

1. What can I take to increase the uterine lining in the next cycle?  Estrogen patch, Viagra, baby aspirin – all treatments for thin lining that I’ve read about online?
2. Is it possible to try a lower dose of Letrozole before going to injectable meds?
3. Can I still trigger without the IUI?
4. Can I still take the progesterone?
5. What is the minimum uterine lining?  What is ideal?
6. What are the next steps?

I am nervous and anxious.  MH came home early from work yesterday and we went for a long walk.  I confessed to him that I am feeling more depressed than ever (with the exception of after the miscarriage) in this struggle to get pregnant.  I know that I’ll get over this hurdle like I always do.  I just am holding my breath until I know what will happen at our appointment tomorrow.  I pray, pray, pray that we can move forward with the IUI.

Our story of infertility

Our story starts last year.  I went off hormonal birth control in August and we were thrilled by a positive pregnancy test in December 2010 – after actively trying to get pregnant for just three months.  Sadly, I lost that baby in a very early miscarriage right before the New Year.  We were both devastated and took a month off from trying.  Our doctor said it was OK to start trying again after a month’s break and that she wouldn’t be surprised to see us back in the office in a couple of months.

“They” say that a woman’s fertility is increased shortly after giving birth/having a miscarriage and so I was hopeful that my body would be one of those and I’d get pregnant right away.  I was sure wrong.  Each cycle that has passed leaves me shattered.   I get so hopeful.  So excited.  I read into every twinge, every ache in my body.  But every month, when my period arrives, I’m left disappointed and sad.

As we were approaching six cycles post-miscarriage, I decided that it was time to get help.  I made an appointment at one of the best fertility centers in our area as well as with my OBGYN to see what they recommend as next steps.  First, we met with my OB.  She told us that she recommended Clomid, which is a fertility drug that hyperstimulates your ovaries and causes a stronger ovulation and the potential for more than one egg to release, for three cycles in hopes that would help me to get pregnant.  The doctor at the fertility center recommended Letrozole/Femara, followed by a trigger (Ovidrel) followed by an intrauterine insemination (IUI).  The entire cycle would be monitored by ultrasound to make sure that everything in my body was working the way it should on the medications.

We chose to go with the more aggressive approach of the IUI with medication.  We both know that we want a child (even more if that is our fate) and we’re more than ready for the responsibility – after all age is working against both of us.  I turn 36 in a few months and my husband turns 43 even sooner.

We rushed to get everything required by the fertility center completed before we could move forward – blood tests for both of us, paperwork, signed consent forms, etc.  I rushed to get the medications that I needed ordered and delivered in time for the first day that I needed to take them and we made it.

Earlier this month, on July 5, I went to the fertility center and had a baseline ultrasound completed.  The doctor gave me the go ahead to start taking the Letrozole for five days.  On the 8th day of my cycle, I needed to start taking ovulation predictor kits to track my LH surge and then on the 11th day of my cycle, I needed to go back for a follow-up ultrasound to see if my body was preparing to ovulate.

That brings us to today.

This morning, I woke up bright and early for my follow-up ultrasound.  I’ve been feeling anxious about this entire process and this morning was no different.  I was feeling eager to see if I’m ready to ovulate because I want this to work and I’m ready.  The ultrasound, which is vaginal, itself is not anxiety producing, it is what they find or don’t find is what makes me nervous.

She did a quick check of my lining and noted that it was thin and immediately went to check my ovaries.  My right ovary had a nice sized follicle.  My left ovary had two even larger follicles.  She said that my ovaries responded nicely to the Letrozole but she was more concerned with my uterine lining.  She measured it and it was a 3.67mm, which is too thin.  I’m numb and shocked.  The doctor said that right now she would not do an IUI or trigger me until my lining is thicker.  If it doesn’t get thicker than we won’t be able to do an IUI this cycle.

The next step for me is to continue to take the ovulation predictor tests and if I get a positive test I need to call the office to schedule an ultrasound immediately to measure my uterine lining again.  If I don’t get a positive test, I have an ultrasound scheduled for Saturday morning.

I left and drove to the supermarket in a daze.  It took me twice as long to get the 10 items that I needed than it normally would because I’m stunned.  As soon as I walked through the door of our house, I fell apart.

I feel like my body is failing me.  The one thing that I want more in this world right now is to carry and give birth to a biological baby with my husband.  It will be OK.  I know that I’m otherwise healthy, lucky to have an incredible husband and an incredible life but this loss and the challenges that we might face are scary.

In talking to my mom about this, I’ve said out lout what I fear the most.  That my thin uterine lining will not ever be thick enough to support implantation and that I will never be able to carry a baby to full term.  My mom reminded me to take this one step at a time.  I need to be reminded of that every day.

Infertility sucks.  I’ve said it.  I have infertility.  I am infertile and I don’t know why.  I’m devastated.