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This is the dreaded blog where I give the sordid details of our story. There won't be many sunshine or rainbows in this post, so feel free to skip it if you so choose! One thing I know for sure, though, is that the sunshine and rainbows are waiting just around the corner...
In May of 2009 I was 25 and Jeremy was 27. We weren't quite ready to start a family yet, but we decided to give it a try, just for a couple of months, to see what would happen. Honestly, I had fears from the very beginning that we might have a difficult time getting pregnant, but don't most women? So, without much thought about things like ovulation or monthly cycles, we gave baby making a whirl. And you know what? I got pregnant! In SIX weeks! We couldn't believe it. I was feeling very timid about telling anyone too early in the pregnancy, but Father's Day was just around the corner, and Jeremy really wanted to make the big announcement then. Why should we worry? We had gotten pregnant so quickly, surely there wouldn't be any complications. So, we made the announcement on Father's Day, in front of both of our families. It was the best day ever. The first few weeks moved along just like they should, and we went to our first doctor's appointment...such an exciting time. Then one Sunday around 9 weeks I started spotting, so we made a hasty appointment with our doctor for first thing Monday morning. Try as he might, the doctor couldn't find a heartbeat. It was the worst day ever. And it was the start of the worst few days ever, as we had to schedule a D & C to remove the dead fetus. We were devastated. But still, we'd gotten pregnant so quickly that we didn't worry too much. We'd persevere and keep trying.
Months passed by and we still weren't pregnant, so we made another appointment, this time with a new doctor. After extensive blood work and testing, she diagnosed me with Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS), a common condition found in women struggling to get pregnant, and she put me on a medication to help me properly ovulate. Additionally, she had Jeremy do some tests that revealed that his sperm counts weren't just as they should be. A couple of months passed by with me taking medication and we still weren't pregnant. It was time to head to a specialist.
After talking to some friends who'd been through similar issues, we chose the reproductive endocrinologist (fancy name, huh?) who we thought would best be able to help us. In July we made our first appointment, and he looked at all of my lab work. Shaking his head, he said that he didn't believe that I had PCOS, and he suggested that we try intrauterine insemination (IUI...in Emily speak, it's like a turkey baster). So he got me set up with the meds I'd need to regulate my ovulation, and off we went.
A couple of weeks later it was time for the ultrasound that would tell us how many eggs I'd produced and when, exactly, we'd need to do the procedure. The nurse dimmed the lights for the ultrasound and we looked at the screen with excitement...but wait...where were the egg follicles? Not there? Hmmm...and off into ANOTHER (unexpected) meeting with the doctor we went. My body didn't respond properly to the ovulation inducing medicine, he explained, but not to worry, we can always try in-vitro fertilization (IVF). WHAT?? This was the shock of the lifetime for us.
So that day, when we learned that IUI wasn't going to work for us, we got information about IVF. The problem with all of these infertility treatments is that they aren't covered by insurance, and IVF costs about $20,000! Should we do it? We didn't have that kind of money laying around to be spent, but we felt like we needed to step out in faith and believe that it would all work out, financially speaking.
Jeremy had to leave a little while before me that day, and I waited
