What’s up doc?

To say I was scared to go to the doctor is an understatement. I craved answers, but I didn’t think I could handle the reality.

I finally made an appointment to see why I wasn’t getting pregnant. I’ll never forget the day. The doctor was running late (of course), and I was anxiously sitting in a waiting room staring at a women with an infant. Literally thinking “I might never have that”. I naively expected that I was going to go in the doctors room, my doctor was going to ask me questions, I’d answer them, and she was going to tell me why I wasn’t getting pregnant. Haha. I couldn’t be more far off.

It did start with questions. The usual…”how long have you been trying?”, “when was your last menstrual cycle?”, “do you have regular periods”, etc. They did a PAP, I peed in a cup, then I was told they were going to start with blood work, and recommended I get an HSG.

If you don’t know what an HSG is, it’s a procedure that uses an X-ray to look at your fallopian tubes and uterus. It usually takes less than 5 minutes and you can go home the same day. Sounds easy, right? Wrong. I will tell you now that I’ve had a child this was just as bad as full fledge contractions and you know what made it worse? Knowing I might have done it for nothing. I actually had a horrific experience I’ll share with you all.

I took the afternoon off work and my husband met me at the hospital where I had the HSG done. Prior to going my doctor told me to call my insurance to make sure it was covered because infertility tests often aren’t. To my surprise I was told it was covered so that was great. Anyway, I got there and was extremely nervous. I was told it hurt but being that I have an extremely high pain tolerance I figured it couldn’t be that bad. The nurse called me back and I asked if my husband could come with me. She rolled her eyes, gave me attitude, and said no. Taken back I ok’d, and looked back at my husband while he mouthedyou’ll be ok, I love you” (Sweetest man ever)...off I went…

I was handed a gown and was shuffled to the “dressing room”. By dressing room I mean closet. Straight up felt like Harry Potter. It was a door in the wall. So tiny!! I was instructed to wait in there for the nurse to take me back to the room. So there I sat. Freezing cold, in a closet, ass hanging out of a gown, wondering where the hell this nurse went. This women made me sit in there for FIFTEEN minutes before coming to get me. When she finally came and got me she abruptly told me that my insurance actually didn’t cover the procedure, that it was $700, and asked if I wanted to go home. I looked at her and told her No, I want a baby. I’ll just have to pay it”. Clearly annoyed she took me back to the room. How lucky was I that I had a nurse who didn’t want to be there? I was even more lucky to have this little peach “prep me” for the procedure. Awkward.

When they do an HSG you start by lying down on a table under an X-ray imager called a fluoroscope. They insert a speculum into your vagina to keep it open, and then clean your cervix. Then they insert a thin tube into your cervix and fill your uterus with a liquid containing iodine. The iodine contrasts with your uterus and fallopian tubes on the X-rays. You doctor removes the speculum, and will take images with the fluoroscope X-ray. The contrasting liquid will show the outline of your uterus and Fallopian tubes and how the fluid moves through them. It was absolute agonizing pain, but thankfully it was over quickly. I also had an adorable fat doctor who wore a glitter X-ray bib which made it better for me. When we wrapped up the doctor told me everything looked great so we could rule that out.

So overwhelmed with emotions I broke down on my way home. Between having a terrible experience and getting “good news” I felt extremely overwhelmed. I was happy the test went good, but I was upset I still didn’t have an answer.

A couple weeks later I had an apt with my doctor to go over my blood tests and my HSG test.

She confirmed my HSG went good and we could rule that out. Then she started going down the line of my blood work spewing out a bunch of words I didn’t understand. She got to one of my hormones they tested and said I produced too much of it. In a nut shell this caused me to not ovulate all the way. I’d ovulate but I wouldn’t release enough eggs. So my body would hold onto them and either form a cyst or release them during my next ovulation. She diagnosed me with PCOS. Polycystic ovary syndrome. She recommended I take a pill on the 4th day of my cycle that would help me ovulate all the way. The pill she prescribed was actually used to treat women who have breast cancer. There was a new study out that this pill worked well for women trying to get pregnant, and she wanted me to be apart of that study.

I tracked my ovulation days (such a pain in the ass), took the pill for 3 months, and didn’t get pregnant. I felt SO discouraged so I stopped taking it. A couple months later on the 4th day of my cycle I decided to give it a go again. Only I didn’t have any pills. It was 8:00 at night and I was exhausted. I called the pharmacy to see if they could fill my prescription and they basically did it as a favor since it was a time sensitive pill.

God must have been telling me to do this because it finally worked.

The truths of someone dealing with infertility

Before I go into what happened when I went to the doctor (see Part 1 of my infertility journey), I want to highlight on what it’s like dealing with infertility, and the feelings women experience. I want women who are reading this and are struggling, to feel comfort knowing they’re not alone. To those who have been blessed to have never experienced this I want to help you gain some insight.

Infertility is truly a roller coaster of emotions. While you’re dealing with your own mental games you also have to show up everyday in the “real world”. That was the true struggle for me.

I sat back and watched everyone’s pregnancy announcements, their fun gender reveals, and I went to the baby showers. I dreaded baby showers the most. Strolling through the baby aisles to pick a present while my ovaries were screaming for a baby was not enjoyable. It seemed like everyday I faked happiness, and felt guilt. I felt resentment, and felt guilt. I felt anger, sadness, jealousy, depression, and lots of hope…. mixed in with that I felt true happiness for those around me. It’s really a cocktail of emotions that is really hard to put into words.

In addition to sitting back and watching everyone get what you’re praying for (some you selfishly question how deserving they are) you have the comments. OMG….the comments..

“When are you guys having a baby?!

“Everything is fine there’s nothing wrong with you”

“Getting pregnant is so easy!”

“I’m so fertile!”

“I can’t believe you haven’t had a baby yet”

“You guys aren’t getting any younger”

“You guys would have beautiful babies, get on it!”

“I’m so annoyed my baby doesn’t look like me”

“I can’t wait for our second child we are going to get pregnant in *insert month* so the babies are exactly *insert date range* apart!”

You might read some of those comments and think “yeah right people don’t say that”, or maybe you’re thinking “shit, I’ve said that”. I have experienced every single one of those remarks. In fact I continued to experience them even after I came clean about my infertility struggle (I’ll get into that later). They made my stomach turn. I stopped wanting to be around people because I was afraid I was going to have to deal with the comments, or I’d have to answer questions. I was tired of making up reasons why we weren’t pregnant. I was afraid if I got asked when we were having a baby one more time I was going to snap. Or even worse I’d have to listen to someone bitch about their baby they were blessed with. Women dealing with infertility don’t want to be treated differently, but they also can’t ignore the elephant in the room. It’s not that we want people to tip toe around and be afraid to ask questions. We just want people to be self aware of the questions they’re asking, and the remarks they’re making.

Aside from having to deal with the “real world” you also have to deal with what I call the “fake world”, and the root of so much evil… Social media.

Social media brings so many great things to the table (like you reading me going off about infertility), but it also brings a lot of bad. I go back and forth if the bad outweighs the good. For me, social media made my struggle worse. In fact as a new mother it still gets in my head. When I was trying to conceive I saw all these “Instagram moms” with their perfect bodies, $3000 strollers, fancy binkies, all natural $60 onsies, and perfect pictures. It made me long for a perfect little life, and feel horrible about the fact that I couldn’t even have a baby. I’ve realized now they’re probably all losing their shit when the camera is turned off, they’re buying presets to make their pictures flawless, drinking a bottle of wine a night, and popping a xanax or two.

…I’m half way kidding…

My point is to stop comparing your life to people on social media. DO YOU. You’re not doing yourself any favors and I promise nothing is at it seems. Transparency on the internet is nearly extinct. Everyone is struggling but our struggles are often different. We see a highlighted reel of people’s lives that drives us insane, yet we share our highlighted reel. It’s a vicious cycle, and in the end everyone is just trying to keep up with one another. The more real you can be with yourself and others the more at peace you will be. I recommend detoxing from social media if you feel it bringing negativity into your life. I can’t tell you how many times I did that, and still do it.

As I wrap this up I hope I’ve given insight to those who have never experienced infertility, or have spoken to someone about it. I hope I can be a place of comfort to those who are going through it right now. My inbox is always open. Hang on tight babes. There’s a light at the end of your tunnel too.

In my next post I’ll get into the doctor appointment that slowly changed everything.

Part 1 of my infertility journey

My husband and I were high school sweet hearts, together for ten years, finally got married, and were going to start trying for a baby right away. That was nearly 4 years ago.

I really did grow up with my now husband. I’m 29 years old and have been with him since I was 15…almost half my life! Over the years we day dreamt about our future family. On long road trips we would go through a list of names that we would name our children. We spoke about everything under the sun regarding our future family. We couldn’t wait.

Right after we wed in 2015 we started the “let’s have a baby” process. After the first month of trying, my period came and I didn’t put much thought into it. A couple more months went by and I thought it was just taking a little longer, but that it just does for some. Six months in I felt myself getting offended by my own body. Why wasn’t I getting pregnant? Our 1 year anniversary rolled around and I was starting to really worry, but I refused to express that to anyone. After that 1 year mark the months flew by and I struggled. I’m the type of person who wouldn’t allow others to see my struggle so most of it was behind closed doors (NOT healthy). My husband and I rarely spoke about us “struggling” to get pregnant. Looking back it was clear we were in denial. We kept saying things like “it’ll happen when it’s meant to be”, “everything will be just fine”, etc. I even told family, friends, and coworkers we weren’t trying because I didn’t want to unveil our struggle. Our 2 year anniversary rolled around and I started to feel really jaded about all of it. One person after another I knew was getting pregnant and I pretended to be happy for them… Over and over again.

It was in the second year of our marriage I started to come to terms with the big scary word “infertility”. I decided it was time I made a doctors appointment to see what was going on. I was going to be brave, and I was going to do it! I put that off for 6 months until finally going in…

welcome to my blog

The only impossible journey is the one you never begin. – Tony Robbin

Welcome to my new blog, beauty in your hide. The name of this blog actually came from a makeup journey I was on a few years ago, and has stuck with me since. This brand has been my baby and I’ve had so many plans with it. A blog being one of them. I decided it was time to set that plan in motion. “Beauty in your hide” means finding beauty in your own skin (also known as hide in cattle). Not only physically but mentally as well.

This is a “life blog” and will be about my struggles getting pregnant, getting pregnant, and my journey on being a first time mom. I by no means am an expert in any of these categories, and I’m not a perfect writer; but one thing I’ve always loved to do is help people. So that’s my goal with this blog. To share my story and use my experiences to show other women that they’re not alone, and there is help and support out there. That comparing ourselves to Pinterest and “Instagram moms” is not healthy. I will be real with you. If one person can take something from this blog then my mission is accomplished.

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