Faith

“More than a 50 people have seen my Ladyville,” I thought to myself as my gynecologist was checking me out yesterday. I looked up to the ceiling and started counting each doctor I had seen since my quest began to get pregnant. I got up to 10, but then realized that they were the most recent ones and I just couldn’t remember the rest.

I’m not sure if you recall, but the fabulous Dr. Rory sent me to a specialist after our little embarrassing moment. After calling local doctors and finding out the cost to see one on my own (I currently do not have insurance so every test, visit and medicine has been paid out-of-pocket), I quickly decided that I was going to accept fab Dr. Rory’s recommendation and went to my appointment. He said Dr. Shay (name changed to protect her wonderful self lol) is a specialist with PCOS and not only has her own practice, but works one day a week at Planned Parenthood. Score! A real doctor and I don’t have to pay for it!

After filling out papers, peeing in a cup “just in case” I was pregnant *rolling my eyes* and waiting an hour among teenage girls needing birth control, or PRAYING not to be pregnant or infested with STD’s, I was called. The medical assistant walked me over to the little area where the pee cups were and there sat my little test, with one little sad lines. I was crushed when I notices that the other cups had test strips with two lines on them. I had a feeling the owners of the other cups wouldn’t have been as happy as I would have been in my test had two lines.

She looked down at my test, wrote something down and then asked me to follow her to the doctor’s office. That’s where I met the wonderful Dr. Shay.

I sat with her for about 10 minutes and we discussed the situation. Usually, she’s not suppose to help girls get pregnant. Planned Parenthood helps girls and guys protect themselves and pushes family planning. She was so sweet and understood my situation. After she drew a chart explaining what was going on with my body (DAMN YOU PCOS), she walked me over to where she would check Ladyville out.

After a few minutes of laying there trying to count the doctors who have seen Ladyville, she decided to check my ovaries. She said they felt normal and told me everything looked good. It made me feel hopeful. She then told me that what I’ve told her and from what she’s seen in the blood results, she suggested that I keep losing weight and go on birth control for 3 months. *POP* Went the bubble of hope I had floating over me.

NOOOOO! Not the dreaded BCP!

She said that being that I just had the longest AF and the biggest clots, she suggested that I get my hormones in order first, then to come back after I was almost done with my BCPs and we would take the next step then. She also suggested that my BF have his little men checked, so we know all is good.

I’m speechless, but I think I will do as she wishes. As much as I wanted to start the TTC journey next month, I agree, my body is "out of whack" right now... more than normal too!

I’m hoping by then I’ll have a full time job with medical insurance and be settled in. So much is going on… so much stress coming at me from different directions… it’s the right thing to do. At least this is what I'm telling myself so I don't break down crying.

As I was leaving, there were two teenagers outside sitting on the bench. I could hear one tell the other, everything is going to be okay," while the other sobbed uncontrollably. I could hear the girl's faint voice say, "My mom's going to kill me," as I walked up the stairs.

As I sat inside my car and had a moment to absorbed what was just said to me, I could feel my eyes swell up with tears. It was tough to stay positive and to be strong, when all I wanted to do was cry. Cry for the way my body has betrayed me. Cry for the miscarriages I've had. Cry for the countless times I've seen a pregnancy test with one line. Cry for the girls who take their children for granted and don't realize what a blessing they are. Cry for not being able to give my boyfriend, whom I love so much, a child.

Then I remembered what someone recently said to me... "God may not come when you want him, but He's always on time." Sometimes I forget to have faith, take it one day at a time, leave it in his hands and just... breath.

I will continue to low carb and lose as much weight as I can during these three months. It’s going to be tough. I will miss feeling part of the TTC communities I'm in and talking about OPKs, temping, charting and everything else related to making a baby, but hopefully it will all work out in the end. I have faith in myself and in God, that everything will work out in the end... the way it was meant to.

"Red Fred Strikes Again"

You know what I hate most about having PCOS? The "randomness that is my body". The "never being able to get close enough to people, or let anyone touch my face because there is hair where there need not be any". The "never being able to wear white pants because I never know when Red Fred is going to stick his ugly head in". The "constant wondering if I'm pregnant and peeing on a dozen sticks and getting nothing but Big Fat Negatives (BFN), then waiting a few days and getting the itch to pee on a dozen more pregnancy test, just in case the first dozen were WRONG". The "being a lot heavier than my sister, who is not only 5 times smaller, but eats like a starved pig". The... okay, I'll stop.

Today, I had to go through the most humiliating thing EVER. I've had a reverse period. You know, you start off light and then it gets all, "Holy crap! Who opened the flood gates?!" as it goes alone. I'm on CD16. For those of you who don't talk "I'M-CONSUMED-WITH-GETTING-PREGNANT-SO I'M CHARTING-DOING OPKS-USING THE CBEFM-LIFTING MY BUTT UP AFTER SEX" talk, that means my first day of last period was 16 days ago. Well, guess what? IT HASN'T STOPPED YET.

Okay, here comes the most humiliating things that I had to go through in my life. My Endo is now living in Mexico and being that I didn't want to wait until I found a new one, I called my campus Gyno. I had never been to the campus Gyno, but one of my friends recommended Dr. Rory. (Name has been changed to save this poor Dr. from the embarrassment I put them through.) Well, my friend was all, "I love Dr. Rory! Go in! Dr. Rory is the best!" For some reason, I thought this "famous" Dr. Rory was, well, a female. Call me old fashion, call me a feminist, call me mental, I just did. When I get to this famous Dr. Rory, out comes a male doctor. Not just, a male Doctor, but it's Doogie-freaking-Howser!!

This was my face->



After talking to him for about 10 minutes and answering the most absurd questions (does he really need to know if I'm not satisfied with my sex life?), he says the dreaded words... "I'm going to have to do a pelvic exam."

I ask him, "Really? But, I just told you I was on my period. I just told you there have been these crazy monster sized... TMI UP AHEAD SO SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH IF YOU'RE EASILY GROSSED OUT!! WARNING! WARNING! blood clots that are scaring the b'jeebies out of me. Do you really, really have to look in Ladyville? I mean, REALLY?"

He assures me that he has seen it all, done these examinations before and blood doesn't bother him. He called the nurse and as she arrived, so did the extreme burst of color to my face. I felt such embarrassment. It's bad enough to have a pap exam done when Red Fred is not around, but when he's here and he's throwing big heavy luggage at you, then well, it's horrific.

Everything was going well. For a brief moment, famous Dr. Rory was all, "there's just a little blood" and going on his merry way. He asks, "Does this hurt? Do you feel pain when I press here?" Nothing. I felt nothing.

Then, there was SILENCE. Not like the kind of silence when you know your doctor is hard at work, trying to figure out what's going on... but the kind of silence that makes you worry. The kind of silence you imagine is going on when someone's deep in thought trying to figure out the cure for cancer.

Suddenly, I look up and see his face. It looked like this->



He stutters a little and says, TMI UP AHEAD SO SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH IF YOU'RE EASILY GROSSED OUT!! WARNING! WARNING! "I see... I see what you mean about monster sized blood clots." The nurse and him suddenly go all a frenzy. He asks her for tissue or a pad, or a newspaper to clean up the bloody mess. (Okay, I just added the last one in there to see if you were listening.)

THEN, I could feel panic. Tissues were flying like something exploded and fab Dr. Rory was trying to keep it from getting all over the table. I can just see it now. He's like, "La la la la la. I'm doing my job." Then, "Holy sh*t Batman! What's that?!" *SPLAT!* Seriously. There was some SERIOUS patting of Ladyville. I felt SO ashamed that Red Fred decided to toss out some heavy luggage when fabulous Dr. Rory was exploring Ladyville, that I didn't even look up.

Not more than a few minutes later, Dr. Rory asks me to sit up and abandons ship. He slips off his gloves, but I can clearly see he's holding something in one of his hands and does NOT want to open it. I don't even ask. We were all a dozen shades of red.

I warned Dr. Rory, but nooooo. He wanted to go in there. He didn't believe me when I said it was a hot mess down there.

Needless to say, fabulous Dr. Rory was not-so-fabulous and I have an appointment on the 27th with a specialist. All that embarrassment just to be redirected to someone else. All he could positively tell me, from the results that come in from the blood test I had done earlier, was that my cholesterol levels were fine. Um... okay.

Thanks for the most embarrassing moment of my life, Dr. Rory. I hope it stays in your mind forever, because it sure as hell will stay in mine.