We did start TTC on our honeymoon, but that first try wasn't successful. Neither was the next month, or the next. Or the next. At 9 months, I had an annual with my midwife. She took a look at my charts (I'd been charting my basal body temperature to pinpoint ovulation) and said things looked good there. Which meant that if I wanted to try to figure out why I wasn't pregnant, we could start now (because it didn't look like there was a reason why it was taking so long).
My midwife wanted me to do the Clomid Challenge Test to check out my ovarian reserve. However, at my first blood draw, we found that some of the numbers weren't right. They indicated that I had an ovarian cyst, which meant I could not do the test (Clomid is a fertility drug, not safe to take with cysts). An ultrasound confirmed that I indeed had a very large cyst.
Because the only thing that OBs and midwives can really do for fertility is prescribe Clomid, and my midwife could not do that because she didn't want to blow up my ovary, she referred me to a reproductive endocrinologist.
This was big time. This was a fertility clinic. This was where people do IVFs and find out they are infertile. I was scared, but at the same time, I was so excited that we were finally able to do something that might lead us to a baby. I researched like crazy, and chose the doctor I thought would be best for us. It was a good decision, I loved Dr. O.
After a lot of expensive, invasive testing, I didn't really like what Dr. O had to tell us. We could make a baby, he said, but we'd need a lot of help. I had a completely blocked fallopian tube, an endometrial polyp that needed to be surgically removed, I still had my cyst, and I had hypothyroidism (diagnosed earlier in the year). Plus, Keith had male factor infertility as well (very low morphology and low motility). Keith was referred to a special fertility urologist, and I prepared myself for the fact that we'd probably need to do IVF with ICSI if we ever wanted to have a biological child.
Well, and then a miracle happened. We're not sure how or why and it still doesn't feel 100% real.
School had just started, and I had a busy week with after-school obligations (Parent Night and Potluck). I was annoyed because, of course, my period was due to come then. Ugh. My chart looked good, but I was crampy and knew it was coming. For Parent Night, I wanted to wear a pretty skirt, but I didn't want to do it if AF was in town. I decided I'd see what my temp looked like that morning. I knew that as soon as it plummeted, AF was on her way.
That morning I awoke, and had one of my hottest temperatures ever recorded (and the hottest by far of that cycle). It was 15 days post ovulation, so that was incredibly unusual. I decided there was no harm in peeing on a stick. It wasn't going to be positive anyway, we were infertile.
Except it was.
There was no mistaking it. That was not a faint positive, that was a screaming dark positive. I quickly dipped another to make sure the test wasn't faulty. Same dark line. I ran out of the bathroom and woke Keith up, saying "I need you to look at something!" Keith groggily said, "What is that?" I said, "What do you think it is???" He said, "A freebie???" (getting pregnant on your own when you're facing tens of thousands of dollars of fertility treatments feels like winning the lottery).
Neither of us could believe it. I wanted to get a digital test right away, but of course, I had to go to work. I did wear my pretty skirt to work, and afterward I ran out to Target to get a digi before my Parent Night. I couldn't wait to use it, so I stealthily did it at school and up popped the word "pregnant". I took a picture and texted it to Keith, then tried to keep my head on straight while talking to a room full of parents, knowing that I had the best secret in the whole world...