The Doctor's appointment that will change our future.

I know this picture is awkward beyond compare and according to my sister Rachel  it makes me look like I have a "uniboob", but it was the only picture I have of the appointment.

Regardless of the odd angled picture, I finally have some updates for you. If you have previously read our blog you know that Ryan and I have been struggling with some fertility issues (by struggling I mean trying for over a year with no luck). Read more here. After several appointments with my regular doctor I made the gutsy move of meeting with a fertility specialist. I felt strangely calm walking into our first appointment, like it was meant to be, Ryan on the other hand, could not stop talking about it the week of. The closer we got to the actual appointment, the severity of his nervousness became apparent to me. He kept asking me, "Are you sure I need to go? Can you please just go without me? Can you call the doctor and make sure he needs me there?" He and I both knew what would be required of him and he was not having it.

For those of you who don't know my husband, you should know that someone uttering the word "sex" makes him blush. Even sexual innuendos make him turn the color of his fiery hair. It is really quite humorous that I chose to marry such a reserved individual considering my family is open about all of the above. I am sure you can imagine his feelings toward a Doctor's visit based solely on sex, babies and every detail therein. DREAD is about the only word I can use to describe it, pure dread.

Nevertheless, Ryan attended to show his love and support. Shortly after arriving we were called back to a room where we sat down and discussed the hopes and dreams of our future with our caring Doctor. After a year of trying, weeks of waiting and urinating on several hundred sticks, our high hopes were short lived.
Dr. F. was a breath of fresh air. He was blunt, educational and refreshingly hopeful which I am utterly grateful for. He gave us the thing we had been robbed of, that which was missing for a good portion of our journey, HOPE.

We tried to remain faithful through our trial, but I cannot express how hard that is to accomplish when you lose hope. My heart goes out to the parents out there who have tried for several years with no luck of bringing a baby into this world. It is so emotionally straining to get your hopes up every month, to wait and wait and wait and finally have the guts to take a test knowing well before you open the package what the results will be. I have been refilled, and I pray that all of you who are trying to conceive can find this renewed sense of hope which I have recently discovered. For the journey can be long, and I know how weary you must feel.

During my appointment I had to get an uncomfortable amount of naked. At least my husband was there to comfort me laugh and take pictures of me in my gown. Soon the gown and nakedness was the least of my worries. What the doctor found was disheartening. My ovaries were filled with cysts, he said he could see around thirty of them. My heart dropped because I didn't know what this meant. The doctor then explained, I will spare you the details but essentially I have been infertile for around three years. Thanks hormones. Suddenly the uncomfortable situation didn't seem to bother me as my mind drifted to the issues before me. For three years I have been infertile, could I have prevented this? I was confused and angry. Luckily, doctors fix things. So he upped my medication, scheduled about a billion other tests, shots and medications for me to take. After handing my sweet Ryan a brown paper bag, we were on our way.

As we walked toward the checkout desk I thought, well this should be easy right? Just a bit more double the dosage of the medication that made me hate eating, a few shots, x-rays and some blood panels, this is at least a step in the right direction. I turned to Ryan with hopeful eyes and what did I see on his face? DREAD. The appointment was over, what was he so worried about? I followed his gaze down to his hand which clasped a brown paper bag with white knuckles. OH MY LANTA. I am going through immense pain, taking a ridiculous amount of medicine that makes me sick, and getting shots and his number one concern is the contents of this little brown bag. I leaned over to his ear and whispered "It's just a brown bag babe". He immediately scowled and shout-whispered "Don't talk about it, talking about it makes it so much worse!" I turned to the nurse next to me "He gets embarrassed easily, don't mind him". She giggled and I turned to Ryan who's scowl remained the same. Awe, so this is what he has been dreading all week. A little brown bag which contains direction and a little clear cup labeled "Semen Sample". I bit my lip and barely closed the car door before I erupted with laughter. I couldn't comprehend why a grown man would be so afraid of a little clear cup, but then it dawned on me. His fear is that he will contribute the same to our relationship that I have contributed. Weakness, infertility, more struggle. I only hope that he does not have to go through the same things I have gone through, the feelings of being inadequate. There is a pain that is brought with infertility, a sense of brokenness that cannot be fixed until you are fixed.

So here is to the future. To fixing what is broken. To a positive pregnancy test. To morning sickness and sleepless nights. To a long labor that is worth every minute. To dirty diapers and spit-up covered clothes. To midnight snuggles and nursing my baby. To a complete family that finally feels whole.