Well, on Monday June 1 we had our consultation with Dr. P. We went in hopeful, but with realistic expectations based on our test results throughout the “observation month”. It didn’t help that my period was a day late (was due on Sunday), so we were already extra hopeful.
Well, Dr. P officially declared it: unexplained infertility. Based on our data and the time we’ve been trying, the likelihood of conceiving on our own is only 1-3%. That was a bummer to hear, but we tried to stay positive. She said that if I wasn’t pregnant, the recommended course of action at this point would be to start Clomid and try IUI, intrauterine insemination. This would increase our chances up to 10–15%. The only issue would be the cyst on my left ovary. If it was gone, or even the same size, then we could move forward. However, if it was bigger, then surgery would likely be required before we could start a treatment cycle, because treatment would likely make the cyst grow.
For those of you who don’t know, my birthday is coming up at the end of August, and at that point I will have to get off my parents insurance. They have been extremely generous in allowing me to stay on their plan, and it has great coverage for infertility treatments. I’ve met most if not all of the applicable deductibles, so we’ve been hoping that we could get pregnant before I turn 26 and we have to start a new insurance plan. The idea of adding surgery to the schedule really threw us for a loop, so we left the appointment nervous, but still hopeful that either A) I was pregnant! Or B) the cyst was gone.
That hope literally lasted about 15 minutes past the appointment, as I got my period soon after. However, we were still holding out hope that the cyst would be gone and we could start Clomid and try IUI. I called the clinic that evening to set up an appointment for an ultrasound to check for the cyst the next morning.
I went in for the ultrasound feeling hopeful that the cyst would be gone. They seemed surprised when they orginally found it that I hadn’t had pain with it, and since I still didn’t have any significant pain, I figured it was gone! So, legs up, butt down, hello Mr. Happy Wand!
Right ovary first, looks good. There’s a second screen that faces the bed so I can see what the NP sees. She switches to look at the left ovary, and immediately my heart sinks. It’s bigger. I don’t even fully understand what I’m looking at but I can tell that compared to the right one, the left ovary is much larger, and mostly a different color. The NP’s face drops, she knows this wasn’t the news I was hoping for. It went from 2.75 to 3.7 cm. She told me I could get dressed and left to see if Dr. P was available to come talk to me.
Dr. P was on call and with another patient, so the NP told me that they would call me later with next steps, but that based on our conversation the day before, it would likely need to be surgery. I was devastated. This wasn’t part of the plan. Not that any of this was, not that I ever in a million years imagined we’d be unable to conceive naturally on our own, but we had come to terms with the idea of medication and insemination, but not surgery. Surgery that would cost a lot, and push back our first treatment cycle, when we’re already feeling the pressure of time for insurance reasons.
A lot of tears were shed that morning. I went home instead of going straight to work to talk to Kory and try to pull myself together, and I could tell he was disappointed too. Not in me, just in the entire situation. But he had a test to get ready for (interview process) and I had to get to work, so I dried my eyes and put on a smile. Now we just have to wait for the phone call from Dr. P to discuss surgery.
Well, Dr. P officially declared it: unexplained infertility. Based on our data and the time we’ve been trying, the likelihood of conceiving on our own is only 1-3%. That was a bummer to hear, but we tried to stay positive. She said that if I wasn’t pregnant, the recommended course of action at this point would be to start Clomid and try IUI, intrauterine insemination. This would increase our chances up to 10–15%. The only issue would be the cyst on my left ovary. If it was gone, or even the same size, then we could move forward. However, if it was bigger, then surgery would likely be required before we could start a treatment cycle, because treatment would likely make the cyst grow.
For those of you who don’t know, my birthday is coming up at the end of August, and at that point I will have to get off my parents insurance. They have been extremely generous in allowing me to stay on their plan, and it has great coverage for infertility treatments. I’ve met most if not all of the applicable deductibles, so we’ve been hoping that we could get pregnant before I turn 26 and we have to start a new insurance plan. The idea of adding surgery to the schedule really threw us for a loop, so we left the appointment nervous, but still hopeful that either A) I was pregnant! Or B) the cyst was gone.
That hope literally lasted about 15 minutes past the appointment, as I got my period soon after. However, we were still holding out hope that the cyst would be gone and we could start Clomid and try IUI. I called the clinic that evening to set up an appointment for an ultrasound to check for the cyst the next morning.
I went in for the ultrasound feeling hopeful that the cyst would be gone. They seemed surprised when they orginally found it that I hadn’t had pain with it, and since I still didn’t have any significant pain, I figured it was gone! So, legs up, butt down, hello Mr. Happy Wand!
Right ovary first, looks good. There’s a second screen that faces the bed so I can see what the NP sees. She switches to look at the left ovary, and immediately my heart sinks. It’s bigger. I don’t even fully understand what I’m looking at but I can tell that compared to the right one, the left ovary is much larger, and mostly a different color. The NP’s face drops, she knows this wasn’t the news I was hoping for. It went from 2.75 to 3.7 cm. She told me I could get dressed and left to see if Dr. P was available to come talk to me.
Dr. P was on call and with another patient, so the NP told me that they would call me later with next steps, but that based on our conversation the day before, it would likely need to be surgery. I was devastated. This wasn’t part of the plan. Not that any of this was, not that I ever in a million years imagined we’d be unable to conceive naturally on our own, but we had come to terms with the idea of medication and insemination, but not surgery. Surgery that would cost a lot, and push back our first treatment cycle, when we’re already feeling the pressure of time for insurance reasons.
A lot of tears were shed that morning. I went home instead of going straight to work to talk to Kory and try to pull myself together, and I could tell he was disappointed too. Not in me, just in the entire situation. But he had a test to get ready for (interview process) and I had to get to work, so I dried my eyes and put on a smile. Now we just have to wait for the phone call from Dr. P to discuss surgery.
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