This is part three of six posts on our Infertility Journey. To read all six posts, click here. Posts are in reverse chronological order, so you'll want to start reading at the bottom of that page. :)
I found the written notes I'd made for this "series"! I thought they were only on the now-dead laptop, but in cleaning out my church bag, I found 7 pages of scribbled notes - and phew, did I scribble! There are sentences written in teeny spaces (because I wrote from edge to edge, so there were no margins in which to write). Now I can pick up where I left off.
After receiving the recommendation to move to injectibles (basically, Perganol) or have surgery, I started doing research and praying. I'd met a girl via an online Hallmark message board who had the same issue I had and she'd recently had a baby after having the same surgery my RE was recommending. I talked with Lezlee several times - we had many email and phone conversations. She was always very open and honest about her experience. She also cautioned me about the possible side effects because she was experiencing the most significant one - within a few months of having her son, she was in full-blown menopause from the destruction of too much ovarian tissue. Brad and I talked for a long time about the options we were facing. I was concerned about the injectibles - not so much the cost as the side effects (the McCaughey septuplets were just a few years old and still occasionally in the news at the time). We met with our RE again so I could ask him some questions about what we'd do in case of hyper-stimulation. He responded "We would abort the cycle." (don't see abort here and panic, okay? :)) What they do with injectibles is perform an ultrasound every day to see how the follicles are progressing. Once they measure correctly, a shot is given to encourage the follicles to release their eggs (called a trigger shot). If there are too many follicles present, then they would not give the trigger shot - which aborts (ends) the cycle. I said, "Okay, you're telling me I'll spend $1,000 for shots; deal with the pain of the shots; come in every day for an ultrasound (and the charge for that) - and then you might not give me a trigger shot? Um, no. There's no way I'm doing that!" I didn't think that was being a wise steward of our money. Brad had already told me he didn't want me to have surgery - so we decided to think, pray and wait a little while longer to make a final decision.
I started researching ovarian drilling more and more after our conversation with Dr. Moutos (who wasn't at this particular clinic by the way - he was still at UAMS then). The more I researched and the more I talked with Lezlee, the more I became convinced that I needed to appeal to Brad to reconsider. The ovulation results were incredible and so were the pregnancy rates. Brad's concern was my response to anesthesia but was willing to reconsider if I could arrange for a friend of ours to be my anesthesiologist. Since my aunt makes that schedule, I knew that wouldn't be a problem!
So, we saw my RE again in early February 2001 - ready to commit to the surgery. He did some more blood work and told me when during my cycle we'd need to schedule the procedure. He also very sweetly reminded me that the goal of the surgery was ovulation - not pregnancy. Fair enough, and duly noted. We scheduled the surgery for later that month.
The procedure went well, recovery from anesthesia was a whole 'nother story. I shut down two post-anesthesia recovery units and ended up in the main recovery room before finally waking up, keeping ice down and being allowed to go home.
Ten days post-op, we knew the procedure was successful. For the first time since my purchase of a Fertility Monitor three years before, I actually saw "peak". I'd never seen that before. I was so excited, I was squealing! Pregnancy couldn't be too far away! I was actually ovulating - I'd never done that before and certainly never on my own! Despite Dr. Moutos' reminder "ovulation is the goal, not pregnancy" - pregnancy was still my goal. And as far as I was concerned, we were all but there. The one thing we'd always needed to happen and had been missing was now happening. Bring on the maternity clothes. Or so I thought.
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