Here We Go Again . . . .

     Life is peculiar. My last post, I wrote about intense feelings and even (what I thought were) symptoms that I was pregnant. I was so, so, so sure! I let myself reach the height of jubilation and joy – I guestimated the due date, began picking out names, and I even called up my mom to share the news. I mean, I went all-out in truly thinking I was pregnant. Whole-hog. The whole enchilada. I don’t know how to explain it other than “feeling” pregnant. But, my body and mind fooled me and I am once again left empty-handed. Not to be too self-congratulatory, but I am not as devastated as I have been in the past. I’m mad at myself for a) letting myself truly believe that “this” time it was actually happening, I was pregnant and b) telling my mother. I regret telling my mom because I know she hurts and is disappointed almost as deeply as I am, when Aunt Flo finally arrives. I know that it is almost like opening old wounds for her, because of her own infertility struggles for 5 years, nearly 30 years ago. And she is so ready and so excited to be a grandmother. Just as I am jealous of friends who have babies, she is jealous of friends who have grandchildren. But, I guess to both of us, this time felt different. In fact, my mom almost bought diapers! She said they were on sale and she too felt, this must be IT! When I called my mom to report that my period arrived with a vengeance Wednesday morning, she simply said, “Shit!” It kind of sums up all this mess, really. I feel bad that she suffers along with me. I told my mom this whole thing is stupid, that I am adopting a baby and I really shouldn’t be worried about getting pregnant. My mom then revealed that she believes we “gave up” too easily and that there is so much more testing that can be done. My mom is friends with my nurse practitioner and she said she is very disappointed that they did not perform more testing, even before sending me to the infertility specialist. She told me to get my medical records from the infertility doctor, so she can show the doctor where she works and see what might have been missed. I called the office this morning and will be picking up the records on Thursday.     
     But, I keep having this feeling of what-the-heck-am-I-doing?!?! I thought I was done with all of this! I thought I had sufficiently driven out the idea of a biological child from my mind. I had given up on the possibility that by some miracle, Flaco and I would manage to conceive. I made peace with this whole new scenario. There would be no baby bump pictures, no how-did-we-tell-them stories, no hospital, no birthing classes, nothing like that. In place of ultra-sounds and doctor’s visits, we would be getting profiles of children and a house inspection. But, in the end, the most important thing would be the same – we would have a baby. Now? I feel guilty. I feel guilty for considering another round of testing for infertility issues, for meeting with a different doctor. I feel like we are letting down the child who is out there somewhere waiting for us to adopt him or her. And I feel confused. I don’t know how to have hope and yet still be ok with reality. I don’t know how to think I might get pregnant each month and not be utterly devastated when I am not every time. I just don’t know how to strike this balance. I stopped taking the Metformin. I stopped taking the pre-natal vitamins. I stopped worrying about how much caffeine I was drinking or if I wanted a Corona or two with Flaco. I stopped tracking the “fertile” days of my cycle. None of these things mattered if we were adopting. Getting Flaco on board for adopting was nothing short of a miracle itself. I haven’t let Flaco know that I might be seeing yet another doctor for infertility assistance. I don’t know how he will feel about it. Flaco does seem to be on Team Mom though; he told me the other week that he still believes it will be possible for us to have a biological child. This statement floored me because I feel like Flaco was the first one to give up on us ever conceiving a child. Now, he thinks it will happen that elusive “someday.” Just when I think I have it all figured out, this whole issue comes roaring back to life!      
     So, what do I do? We do have some time and money invested in the adoption process. And this feels like more of a sure thing to me. Flaco and I are good people, I don’t see a reason why CHOR wouldn’t want to give us a baby. Yet, there is that teeny, tiny little part of me that would truly love to have the whole experience of conception to birth; to have a baby that will resemble his/her mommy and daddy, to see the beauty we can create. At this present moment, we will continue with the adoption classes. The next one is September 10th. I will get my records and pass them along to my mom, who will pass them along to one of the doctors where she works. I’m sure he will want me back on the Metformin and pre-natal vitamins. I’m not sure what other tests there are that can be done, but a fellow PCOS infertility sister told me that in order to truly diagnosis PCOS the doctor would need to do tests on my liver enzymes. I don’t know if this was done. I do know that my father is missing a liver enzyme that his body needs to break down alcohol and he can’t drink because the alcohol goes right into his blood stream and makes him itch like mad, sometimes he even breaks out in hives. I know this happens to me too, although not quite to the extent of my father’s reaction. I know that the doctor told me he saw cysts on my ovaries and that my fasting glucose levels were a little high. I know that I should lose weight, which might help the process. I have conflicting reports from the tests on my tubes – the doctor who performed the test said the tubes were blocked, but he opened them. The nurse from the infertility office who called me to report the results of the test told me everything looked fine with my tubes, no lesions or blockage. According to the tests done, Flaco’s little spermies are ok, not all-star Olympic athletes, but good enough to get the job done. He had no issues to contribute to the infertility debacle. And that is it! That is the extent of what we know, really. I don’t know what the doctor might decide to do with this information. My mom thinks he might do some kind of test that involves scraping out my uterus  - which sounds like loads of fun! I guess I won’t know until I get there – IF we decide to go down that road again. At this point, I simply don’t know. I hope and pray we can make a wise decision. . . . .