I started my journey toward being a single mother by choice with fertility testing. I had taken a series of tests a week prior. I sat in my fertility doctor’s office waiting for my results. Every minute seemed like an hour. How long was it going to take her to get back to this office? I hate when doctors make you wait, especially when they have critical news. I knew I had set out to do this by myself, but at that moment I wished that I had asked someone to come with me. It would have been nice to hold someone’s hands, and share my feelings at that moment.
The door finally opened. She sat down with no emotion on her face, opened my file, and began to speak. “Your AMH is way under one. We should do the FSH and LH again. The results are inconclusive. You have fibroids. If you choose to go forward we need to use the full medication protocols to even have a chance of success.” I give you a 10% chance. Also you need to have a HSG (hysterosalpingogram),” she said.
“What is a HSG?” I asked thinking it couldn’t’t get any worse.
She said, “We put dye in your fallopian tubes and x-ray them to make sure they are open. If they are not open, then there is no reason to do an IUI at this point.”
I felt like I had just taken a shot with no chaser. Of course, I had picked a doctor with no bed side manner . My eyes glossed over, but I was determined that this woman was not going to witness me breaking down.
She stood up and said she was going to see when she could schedule the test. She came back in a few minutes and said there was an opening that day. She gave me a prescription to take an hour before the test.
I left her office to go to the hospital to have the test. The test would define my fate in this journey to motherhood. The results could mark the end before there was even a beginning.
I got in my car and began to sob. I knew this was not going to be easy, but I didn’t’t realize it would be this hard. I drove to a CVS near the hospital and called my aunt. I shared the news. She didn’t’t have many answers, but it was nice to have someone on the phone as I broke down waiting for my prescription.
Soon after, I reached the hospital, feeling like a hot mess warmed over, or in other words, horrible. I could tell that the woman taking my intake information felt bad for me. Not that I shared my problems, but it was clear that something was wrong. My eyes were red and I was still crying a little as I talked to her.
However, I pulled myself together as the test was being conducted. I tried to get the guy conducting the test to tell me if I passed. Of course I got the standard answer: “You need to talk to your doctor.”
I left the hospital knowing it was going to be a week of hell.
A week later, I arrived at her office early. Not that punctuality was going to change the results. I thought I would be able to see her earlier if I got there early. Well, that didn’t’t happen. She was running late and I ended up waiting a half an hour after my appointment.
Eventually, the door opened and the same emotionless robot sat in front of me. She opened my files and looked at a few pages.
“Well, you passed. We will proceed this month with your first IUI.”
I looked to the sky and said, “Amen!”