I have not talked too much about it, out of fear it will never happen, but we are trying for a little Tuggle. It has already been a struggle, but I know there are many out there who are facing the same struggle- we just don't talk about it!
With all the "Mommy Blogs" out there is it is difficult to keep heart while going through this. Somehow, it is just not a topic that proper ladies talk about. For anyone who is squeamish, stop reading now! Seriously. I am not going to write in euphemisms. Sure, after it has been accomplished everyone talks about those nine months. So for all of you out there who are fighting the fight, here is our journey....
When I was nineteen I was diagnosed with PCOS. At that time a baby was the furthest thing from my mind- I was not even at the "preventing" stage of life and took it in stride. My mother had something similar and had three (fairly) healthy babies. However, about six months ago we stopped all forms of protection and had not been overly cautious for about a year- and nothing was happening.
When it was time to seriously start trying I had not had a cycle in almost a year and I knew it was time to find out why. As expected, my PCOS was out of control. I had also added a few new problems over the years. So, we went the least invasive rout first. Three rounds of Clomid were prescribed and I hoped this would be it.
First round went ok for the first 20 days. I responded to the lowest dose and expected to either conceive or finish the cycle and start a new one. As always, I am high maintenance and it did not work that way. About 30 days in my hormones and emotions were so wonky I hardly crawled out of bed. There was a mild steady pain from that point on. Yesterday I went in to see if my Fallopian tubes were blocked. But, you say, those are way up inside! Yes, yes they are. By the time this is all over I am sure I will be comfortable enough with dropping my pants to be a porn star. I have already dropped them for at least 8 people, and I am certain that number will keep growing.
I expected life to keep going on as it always had through all of this, but there is something about planning for new life that shakes your entire world up. Not being able to initially felt like a failure. Growing up in a staunchly Christian atmosphere many of my friends and roommates are on their 2nd or 3rd babies. There are passages of scripture about the redemption of woman coming through childbirth, and even with leaving the fold I felt like half of a woman. I have a wonderful husband who has been supportive, but in the past, I dated men who would have packed up and left if I was infertile. I had been left before when I told my boyfriends that children might not be part of the deal. I began to fear that the same might happen now and tried to deal with everything on my own and shoulder all of the emotions by myself. This is why I think it is important to talk about it.
Thus far, the journey hasn't been pretty. It isn't like pregnancy where you can dress it up in pink and blue and have the lofty title of mommy. You get to have the label of "infertile" and have gigantic catheters shoved into your vagina. So this brings me to yesterday.
I finished my procedure and uncomfortably sat up on the table. The doctor was astonished that I went through the whole thing silently. Apparently some women are not even able to finish the procedure and ask to quit. I have always seen myself as incredibly weak, so hearing the doctors astonishment over my silent endurance of the whole thing was affirming. A sliver of my bravado shield melted away. Even if I have a long way to go, I accomplished something. I braved the unknown and terrifying and did it with grace. My husband was waiting for me. I came home to be waited on hand and foot. After all the slimeball boyfriends who ran when things got tough, the difficult few years I have have recently faced, and the changes I have gone through since being married, I am married to one of the good ones, and no matter what we face to get there, I am certain our children are going to have parents who love them and each other. I usually hate a nice happy ending that ties everything up, but here you have it. Anastasia Tuggle is admitting to a happy ending. I can't find a single negative thing to say for the first time in my life. This is the first step to cultivating joy. It felt so final to walk out of that hospital. The day in itself was really quite trivial, but it meant so much to me. Here is to the rest of the journey....
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