Ovulation and PCOS

Shockingly enough, it’s possible without drugs!
I started my weight loss journey March 8th. It is now April 30th. I am down 28 pounds which is amazing for me. If you recall from my previous post, we took a much-needed fertility break because I just felt the timing was very bad. So, I have been going to the doctor every 30 days. Last month I went the day before my dad passed to find out I wasn’t pregnant and to let the doctor know that I was not going to actively pursue fertility treatments for a few months. He agreed and added that we would be using no medications. This was to see if my body was going to cooperate and work on its own.
As luck would have it, I ovulated. On my own! Now the problem is that we aren’t exactly sure when that happened. I was waiting for “the feeling” of ovulation. I thought I got that a few days after I normally did when everything is medically induced. HOWEVER, I think that was incorrect. The week AFTER, I had all the normal symptoms of ovulation…including EWCM. I actually texted Candi while she was at a baseball game to make sure it was possible that I could have ovulated and had this disgusting mucus.

Here I sit now, 7 days late for my period. I went in on the 23rd to the fertility doctors office to get my blood and ultrasound. At that moment, I would have been 5 days past ovulation if I actually ovulated that late. The test came back negative. No biggie because I am still not sure I could handle that and still grieving and everything else. I do, however, have a small voice in the back of my mind (and Candi’s voice in my ear) saying it’s still possible. I go back to the clinic tomorrow for another ultrasound and blood test. The doctor told me I should be starting anytime but I can’t wait for it to happen naturally at this point. I have been a raging bitch for the last 5 days. Not to mention extremely emotional. I have no other symptoms…so I have no idea what is going on but I will find out tomorrow if I don’t start before then.

This is just a small glimmer of hope to you ladies out there with PCOS. I know not everyone has a weight problem and I don’t believe this is all because of my weight. I am so much healthier now because of the products I use. I have energy, I get off the couch and run or walk, I play with my dogs outside rather than let them out and call them back in. I truly believe that with the right nutrition and healthy living you can reverse the effects of PCOS. I am trying my damnedest. My doctor said he was stunned that I had lost so much weight and that I ovulated on my own. Maybe this will mean I don’t have to spend every last dime on treatments anymore.

Keep up the good thoughts everyone. I am thinking about you always! Baby dust to everyone that wants it!

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Give me the chocolate and I will only slightly harm you.

A normal woman has her monthly “visit” every 28-30 days, give or take a few days.  I don’t unless it’s medically induced. That’s the wonderful part of having PCOS (please read that as sarcastically as you choose.)  I don’t remember exactly how old I was when I “started” but I think I was 11 or 12.  From the jump it was never normal.  I never knew when it was coming.  I lived in fear from the time I was 8 years old when my mother explained what she used those sticky pieces of paper for.  I would go to the bathroom in 2nd grade and check every day because I was petrified I would have blood coming from an unholy place and then I would have a baby.  I don’t know how I missed that middle step of what makes a baby.  I think my mom left that part out.  I do, however, remember being at my grandma’s house one hot summer day getting ready to go to my father’s house in a cute little outfit of white shorts and a tank top.  I got out of the lake after swimming and when I went to change I saw red…literally.  I figured then life was over.

Here I am, 16 years later…it pains me to say that by the way…wishing I had a normal, reliable, regular cycle.  It may make this baby thing a bit easier.  The thought never entered my mind that being so screwed up in the reproductive area would result in difficulty conceiving a baby.  Since we began our journey of trying to get pregnant, my doctors have tried everything from Clomid and Provera to what we are doing now which is just Letrozole (Femara) every month and then my cycle restarts like clock work if I am not pregnant.  It is not, however, the same every month.  I don’t know how many women are going through what I am going to explain but if there is just 1 person out there then I know I am not just nuts.
(This is where, if you are my brother, you stop reading unless you already have and then if your wife is reading this you should gross him out with all of the gross details because I like to watch him squirm.)

Ever since losing the baby in June I have had ridiculously odd flows.  I went from having a d&c to not bleeding much afterwards which the doctor told me was weird.  He put me on birth control to keep my cycles coming in normal fashion.  Once that started I again had really light periods.  Then 2 months later I believe, it was like Hiroshima hit my pants.  I woke up one morning covered in blood.  I honestly thought I was hemorrhaging.  That was when the life altering, doubling over in pain cramps started.  I figured maybe I would have one bad one then I would be ok.  Boy was I wrong!  They seem to go in their own little circle of hell.  I have a really light one then a horrible one then a “normal” one.  Life still revolves around my uterus even when I am not trying to fill it with life.  I carry ample protection.  When I cleaned out my purse today I counted 6 pads and 3 tampons.  That’s not normal either but I really don’t know what to expect from one moment to another.

This month when I found out I wasn’t pregnant but my uterine lining was really thick according to the ultrasound, I figured it would be ugly.  Like the nastiest fight scene in 300 and it would last for what seemed like an eternity and I would be a millionaire after my husband bought stock in Kotex.  Again I was wrong.  I have no clue what is going on in there but I will tell you that it is complete and utter BS.  My uterus is a bitch.  Not only do I feel like I didn’t get a good flush and fill but I feel like I got screwed for December.  I am concerned that because it’s not all out of there I will have no luck trying this month and I will have the worst cycle on Christmas.  Merry freakin’ Christmas baby, you aren’t gettin’ any.
I have talked about this with my fertility doctor.  He has a penis.  He only looks at vagina.  He thinks I am insane.  I think he is an ass…sometimes.  I think it may be time to revisit the subject with him but it concerns me that he will want to do another biopsy on my uterus.  If you have had one of those done, you know why I have a severe panic attack at even the mere thought of that procedure.  It feels like a red-hot poker stabbing you in your most precious of areas and then radiating pain all the way into your chest cavity.  This all happens in about 4 seconds but it’s enough to make you want to kick the doctor in the face while simultaneously vomiting on the person holding your hand.
So, we are back to square one.  We decided to go ahead with trying again this month with just the pills again.  January 1st our medical stuff restarts and we will be able to actually “afford” treatments…the ones that will probably land me in jail because I will become a raging lunatic on hormone shots every day for a month.

Anyway, that is my rant about my monthly.  As every other woman in the world does, I hate it.  I wish I could pull a Michelle Duggar and just keep on poppin’ out the babies and get TLC to follow me with a camera to show how amazing I am at being a mother to my 19 kids and counting…but I got screwed by genetics or probably by my fat.  Today I blame my fat.  I leave you with this amazing image.  It describes exactly what my house is like for approximately 3-7 days a month every month until I get so lucky as to get pregnant and STAY pregnant.  And then I will just keep on making that happen because I would rather push a watermelon through a tiny hole than bleed every month.  It’s late, I’m rambling, Good night.