D-Day

**Disclaimer: today's post includes a medical discussion of our infertility issues. Words such as "endometrium" and "uterine" are included in the text below. Proceed with caution. Especially if you belong to the male species. You may choose to skip this post today and instead proceed to this exceedingly long continuation of our boy-meets-girl saga.**



Well Friday was D-Day. D for diagnosis. The day I went back to our IF specialist (technically called a reproductive endocrinologst or RE) to find out the results of the tests we've had done over the past two weeks. And hopefully to find out why we aren't getting pregnant and what we can do to change that.

Here's what we learned: the problems are all on my end, which is good because about a third of infertile couples are dealing with both female and male infertility issues. But they are a less than cut and dry. There's definitely something up with my uterine lining that's making it too thick. It could be a cyst, a polyp or a number of other things. And there is a 70-80% chance that I have endometriosis. Both of these things are treatable; the lining issue with a very minor surgical procedure and the endometriosis with a slightly more invasive but still relatively minor procedure. I also have polycystic ovaries, but NOT polycystic ovary syndrome (where a host of hormone issues are added to the polycystic ovaries; all my hormone levels are good). That's the good news.

The bad news is there's really no way to know if any of those things or a combination of them are what is causing our infertility or if treating them will cure it. My doctor quoted one study in which women with endometriosis were twice as likely to get pregnant after treatment. But the actual numbers went from 3-4% without treatment to about 6% after treatment. So, as she put it, "really low to still pretty low." It's kind of a crapshoot.

Basically, we have some options and some reason to hope there is still pregnancy in our future, but no promises.

No medical promises anyway. Friday was a little bit emotional, but I wasn't too discouraged. I know there is a plan for us and this is just one more step on the journey we're taking. And I know I'm going to be a mom at some point. How and when is the mystery.

So how do I feel after all that medical stuff? I'm not sure. Still hopeful, still peaceful and still believing there is something great for us down the road. But I HATE making decisions like this! I mean, I'd rather NOT go through surgery, but I'd really like to increase our chances of getting pregnant. I'd rather NOT deal with the short-term discomfort but it'll be totally worth it for the result if it works. I'd rather NOT pay for all this stuff if it's not going to be successful! We could use that money for our adoption if we choose to build our family that way.

These are the life decisions that are so difficult. I mean, sometimes when you consider God's plan for your life and wonder what He'd have you do, it's pretty obvious (Should I or should I not become a prostitute? for example or Should Jamie become a drug dealer to supplement our income?). But there's no right or wrong here. I fully believe whatever we decide is ok with my Heavenly Father and He'll still be in control either way. I don't believe God sits up in Heaven waiting for us to make the wrong choice so He can strike us down. But still I wish there was a way just to know for sure the best, least painful choice!

Of course, if we do decide to go the surgical route I'll get a whole week of being waited on by my husband (the RE said a 5-7 day recovery, and I will be taking 7 thank you very much). And hopefully as much ice cream as I can eat. Nothing can be all bad if it involves ice cream...