An experience in humiliation... that's what this will be.
... OK. Here goes.
There's a new NaPro Dr at one of my facilities. We have been blessed to "hit it off" immediately, and about 2 months into our work/friend relationship I discovered she had been reading my blog for years. Ha! In either event, I offered to help her train to do the NaPro ultrasound series, the way PPVI and our Center does it (veeeeeery particularly) on me as a test patient. As it turned out, she got back from her 2nd education phase at PPVI just in time for my baseline. And so, we started. Last week.
I told myself that this would be easy. It was purely for medical training purposes. I was far-enough removed from infertility testing and treatment cycles to let this actually "matter" to me. I didn't even bring my chart in, because, well, I'm not charting.
Turns out... it wasn't as easy as I thought it would be.
After the baseline ultrasound, the remainder of the day I was incredibly PMSey. I mean, clearly I wasn't PMSing on cycle day 7, but that's how I felt. I was irritable, mildly depressed, and just generally pissy. Lovely combination, really. But I had no idea why.
Poor Leila happened to send me an email right around that time, with information about St Colette. It was a witness story of a woman's prayers being answered for conception through the intercession of St Colette. That email came at the WRONG time. I believe I responded with something along the lines of, "Oh, thanks. That's nice. I'm so glad her prayers for ANOTHER child were answered. But her story is nothing like mine, and there is no miracle in store for me. Thanks again."
(I had to go back and apologize the next day, I felt so awful.)
It was probably the evening of the baseline, or even the next day, when my husband and I finally pinpointed the source of my craziness. The transvaginal ultrasound.
As gentle as the technique is, it is still an "invasive" procedure. And while my body and mind were totally ok with it... clearly my emotions were not. It brought up a host of pent up and buried feelings from the past, all the failed treatment cycles, all the previous ultrasounds, all the medications, procedures, all the anger, frustration, jealousy, bitterness, and unbelievably suffocating sadness.
By the time we were supposed to do the next ultrasound, I knew I had to just suck it up and go on with the show. "It will be over soon enough," I told myself. This was for a good purpose.
I tried to separate myself from whatever the results would be, telling myself that this was only cycle day 13, and while not actively charting, my husband and I had been keeping track of my Peak Day (or as close to it as possibly) in order to not expect my period too soon. As my Dr had forewarned, after being off all medications including progesterone, my cycle lengths would likely get longer and my Peak Days later. They've been closer to cycle day 18-20.
The next ultrasound (cycle day 13) showed an already-mature follicle. It showed a cervix wiiiiiiide open with the presence of cervical mucus. It showed a beautifully thick endometrium. Great. I hadn't wanted to know any of that. This was starting to mess with my head.
The next morning, I awoke to slightly tender breasts. Hmmmmm? Cycle day 14? Really??
Sure enough, that ultrasound showed that I had just ovulated. On Cycle Day 14.
I was so elated with the fact that my body has started to normalize, after only two months of a strict Paleo diet, that I texted friends, and celebrated with the Mr. (You know what I mean.) Wow, a day 14 ovulation, normal as could be!
But there was something else looming in the back of my mind. Not a huge thing, but worth mentioning. When the Dr input my last menstrual period (4-20) into the computer, the Estimated Due Date (if, in theory, I were to get pregnant) popped up as 1-25-2013. I immediately remembered the meaning of January 25th, a tiny sign from years ago that always stuck with me. It wasn't huge. Just a "huh" moment, really.
A few short hours later, I received a text message. A text message that freaked. me. out. It came from a charting client of mine, whom I very rarely see, but who has been a source of inspiration to me when I need it most.
I feel something in the Spirit for you... a change in your body function, hormones, or something. It may be a perfect time to "try." It is a season for you. A balance of some kind. Can't quite make sense of it, but take it for what it's worth, but I feel that it is safe to believe in the Lord for a family. He will not ever fail you, even though you may feel like it at times. Listen, before you get intimate with your hubby, do this: Pray together... even if he doesn't believe, say this: "Lord, we've trusted you with material things, tonight we are trusting you with our bodies. We place them and all their functioning in your hands and we trust you with our future child/children. We surrender control tonight and thank you for our coming blessings... in Jesus' name, Amen." Something like that... lemme know how ya are soon. Much love and blessings to you both.
Suddenly it was all coming together. My Patron Saint's Feast Day, early in my cycle. St Gianna's Feast Day. January 25th. The texts and emails I've received from SEVERAL blogger friends this cycle, epxressing their thoughts and prayers for me out of nowhere, since I had not written or talked about my "cycle" on my blog in a long time.
No matter what this meant... I knew one thing. God wanted me to hope. It seems like every time I give up and surrender the hope for a baby, He just will not allow it. And this time, He was adamant.
I decided to email Leila and ask for help. WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS?!?!?!?!?! I feel like an absolute IDIOT asking for prayers... particularly because I know just how embarrassed I'm going to feel in two weeks when I have to come on here and announce that I got my period. Again. How could I possibly, after 6 years, expect anything to be different? How could I so boldly ask all of you to pray for me, as if I'm so important, and my "getting pregnant" deserves an army of prayer warriors?!?!?! Who the heck do I think I am???
But the drive was still there. I knew I had to do it. I just had to ask.
While frantically deciding, "Well... what are we going to ask people to pray??!! A rosary?? A Novena to some Saint? Which Saint?!?! There are too many!!!"...
And like a slap upside the back of the head, I knew. St. Colette. The same Saint whose intercession I had all but mocked only a week ago. It had to be St. Colette.
Leila was on it like white on rice, and I do believe it was about 8 seconds later she had already published the blog post :)
Honestly, I still feel completely embarrassed doing this. I just kept thinking of my therapist (you'll appreciate this, FJIEJ) echoing, "Say YES to the humiliation!!" Hahaha. Alrighty then. Yes, humiliation. Do your worst.
Thank you, THANK YOU, for your prayers. I promise to return each and every last one of them for your intentions.