Avert Your Eyes--I'm Trying to Have a Baby!

So I mentioned in a previous post that I had surgery last month for fertility reasons. Basically, we've been trying to conceive for more than a year now, and despite tracking ovulation and timing things perfectly, no baby. We went through all the basic fertility testing with my ob/gyn but after all of that came back normal, she suggested that it was time to see a fertility specialist.

At my first consultation with Dr. "Baby Maker", he basically told me that while I may look twenty-five (flattery will get you everywhere doc), my eggs are 34 and we need to get a move on (ouch--so much for flattery). Anyway, the surgery was done to rule out any issues that may be hindering pregnancy (like adhesions, endometirosis, etc.). Turns out I didn't really have any major issues, so I guess that's good (or bad, depending on how you look at it--an explanation would be nice!).

Anyway, my main point in recounting all of this is to explain how strange it is to actually visit a fertility doctor (or, if we want to get technical, a reproductive endocrinologist). When you walk in the waiting room, no one really wants to make eye contact. I mean, the nurses and staff do, but all the patients in the room don't really look at each other. We all know we are there for one reason: we can't get pregnant! It's sort of embarrassing in a way. If you go to a different doctor, say an ob/gyn, you could be there for a myriad of reasons: annual pap, yeast infection, baby, etc. No one really knows why you are there. Not so at the fertility doctor. See, you spend all your time not wanting to talk about the struggles you are going through and sort of living that out in secrecy that when you see other people in the same boat, you want to stare! But you don't want to stare, so you sneak furtive glances out of the corners of your eyes. And you sort of want to check out what everyone looks like and figure out what their situation is. Turns out most fertility patients look pretty much like anyone else--nope, no distinguishing mark or a scarlet "I" on their chests for "infertility".

Oh, and I had the worst of all fertility patient experiences last week. I was coming into the doctor's office for an appointment when a co-worker and his wife were walking out. Horrors! The jig is up! We all sort of mumbled "hi" and "so great to see you" sorts of niceties, but let's be real. We were all really thinking about how the other one can't get pregnant and wondering what sort of treatment are they undergoing, etc. It's a very private thing, this infertility business, so it was sort of like standing naked in front of my co-worker. Ew.