Thursday, June 26, 2014

unexplained infertility

Thanks to taking time off from work to recover from my surgery, I've had more than usual time to think about and process the surgery. And the phrase I keep coming back to is this one: "unexplained infertility."

More specifically, what I'm thinking about is this: after the surgery, Dr. S told my dh that we're basically at the end of napro options, given what we've done so far and given that no test has shown anything abnormal. We're going to meet with her on Tuesday, so maybe she'll elaborate more, but I get what she's saying. From reading other people's blogs, I'm aware that napro has more to offer than what we've done, but that "more" seems to be drugs that help conditions I don't have or tests to explore abnormalities detectable by symptoms I don't have. (Of course, I'm all ears if someone has a suggestion based on our medical history.)

Dr. S summed it up like this: either we're perfectly healthy and just quite unlucky (quite!), or there's something wrong with us that can't yet be detected by the current state of reproductive science. Neither of those premises is very comforting.

In other words, unexplained infertility.

I think Timothy O'Malley put it best in his beautiful essay "Waiting for Gabriel: Learning to Pray Through Infertility":

"Month one passed.   Month two passed.  Month three passed.  Six months later, our home became the anti-Nazareth, as we awaited an annunciation that never came.  The hope-filled decision to conceive a child became a bitter task of disheartened waiting.  After a year, we began to see a barrage of infertility specialists, who based upon test results, concluded that we should be able to have a child.  No low sperm counts.  No problem with reproductive systems.  All in working order.  The verdict:  inexplicable infertility.
"Unexplained infertility is a surprisingly miserable diagnosis.   Something about my psyche was prepared for a scientific explanation.  One in which the very fine doctors with advanced degrees from Ivy League institutions acknowledged that unless an act of God intervened, no human life would emerge from intercourse between Kara and me.   Indeed, a fair number of tears would have been shed on both of our parts.  But with the diagnosis of unexplained infertility, conception is scientifically possible.  With every slight change in Kara’s monthly cycle, a glimmer of hope rises in our hearts, only to be dashed with the arrival of menstruation.  Kind-hearted family, friends, and colleagues, who learn about our infertility, share stories about a mother or sister, who finally became pregnant.  They recommend “doctors”, who have a proven track record of curing infertility.  But unfortunate for us, we have no way of knowing if we will one day join the ranks of the middle-aged first-time parent.  And every trip to a doctor is a risk, because once again, we start to hope.  Aware now, of course, that hope alone does not fill one’s home with children."
"A surprisingly miserable diagnosis" pretty much hits in on the head. Surprising, because nothing is wrong with you. Miserable, because of course something is. It is not normal to make love to your husband for three years - on the "right" days, I might add - and never even need to take a pregnancy test because AF always arrives right on time. It is not normal to go even 6 months of "fertility-focused intercourse" and still be un-pregnant. "Not normal" usually means in the health context a disease. But no disease has been found. "All in working order."
I would add to O'Malley's description that unexplained infertility is enough to drive you batty.
Something must be wrong. But it's undetectable, like a parasite or something horribly icky that steals your life without you even being aware of its presence. 
If nothing is wrong with our bodies, then what? Is it diet? Is our timing just less-than-perfect enough to "miss" every month? Do we not exercise enough? (I know the answer to that one!) Are we "doing it" wrong? The huge non-answer of unexplained infertility opens up like a black hole of a million other non-answers, unanswerable questions that are enough to keep me up at night (literally).
At the end of the day, it comes down to control. (Doesn't everything?) I want to have a problem with my body that can be fixed. Not an unfixable problem, mind you. That's a whole 'nother kettle of fish and I can't claim one second to know what that would feel like. Just a nice manageable textbook problem that doctors can fix right up so we're good as gold. Living in what feels like a perpetual state of uncertainty and the unknown makes me anxious, makes me feel somewhat ashamed (I can't get pregnant and I don't even know why? double whammy), and most of all makes me feel completely out of control. I can't find or even start to guess what the perfect pill, potion, food, diet, fad, activity, would even be. I feel stuck in the dark.
That's enough for now. Sorry for the wet blanket. I'm going to go rejoin my husband and watch the World Cup and try for the millionth trillionth time to give it to God.
St. Anne, pray for us. St. Jude, pray for us.
+EcceFiat+ 

14 comments:

  1. My heart has been aching for you. I wish I had words, but I don't.

    My only thoughts/suggestions would be to investigate other hormones (and please forgive me if you've already done this): prolactin, thyroid, adrenals and all of the like, as well as clotting and immune factors. Perhaps also pursuing a post-coital assessment to see if your CM and Mr. M's SF are cooperating together.

    My prayers are with you my sweet friend, I wish I could give you a great big hug. If you need to talk, I'll be driving from 3:30 - 6:30 this afternoon and my blue-tooth is fully charged. Please please call if you want! (And no pressure if you don't.)

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    1. Thanks, Rebecca =) I'll keep your suggestions in mind for my post-op appt. We have already tested prolactin and thyroid (although maybe there are other tests?)

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  2. I'm so sorry! It sucks not to have answers.

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  3. How difficult to hear that there is nothing left to do! I remember when DM and I left the hospital the last time seeing that again it was a LUF. No matter how much hope they had for my overall chances of fertility there was nothing else we could do or fix. It was a very bittersweet moment. More bitter than sweet. Sweet in the fact that I can now officially say I have done all I could so that pressure to keep doing stressful test was now over, but bitter in how you explained above. There was nothing I could do or know how to do to make things work. I had no control. It is painful in having to give up the fight.

    Sorry they could not find an answer. We are sending hugs!

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    1. Bittersweet is a good way to put it. It does lessen the pressure to have a lot of tests behind you - I'm grateful I won't have to go through surgery again! But it just feels so helpless, not having an answer.

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  4. No apologizing for being a wet blanket because you aren't. You're being honest and that's not always pretty. I'm trying to learn how to avoid the urge to apologize for my thoughts and feelings about my own journey through blogging. It's mostly just led to a lot of cringing on my part, but I do feel a little less angsty since I started.

    Not having answers is really frustrating. I'm sorry you're in this place and I'm praying for you here daily in my novena to the two hearts...

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    1. Thanks =) I hate feeling like a debbie downer, but you're right, sometimes the honest reality is a HARD one! Thanks so much for your novena prayers.

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    2. You're very welcome. Hugs and hope you enjoy the holiday weekend!

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  5. This must be so so so discouraging! :( IF is tough enough when you have an idea of the reasons why, let alone when there seems to be no cause. Praying for some peace in the midst of all this. I know she conceived in the end, but the author of "My Sister's The Saints" wrote about her unexplained infertility in the book.

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  6. I wish I had words to give you comfort... I feel like this diagnosis is the hardest of them. I will continue to keep you both in prayer.... hugs!!

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  7. (((Hugs))) I am so sorry for this :(. Know that you and Mr. M will be in my prayers. Have you done genetic testing yet? Our NaPro Dr. suggested it because of our lack of conceiving since our miscarriage and the ovarian wedge resection more than a year ago and ou hormones being completely normal now. We haven't done it yet but we are curious to know if we have a genetic defect our an immune disorder just so we have that info. Sending lots of love and prayers dear friend!

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  8. I'm so sorry. :( Having no answers to your IF is worse than having a really bad diagnosis, I'm thinking. I have no good advice. I'm just here for support if ya need me. Hugs and prayers, my friend.

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  9. There are no words I can share to make you feel better, because you have every right to feel the way you do about what medicine is revealing to you currently, and God doesn't reveal everything all at once either! I pray that you are able to continue to give it to God, but I've been struggling with that lately and know it's not easy to do. Hugs.

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