The End.

This morning I went to my third appointment regarding my stupid reproductive organs and the havoc they are wreaking often now.

The sad fact of the matter is that if I take birth control it will probably help a ton. I may have endometriosis and the only real way to tell is to have a minor, outpatient surgery. The doctor said it would be better to wait and do the surgery before I really wanted to try for another baby.

Sigh.

I really don't want to be on birth control. After all the time it took to get pregnant I don't want to close the door on the small, tiny little chance that I could just get knocked up by accident someday. We did really want three kids after all. I've been reading that the biggest regret women have later is that they didn't talk their husband into having that 2nd or 3rd or 10th baby that they really wanted. The sad part is that I wouldn't have to really talk my husband into it, he would love it! But I am infertile.

Infertility is defined as not achieving pregnancy after twelve months of well planned intercourse. I have birth control free for twelve months now. In all honesty, our sex has been either never planned or actually non-existent (I'm exhausted people, especially in the 4 months-10 months period). But that twelve month mark still bugs me so badly. I'm still infertile. I will not be that person who is fertile after IVF. I'm re-infertile. Another twelve months have passed.

There was a mirror in the room I was in and I caught a glimpse of myself. What I saw was Debbie Desperate. I just want to be normal with a normal chance of procreating like any normal, average individual. Here I am, nearly 5 years and 12 fertility treatments later, still trying to find what no one has found: a good reason for my infertility. Yes, I was diagnosed with PCOS but I ovulated with Clomid, injectibles and then on my own with Metformin and a good diet. Not a single one of my hormones are outside of normal range, even ones that should be from PCOS. Nothing is wrong with hubby. I am 27, 23 at the time of my first fertility appointment. It doesn't make sense and STILL I am trying to make sense of it.

Maybe this feels so bad all over again because I didn't grieve this situation for real. When I ran out of IUI's and came out of my haze we tried adopting. That didn't seem like it would work so we did IVF and I had a baby so I never shut the door on having babies again.

I could just do the surgery and then try on our own a few months, but I don't want to. I want it to be a non-part of our life. If it happens, it happens, if not, it doesn't. As long as I"m off birth control I can hold on to that little bit of hope and have no regrets. Birth control feels like I am admitting defeat and closing the door and I don't want to.

But I feel like a toddler who isn't getting their way. I"m not willing to do anything drastic about it (like "timed intercourse" or fertility treatments), but I'm also not willing to give up. Desperation. It's a yucky feeling. And truly, I only think about this when I'm thinking about it, if that makes sense. It doesn't consume me all the time like the old infertility did. The re-infertility makes me want to go to the doctor and find the answers and fix it but then I get lazy and just want to enjoy my two precious, hilarious, smart and exceptionally attractive children (ahem) and my life.

I got in the car and had a good cry. I think I will just get on birth control. That way I will close the door myself and it won't be lingering in the back of my mind. The end. That's it. I'm not going on this fool's errand anymore. I'm not going to miss work or be sick or unable to sleep at night for reproductive issues that will be helped by birth control or lupron (can't get preggo on that either and it makes a bitch crazy).

In theory. Wish me luck picking up my birth control tonight and not acting like a pansy.

Source: lesleyvmartinez.tumblr.com via Ashley on Pinterest