In November of 2018 I went from working full time nightshift to per diem, thinking that getting on more of a normal schedule would help with our infertility struggles. And while it was nice to not being working 3 nights a week with an hour commute, it wasn’t the answer.
May of 2019 was our first IUI cycle. I thought, this is it! This is going to work. I did the clomid, and trigger shot and everything was looking good. We only had one or two good follicles, but you only need one, right? That cycle wasn’t successful. We hadn’t really felt like that clinic was the one for us, plus it was a significant drive, and if this was going to be a prolonged process we wanted to be closer to home.
-Actually… the morning of our first IUI, Levi gave me a blessing. And after the blessing I felt very strongly that if it didn’t work that we needed to switch clinics.
We got into see a new doctor at Northern California Fertility Medical Center in Sacramento, a much easier drive. We immediately felt more at ease with this doctor, he really made us feel like he was on our team. He was much more optimistic, but honest and realistic with us. He told me that yes, my low AMH levels were concerning. But it wasn’t the only factor to focus on. He kept telling me that my age was a big factor and that I was still young. Bless him.
To be honest, most of 2019 is a complete blur. My mom had been diagnosed with breast cancer in January and was in the thick of treatments all year. I know we did several IUIs. We started with Clomid, we moved to letrozole. We did low dose IVF drugs, and I was taking every kind of supplement I could find. But time after time we came up with a big fat negative.
I remember being in the waiting room at Stanford while my mom was having her lumpectomy, scrolling through instagram and seeing pregnancy announcements, and gender reveals and all sorts of baby news. Shortly after I deleted all of my social media. I was in a dark place. I knew in my heart that my mom was going to be okay. But we were in a really tough season. One of those seasons where the hits just keep on coming.
Staying Sane…or Trying To…
We did anything we could to keep ourselves busy. We landscaped our back yard, we spent many weekends wandering around Green Acres, we bought lots of plants.. some got planted…some didn’t…. I really enjoyed being outside gardening, even though I’m not very good at it, it was a great way to keep me occupied. It’s actually one of the five things I did to keep me sane during our struggle.
At the time it felt like time was just dragging. But looking back now, I can’t remember much of that year. That is probably a blessing. One thing I do remember is listening in on a phone conversation Levi was having with is dad in September. Levi had been working out of town since July, and they were talking about getting more work out of town. When he hung up the phone I told him that we were getting a dog. We had been talking about it for years, but there was always a reason not to. But he was going to be out of town for an extended time… I needed a dog.
Enter Yankee Doodle. Most people would tell you that I am ridiculous when it comes to this dog. He is absolutely spoiled, I know it. He goes everywhere with me, and I treat him like a human more often than not. But when I tell you that he saved me, I’m not lying. I really was in a dark place. I had never been depressed before, and I know it was more “situational depression” but I couldn’t pull myself out of it. Pets in general can have such a positive impact, but for us Yankee healed a lot of hurt in our hearts.