I had been seen at Stanford the previous fall for an abnormal pap. So I messaged the doc I had seen there and she immediately recommended we talk to the fertility clinic. We were able to get in to see them in August, and we were excited to be moving forward. I didn’t know how quickly we’d be swept up trying to figure out how to survive infertility.
At the same time we had found a house, and we were going through the process of putting an offer in and all the craziness that goes into buying a house. But I could see us raising our family in that house, and it felt like things were turning around. The whole “if you build it they will come” theory.
Getting our fertility diagnosis
I will never forget the phone call from the Fellow at the clinic. (A Fellow is a doctor who is going through extra training in a specific field after being a resident). We were at the title company signing the papers for our house… All 5 billion of them. I stepped out to take her call, and Levi could see my face fall as she told me “We have a chronological age and a biological age… chronologically you are 30… biologically, well… you’re a lot older than that”. Thanks doc.
She basically told me that I was running out of time and even then our chances were pretty slim. I felt like my world was crashing down around me. My AMH level (anti-mullerian hormone) was REALLY low. This is a level they use to look at the quantity of eggs you have left. So I was running out of eggs. She also said that as the quantity of eggs decreases, the quality also decreases, lowering our chances even further of getting pregnant and having a healthy baby.
About two weeks later we had a Skype call with the attending physician who tried to recover from the way her fellow had delivered my news. We came up with a plan. Lots of ovulation kits and timing. She didn’t recommend starting any medications or doing any other kind of treatment yet.
It felt like everyone around me was getting pregnant, and I was stuck. Wanting it to happen so bad, and nothing. Praying, and praying and praying. Pouring my heart out, and nothing. It was so incredibly isolating. I shut down.
Looking back I wish we had someone who could help us navigate and survive infertility. It feels a lot like getting thrown into the deep end and trying to learn how to swim…we were just trying to keep our heads above water.