I've had cysts on my ovaries (PCOS) for years, which were initially discovered upon diagnosing my cervical cancer the first time. So, I expect to hear about cyst size, number, all that, each time I have an ultrasound. The only real concern its caused is the lack of ability to ovulate. Other than that, my ovaries work fine. LOL. Nothing was any different today. The cysts were all still there, though fewer in number and somewhat smaller than my fresh cycle back in March. My ovaries looked like they were "good sized", whatever that means, and no one was up in arms about anything going on in there. Awesome.
We moved on to checking out my uterus. The tech and the doctor like to see a nice, thick lining, at least an 8mm, before a transfer. That uterine lining will help create a nice, homey environment for our little embabies. The thicker the lining, the better chance we have that the embryos will stick and make themselves at home for the next 40 weeks or so. Now, I'm notorious for having a thin uterine lining. I know this. No secret there. I never needed an ultrasound to tell me that. All through college, my roommate used to gripe about how I had no PMS, the shortest period in the world at 2-3 days, and didn't have to buy tampons but every 3 months. Ha! But the downside to avoiding the hormonal anarchy of a heavy period? No naturally sticky place for my little fertilized egglets to make their home! Boooooooooo.
Looking at the giant screen (aka "the Megatron), I could see the three gorgeous rings (layers of of the lining of my uterus. *insert angelic song here* Its taken three months of drugs, a drastic change in diet, and quite a few prayers to get those rings! Yaaaay! We're ready to roll, yes? No. While my lining had managed to work itself up a bit, it only measured a whopping 7.1mm thick. Ugh. I had been sitting in the waiting room remembering the "lining dances" my IVF compadres had done in my honor and thinking "8.5, 8.5, 8.5" all morning. Maybe my chant just wasn't to the right beat? Did the girls just not dance fast enough? Poo.
Because my ultrasound showed that my lining wasn't quite there yet, my nurse added yet another estrogen based medication to my already full regimen. In addition to the estrogen patches and shots, I get to add Estrace pills. I know what you're thinking. I do. "Awwww, pills aren't so bad. At least you can just swallow your meds. Be glad you don't have to inject them!" Yeah. Not so glad. See....how do I say this. Um....these pills, they don't..uh...go in your mouth. Yeah. You guessed it. They are ..."inserted". Fabulous. Months of poking, prodding, doctors looking at my lady bits on a giant Megatron, the great Aunt-Flow debacle of 2014, and now...pills up my hoo ha. Bonus. As though I haven't been shamed enough through this process.
But you know, through all of the appointments, the medications, shots, hormones, moods, and side effects, I can't help but think one thing over and over. They told me I'd never even ovulate. After we explained a vasectomy, cancer, and PCOS, I was discouraged from even starting all of this mess. Pffffft! Say what you want.....I got this. And thanks for the dare!