**Warning - Long Blog Establishing History**
When I was 17 and diagnosed with PCOS, it was an annoyance. I didn't care to learn anything about it except that it made my periods irregular, and why did I care? At 17 going 60 days between cycles is COOL. I didn't think nor care about the implications it could have later on. As a matter of fact, things seemed to sort of right themselves after a few years. I still didn't care. And then I got hit like a bug splattering on a windshield with... you guessed it. Baby Fever. All of a sudden I couldn't look at a baby, or baby clothes, or pregnant women without turning into a slobbery mess of baby talk and "oooo" and "ahhhhh". Who was this person? It was me at 26. At that point I'd been with my boyfriend for maaaybe 2 years and babies were not an option, but a little piece of me was beginning to realize what a pain in the ass PCOS might turn out to be.
Fast Forward to today. I'm 29 and married to that boyfriend, and we want a baby! But life had other plans for us. Life, the jerk that she can sometimes be, decided that there would be no trying for a baby when we got married in October of 2009. Instead, I got kidney disease and began a 6-month course of high-dose prednisone in August which went through February. Prednisone can be ok in pregnancy, but not in insanely high doses given intravenously, so we decided not to risk harm to our baby and wait. We actually got good news in December that my kidneys were responding and stabilizing! YAY! But we also got blood work back on my husband that showed serious problems, and eventually led to the diagnosis of a pituitary adenoma.
Sparing him the details, the bottom line was this: There was no way we were going to get our baby with this tumor. Because we didn't have enough issues. Clearly.
So with that, hubby started on his meds, and after getting the "all-clear" from a high risk ob about my kidneys, we were ready to start in February. The infertility doctor insisted that I was not going to be an issue, and she wasn't convinced I had PCOS, which I was pretty excited to hear. I was ready for "Aunt Flow" who will furthermore be referred to as "AF" to come, and it didn't happen when it was supposed to. Weird. She'd come every 28-32 days for as long as I had been charting. December and January were 33, but weird things happen. And then I was on day 34.
Then 35.
Then 36...
And here I am on day 40. And I'm freaking out a little. Silly as I am, I'd thought "Well gee, we have kidney disease and a brain tumor to deal with. That should be enough!" But no.. my body has decided it hates me. Charting fertility signs as I do, I noticed a few strange things this month, and I'm hoping and praying I simply ovulated late. It's easy to stress your body into doing that, and if it comes in the next few days, that's likely what happened. If not... I have no idea. I'm really hoping it's not my body reverting to pubescent weird-period times because that would make a difficult process even more difficult. My doctor's already saying IVF, although Dear Husband (DH)'s doctor isn't, and I'm going to trust him for now since he knows more about the situation. I just don't need my body getting all crazy on us, too.
I want to be able to have this baby... to at least try. So COME ON AF!!!
How many times do you really say that? Well I'm saying it now!
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