Over our vacation this past March, my hubby and I went to see my OB/Gyn to start the infertility discussion (I know we are so cool and adventurous!). Technically we weren't "infertile" yet- as in I had 1 more month at that point until we had been trying for 1 year without success and I love my OB/Gyn (she is young and deals with my crazy quite well) and she recommended we start getting testing done- lab work up, transvaginal ultrasound, and semen analysis BUT she overall didn't seem too concerned. She told me she doesn't see too many 28 year olds that are infertile. I am a lucky one- YIPEE!
So we proceeded with testing for me- blood work Day 3-LH, FSH, TSH, estradriol, and prolactin (help determine ovarian reserve, look for PCOS or a prolactinoma) and Day 21- Progesterone (to determine if I ovulated)- which all looked A okay! Yay! Then in between the blood work (Day 7), I had my first and I'm still hoping last interaction with the vag cam. I know I'm a doc and all and so maybe that should make me comfortable with all these awkward medical procedures but I am a much better doctor than patient. First of all, I am nosy and made the mistake of telling the ultrasound tech that I was a doctor and to please tell me what she was seeing/if she saw anything concerning and second of all, it's odd being a doctor and patient (aka knowing enough to be dangerous/worry like a maniac while simultaneously feeling that you shouldn't ask too many questions because you should know the answers/you don't want to be that pain in the ass patient). Anyway, so there I am with a large phallic shaped probe in my vagina with the tech telling me your right ovary looks good, there is a small cyst on your left ovary but that's normal at this time in your cycle then dead silence... and more silence... and more silence. So finally I muster up the courage to say, "So you're looking at my uterus now...?" She responds, "Well, something just doesn't look quite right." Then points to the screen. "Something is just not right here- It's either a septate or a bicornuate uterus." I really thought I was gonna lose it right there, vag cam still in place. My eyes were welling up and I was trying ridiculously hard not to break down there in front of the tech like the weirdo I am. In life's awesomeness it was Friday afternoon so I knew I'd be stuck with my worry all weekend until I heard from my OB and in other goodness my husband was on call that night so I would be alone with it too.
I called my husband from the parking lot basically hysterical and he being as wonderful as he is told me to drive back to the hospital. He met me outside, sat in my car with me, calmed me down for a while. The problem is I'm a pediatrician and so I know what a misshapen uterus can mean- difficulty getting pregnant but more commonly premature delivery. We had already discussed that we didn't know how much risk we wanted to take on if we had to pursue more invasive fertility treatments (ie IVF) and this just made me feel like any of those options were off the table. While I wanted to have our baby, I didn't want to have the risk of extreme prematurity which brings a myriad of life long problems. We talked about surrogacy. That's where I was in that moment. I know it probably sounds crazy but I see the worst of the worst outcomes from infertility treatments (after working 3 months in the neonatal intensive care unit) and I just don't think I'd be willing to take on the added risk. Can you tell my type A personality is always thinking three steps ahead? I pulled it together enough to drive home and then texted one of our very good friends. I knew I couldn't spend the night alone. Thank goodness for good friends. After a beer and some more tears, it seemed silly to be upset. I just needed to wait to hear the final report from the OB/radiologist.
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