Part of My Story. . . Part 1

It was January 2008, and T and I had just gotten back from a wonderful 3-week trip to Egypt. T and I have what you would call a bucket list, and traveling to Egypt was always high on our priorities of things to do.

In January of 2008, we had been married 3 1/2 years. T and I were pretty firm on the idea that we wanted to be married 5 years before we discussed having children. It was really important for us to continue to get to know each other, and to do things that are difficult when children are in the equation.

Yet, that cold winter day in 2008, we decided that we were ready NOW. I still don't know what led us to that decision. Maybe it was the frequent questions by T's relatives in Egypt about when we were going to have children? Maybe it was the fact that we had just had a wonderful vacation, and felt like we had pretty much done all we wanted to do before children? Whatever the reason, we went against our initial plan and decided to try to have a baby.

I'm not going to sugar coat this. . . I became a crazy person. . . IMMEDIATELY. So much for fun, and just going with the flow. My type A, must be successful at everything personality had me obsessing a bit. And when I didn't get pregnant that first month, I joined the blogs, the message boards, goog.ling infertility. Yes folks. . . this was after one month of not being able to get pregnant. One month.

The months started to pass. Pretty soon it was March, and before we knew it, it was summer. The logical part of me knew that it could take up to a year for healthy couples to conceive, but I was freaked out. I had read every horror story the internet had to offer at this point. T as always was the calm and logical one. And I was the emotional and illogical one.

In about October of 2008, still not pregnant, I decided to call a Reproductive Endocrinologist. (RE) Anyone who has been in this world, knows that they won't see you until you've been trying to have a baby for a year. So what did I do? I told a little white lie about how long we'd been trying.

This started off a series of appointments for both T and I. T wasn't nervous. He knew we'd conceive eventually. Me, I wasn't so confident. After many painful and expensive tests, our doctor informed us he couldn't find anything wrong with us. Nothing. He gave us two options . . . Go ahead with treatments, or wait it out longer. Anyone who reads this blog knows how impatient I am, so. . . we (I) decided that we would go ahead with treatments. At this point, I had just turned 29, and I felt like I wasn't getting any younger.

The decision to go ahead with treatments drastically changed the next year in both of our lives. It's actually one of those decisions that I would take back in a heartbeat. But at the same time, I know that decision helped me to grow as a person. That quick decision helped me to really figure out who I am. Things I need to work on, things about myself that I had never realized, and things about myself that I needed to change.

(Part 2 will be coming later this week)