This week is National Infertility Awareness Week. My purpose is to share with you my corner of the vast world of infertility. I feel it’s important to share because silence is so often isolating.
My journey started shortly after my husband and I got married. I was on the normal birth control track. But when we started wanting to try for kids, the excitement of potential crashed down on me like an avalanche. I couldn’t seem to get pregnant. I’ve always been prone to headaches and migraines, but I started developing them even more often. I also saw rapid weight gain and felt myself having crazy mood swings. I made a doctor’s appointment.
Unfortunately, my appointment felt devastating. I was told I was fat, and to eat less ice cream and other treats as a way to mitigate my symptoms. I still very clearly remember the feelings of not being listened to, and of anxiety and ickiness while I sat in that doctor’s office. I then handled the emotional turmoil of the exchange in a mature and responsible way: I went home and I ate ice cream. I knew I could be eating healthier, and I knew I could work out more… but I also knew something was wrong with me.
So I picked myself up and I made an appointment with a different provider. I saw a PA, and she was able to help me. It turned out that my symptoms had a name: Hyperprolactinemia. Basically, there is a tiny, rogue cellular tumor on my pituitary gland, the gland that controls hormones. It likes to wreck havoc on my whole hormonal system. It’s not cancerous, but one of its symptoms is that I experience monthly cycles that look normal on paper, but do not let me conceive. I also lactate regularly. (This is the most embarrassing thing I can admit to. I don’t ever talk about it with friends or family face-to-face. Even though I’m not pregnant, I can produce breast milk!)
So I muddled through my diagnosis by seeking out treatments and spending a lot of time with multiple doctors. I was given medication that “had low side effects”… except I reacted to it poorly. I had a dear, darling friend come take care of me because my husband was out of town and I couldn’t move my neck after taking my meds. I was so so sick that first time taking it; I threw up every night at 2 AM. Super fun! And it still didn’t correct my Hyperprolactinemia.
My mood swings were still over the place, and I created a lot of havoc those early years of my marriage. My doctors, whose job it was to help me get pregnant, wanted us to consider IUI and IVF but the medicines I was already on were getting to be too much for me. I’m not against IUI and IVF–I know they bring happy endings to many families–but for me, I just couldn’t handle it. It was also an expense we didn’t think we could manage at the time.
Instead, my husband and I decided to look into adoption. The process came with its own set of heartbreaks and setbacks, but also immeasurable joy. We have our daughter now! Those first 5 years of infertility (out of 7 so far) were ROUGH. We really had a tough time. But we persevered and survived and it it sure made “mundane” things like buying a house feel easier in comparison!
I slowly tapered off the doctor appointments and the medicine when we made that decision to not go the IVF route. There were long-term effects possible if I stayed on the medication, and I think I needed some emotional separation from the sterile medical side of infertility. I still feel strong emotions sometimes about not being able to conceive.
I was really in a tough spot early on, and did not handle friends and family who were getting pregnant well. (Especially “surprise” babies. Ouch!) I do not think our marriage would have done as well either if we chose to stick with the doctors and medication; my mood swings were not healthy for anyone. I am now able to be joyful for those who do get pregnant. Does the longing every really go away? Nope. But it’s under control and doesn’t derail me like it used to.
It’s really hard to put a number on how many women (and men!) are affected by Hyperprolactinemia, but the number is on the smaller end. But not so small that it’s not treatable in our region. Maybe this is you, too. I’ll never claim I walked the exact same path as you, but we are certainly bonded by this. I hope you recognize that I feel for you, and that you are brave for dealing with it in your way.
If this isn’t you, I hope you can use it to relate to a friend or sister who IS walking through infertility, Hyperprolactinemia or not. Be gentle, be loving, and be present.
