As soon as one month ended, I immediately started to gear up for the next month. When I say gear up, I mean go back to my type-A ways and planning. Instead of just having sex when I was ovulating, I decided my odds were better if we had sex every other day. I used digital OPK tests. I started to panic that my next ovulation would take place when I have to travel for work.
I started counting days on my blackberry, estimating ovulation times. I began to treat my husband like a sperm donor – making him have sex with me when I knew he was tired or had to get up early the next morning. I didn’t care. I was strategizing that if we had sex before I left for my trip then the sperm would live 48 hours and if it was before I ovulated, I could still be good. It was awful. He said he felt used. I didn’t really care. (What man says that anyways? Oh yes, a man who loves you…) It sounds crazy in retrospect. But reading all of this stuff online about other crazy bitches elevating their hips, using egg whites as a lubricant and strange sexual positions it didn’t sound too crazy.
This time I stalked twoweekwait.com to see if I had any symptoms. I was sure I had done it right this time. It was 35 days since my last period and no sign of Aunt Flow. Good, that bitch had better stay away. She don’t want no piece of me. I was excited. I was officially late. I started to be really fatigued. I had these weird cramps (implantation cramps, I was so sure.), my breasts were sensitive, and I was peeing a million times a day. I even had supersonic smell. I could smell fish from across the grocery store. My husband’s cologne smelled disgusting. I was POSITIVE I was pregnant. I was over the moon. I took a million pregnancy tests. All negative. I was confused.
I went to the doctor to take a blood pregnancy test. Let’s call him Dr. Dipshit. Several days go by and I hear nothing. When I called him, he was like “What are you calling for again?” “Oh nothing, Dr. Dipshit, just wanted to see how you were doing.” Fucker. I was pissed. Note to self: stop seeing male doctors who don’t understand urgency. He eventually tells me the test is negative. Ok, I say, but I still don’t have my period, so what’s up? I tell him about the symptoms. He has no good answer.
Dr. Dipshit calls me back later, leaves me a voicemail and says that he’s going to give me Provera to make my period come. That’s it. No checkup, no ultrasound, nothing. So I get online. I’m reading symptoms of cervical cancer. I have some of them. I am panicking. I start reading stories about people whose pregnancies didn’t show up on a test until 7,8,9 weeks. I had a surge of hope. Because why would I be having these symptoms if I wasn’t pregnant? I stayed up all night researching online until I was sure that I had like 10 illnesses, and was possibly pregnant with an alien baby whose hormones refuse to show on normal blood tests.
The next morning I made an appointment with my old OBYGN to get an ultrasound. Let’s call him Dr. NoHelpAtAll. He tells me that my uterine lining is nice and thick. He says I’m either preparing for pregnancy or for a period. Well those are two tooootally different outcomes, Dr. NoHelpAtAll. I’m confused but hopeful. I start researching more. This has to have happened to someone.
And there it is, on the computer. These same symptoms: increased urination, extreme fatigue, heart palpitations, swollen stomach — could also be due to low B-12 levels. I don’t eat red meat (a primary source of B-12), and I’ve had low B-12 before. I was praying that wasn’t it. I bought a ton of pregnancy tests at CVS, and they were all negative. The next day, I got my B-12 levels checked. The results came back a week later. Sure enough, that was what it was. I was devastated. My period came 5 days later while I was on vacation. I was depressed. I drank a shit ton of wine.
LESSONS LEARNED: The internet can be a guide, but not a bible. Be your own advocate and don’t depend on doctors to tell you what’s going on with you. Don’t treat your husband like a piece of meat. Try, try again.
F!@$ You Infertility! 
[…] Being Type-A, I called before my endocrinologist appointment to see what to expect. She said nothing. Just show up. No blood drawn, nothing. When I get there, she’s very matter of fact that I have PCOS. The high presence of one male hormone (in my case testosterone), and one symptom (in my case irregular periods), you have PCOS. No matter about polycystic ovaries. She said “Looking at your chart, I see you’re taking Chinese herbs. I’m not going to comment on that.” I asked her to expand. She says that she is trained that it doesn’t work. She says PCOS doesn’t just go away. She says that Metformin will help to regulate insulin and help to regulate my periods. She says that the side-effects are mild. But I remember reading that it affects liver and kidney function, and that it can block B-12 absorption. I have a problem with B-12. […]