I want to believe!

What comes to mind when you see the word unexplained?  A grainy black-and-white picture of a UFO? A blurry wisp of a ghostly figure in the window of an abandoned hospital? The phenomenally normal results of my recent blood labs? (No? I guess that last one’s just me then.)

I am healthy. Absolutely healthy. If my test scores were any more perfect, Doc probably would have called me a cheater and sent me to the principal’s office.

I decided to illustrate my frustrations artistically using my amazing computery Paint skills.


(You’re impressed, I know.)

Cue the X-Files theme, because there’s just no way to explain why I’m not pregnant yet. (God, I am so lame and I really should stay off Hulu for a while… )

Why am I so unbelievably pissed about those results, though? How spoiled am I? There I am, listening to a smiling, cheerful doctor list off my numbers, hearing that everything came back normal, and yet I was…

…disappointed? What the fu-…?

Thyroid? Normal. Glucose? Normal. All those other fancy words I don’t understand? All amazingly normal. People bargain, plead, wish, and pray every single day to hear results like that, but I was hoping for an answer today. I was really, truly hoping that one of those little numbers would be so far out of whack that the Doc could take one look and go, “AHA! THERE IT IS!”

But it’s never that easy, is it? It is literally a mystery why I am having such a hard time popping out a kid. Damn you, little ovaries. Something is wrong with you, why won’t you speak up and tell me what it is?!

We also found out the results of hubby’s SA, and he’s good to go. No problems there. Super fertile. Must be nice! (Does this mean we throw him in with the others and pelt him with passive aggressiveness and old chewing gum wrappers? No? Awwa… )

So of course, the spotlight is turned back on me, and at this point it’s less “spotlight” and more “light bulb inches from my face while I’m strapped to a chair with my interrogator coming out of the shadows with a pair of pliers.” We have ways of making you talk…

 What’s next? I’m being referred to a specialist. There’s nothing more my PCM (or my Nutritionist) can do, since my results clearly have them both scratching their heads and questioning everything they think they know about science.

In the meantime, I’m just going to keep my fingers crossed, keep cheering for my fellow hopeful-babymakers, and try really hard not to beat myself up too much for stopping by Starbucks for a much-deserved treat on the way out of the hospital today.

But oh man, as someone who rarely indulges in caffeine, it was soooo worth it. 


13 thoughts on “I want to believe!

  1. Yes, this is awful. All my numbers are normal too and I was told “well it may be PCOS” which I think they told me because they didn’t want to say “we dont know what the fuck is wrong with you, lets just try this.” Good luck with the specialist! I can’t wait to keep up with you and maybe you will get that BFP before you need to go 🙂 When I first made my appointment it was a 2 month wait but the receptionist says they get cancellations all the time from people falling preggo before their appointment, maybe that will be you! xo

    • Thank you for the optimism! 🙂 It really picked me up after the starbucks induced sugar high started to fail me this afternoon. 😉 I think our Docs pulled the same stunt. He casually mentioned that PCOS was a possibility but he couldn’t be sure. I was thinking, okay, yeah, google told me that much!

      Fingers are still crossed for you too, lady! Let’s see a BFP from you soon!!! 😉

  2. It’s very frustrating to see that everything is fine. Unexplained infertility is maddening. My mom thought I was strange for wanting to see tests come back with a problem but at least that means there is something to fix, a plan of action. I hope you find fertility success soon. Good vibes coming your way.

  3. I totally understand. They can’t find anything wrong with me and yet, here we are in the TWW after IVF. Nothing wrong, yet we only got 11 eggs. Nothing wrong yet there was only a 57% fertilized. Nothing wrong but only two embryos made it.

    I, of course, haven’t been on the end of a diagnosis, but I truly think NOT knowing is worse than having a diagnosis. Because not knowing means you don’t know what to fix. It’s like jumping off a cliff without looking what is down there… you hope it’s not too far and you hope there aren’t jagged rocks to break your fall. It’s so maddenly frustrating.

  4. I feel ya, I’m unexplained as well. Hubby is normal. When I start feeling super guilty about being the one whose causing all the problems, he always reminds me that when we married, we became one. There is no I’m broken, but he’s fine. There is only we. Try to keep your chin up.

  5. I know the feeling. I was crying on the phone on the way home after visiting a thyroid specialist who repeatedly insisted I was fine. I sooo wanted to have a clear issue I could specifically treat that it actually upset me not to be getting some magical thyroid medicine. Unexplained infertility sucks.

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