I r dum.

Sooo…

Nutritionist appointment went really well. It was nice to finally have someone listen to me explain what I’ve been doing and agree that my body rebels against every natural law known in the nutritional world. I mean, it wasn’t nice to hear that, it was just nice to know that I’m not crazy, and there aren’t evil little creatures force feeding me chocolate cake at night while I’m sleeping.

(Although… weight loss sabotage aside, I would probably be okay with that on some level…)

She did recommend that I step up my game when it comes to exercise, and she’s right. I don’t even go to the gym anymore even though I really should. It’s just not nearly as fun to go now that my workout buddy moved away and ABANDONED ME. (Just kidding, T! Love and miss you! Haha!)

It’s just a scary thought to go there all alone with no one to giggle with when I spectacularly fail at trying out a new machine, and I can’t ask anyone to go with me because I have zero friends within a 400 mile radius. Military life problems. 😥

Anyway, no more using that as an excuse. I want this weight gone. I want regular cycles and I DEFINITELY want to ovulate again, so tomorrow (no really, I’m not just procrastinating, I promise!) I am going to restart my gym routine. Might even look into signing up for a class. I’ll keep up with my walking/jogging of course. I just need to push my body a little harder, because if it wants to play rough, I’m going to torture it into submission! Hah!

Now, you would all be very proud of me because I was poised to take that building by storm after my scheduled appointment to find out what the deal was with my Doc and to demand a new one. I was ready to fight tooth and nail to make sure that someone with an IQ over 14 was put in charge of my case and, damnit, find out where my baby is!

But it never came to that… here’s why:

Nutritionist asked me if I had any lab work done to determine what my crazy body was doing. I believe I grumbled something about how I was supposed to have some done a few weeks ago but my doctor forgot about me…

She taps out a few things on her keyboard and then turns the screen to face me.

It’s all listed. Every test he ordered, right there.

I made a face, “but when was I supposed to have these things done…?”

Apparently, guys, all I had to do was go to the lab at my convenience. No appointment necessary. She told me it wasn’t a problem, that it was all still waiting on me, and all I have to do is make time to get it taken care of.

I r dum.

Actually. I r an ass, because I have been cussing Doc up, down, and sideways to my husband, to my dog, and on this freakin’ blog for the last few weeks, and it turns out it wasn’t even his fault.

It was mine.

So, smart alec of a husband waits until we are just barely out of earshot of the nutritionist and goes, “I guess this means you owe Doc a blog apology!”

You have no idea how much I hate it when he’s right. I mean, this is like the second time it has EVER happened, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

Here goes:

Dear Doc,

 

sorry

 

Love, Me

I am immensely sorry that I accused him of abandoning me, of being lazy, and of not taking me seriously. It was all a big misunderstanding. He obviously had no way of knowing that I would stupidly assume that these things would have to be scheduled. Maybe he just didn’t take me seriously when I told him that I have no idea how this doctor/army/MTF stuff is supposed to work.

Although, I want to point out how awesome you guys are for being ready to eat his face when we thought he was just doing a crappy job. I am so in love with all of you for trying to look out for me. Warm fuzzies all around! :3

Friday morning = lots of needles for me, and a semen analysis for the hubs!

GETTING SOMEWHERE, PEOPLE. IT”S FINALLY HAPPENING!

Yay, potential answers!! 😀

So, it’s official.

Image

“I’m sorry to say that since you have been trying for over a year, that means we are looking at a case of infertility.”

There it was.

The “I” Word. 

Glaring at me from the other corner. Knocking its gloves together. Staring me down with a smirk, thinking I was going to be an easy KO…

It really wasn’t a surprise. I knew when we walked into the appointment that we would have to put our brave faces on. I smiled weakly and nodded my head to show that I understood. I knew this was officially where the fight would begin.

But I’m ready.

The entire appointment wasn’t too bad. This was my first visit to a Military Treatment Facility, so it was a little unsettling at first to have Doc walk into the room in ACU’s. I like him though.

The actual “exam” portion of the day only took a few minutes and was (thankfully) uneventful. Then he took the time to talk to me about where we were with TTC, and immediately told us what our next steps were going to be. He was understandably concerned when I explained how irregular (and abnormally long) my periods are, and said that I can expect plenty of lab work so we can find out the cause. First things first though: a SA for the hubs to rule out any problems from his end. (and hubs is just so excited about that, too…not.)

I also brought up the fact that I have been trying to lose weight but results have (and always have been) slow and frustrating, even with experimenting with a vegetarian diet and hitting the gym almost every day. So Doc wants me to make an appointment with a nutritionist to find out if there’s anything more I can do. (I didn’t fess up about the cheesecake I had to scarf down just to work up the nerve to face him, buuuut… I don’t make a habit of that so it can just be our little secret, ok? 😉 )

He was glad to hear that I’ve been taking my prenatal vitamins and offered to put in a prescription for them. When I asked if the prescription version was better than over-the-counter, he replied, “Well, no, but they’re free.” Like I said, I like him. He gets me. By the time the appointment was over, I felt like I was in good hands.

As we were heading back to the car, I couldn’t help but notice that I was feeling more optimistic than I had in a long long time. No more pity party!

So…

I’m officially climbing into the ring with infertility.

I am going to fight. Hard. 

And I’m going to win.

I got this.