My head is still spinning a little bit from the morning’s fertility consult with our reproductive endocrinologist. There’s still a lot we need to wait and find out, but I walked out of that office a happy lady. Michael on the other hand: not so much.
It was our first time visiting this doctor and seeing a specialist for our issues getting pregnant, as opposed to my OB/GYN. We had what seemed to be a pretty routine consult: tons of paperwork to fill out, a consult with a nurse, then a resident. Michael wasn’t pleased with how long the whole process took, but they warned us it wouldn’t be short appointment.
When we met with the doctor she pretty much went right into what the “next step” is for this month: monitoring my ovaries to see if I ovulate on this fourth cycle of letrozole. That means I’m right back at the doctor’s office for an ultrasound in just a few days. If the little eggies aren’t growing at that point, there’s a chance some (follicle-stimulating) hormones will help with it. If there are still no signs of ovulation, we’ll have to go a different route next cycle, but we didn’t talk much yet about what that would be, because they wanted to run so many tests in the interim. I’m cautiously optimistic it’ll just… work.
So, the other tests:
Right after the meeting with the doctor, Michael went off to do his part, the semen analysis. Results TBD. Like really TBD – it takes two weeks to get them back. Two weeks! I was super curious about the room they took him to (it’s such a weird concept that’s there’s just a place where guys go to whack it) but apparently it was just a room with a TV. He didn’t even notice if there were magazines or anything. Come on, man.
While that was happening I had a follicular ultrasound. The results were the item that had me walking out of the office smiling… the sonographer took her pictures, wrapped up in a couple minutes and said “everything looks perfect!”
To which I replied:
She repeated herself, and I had to have her clarify several times before I realized she meant the many cysts that were there before… are gone! There were zero cysts! Thank you, low-carb diet (except not actually, because you’re awful and I just want all the cookies) and metformin! Obviously I’m a little confused about what this means for, you know, poly-cystic ovary syndrome, but at this point I’m just glad to hear they’re gone.
The sonographer also did a saline sonogram, which was pretty unpleasant. Think: a period’s worth the cramps in about three minutes. They basically use a catheter-turned-squirt-gun to put a bunch of saltwater in your uterus and check out your uterine lining. They make sure nothing’s blocked and everything is flowing as it should be. Gross. Again: all good, per the sonographer.
I also had a blood test to make sure my hormone levels are all where they should be. Since the ovarian cysts seem to have gone away, I’m a little nervous about the results of this one. Or again, maybe it’ll just… work.
The main terrifying thing to come out of all this: the bill. You know places like this are expensive when they have a “financial team” come through and walk you through the prices. At the same time, it was helpful and reassuring to have paperwork ready to go to explain what they had done and how much each procedure costs. They’re submitting what they can through insurance, but we’re looking at probably four digits by the time the bill comes through if it’s all out of pocket. Yikes.
All in all, I was pretty pleased. We’ll see how I feel in a few days when we get some results back.