All it takes is faith and trust...

And just a little pixie dust…

If my life were a Disney film, it would be Peter Pan and I would be Wendy. Not because of my age, lord knows I have a few years on that girl, but because much like Wendy, all it sometimes takes is a Peter Pan and Tinkerbell to take your life to where you’ve always dreamed about.

A few weeks ago I was completely defeated and trying to come to terms with letting go of my “Neverland.” A thought that took my very breath away, but was something that I knew I had to do. Thankfully, my “Lost Boys” didn’t stop believing. My Mom contacted every one she could think of. She exhausted all her avenues and called in every favor humanly possible to find an OB who could help me. There had to be one right? She had all her contacts working double time to come up with a list of OB’s who have experience with IF. And they did.

Today I had a meeting with my Peter Pan. I had my copies of my chart from my last OB. I had all my monthly charts printed out and ready to go. I highlighted stuff. I tabbed stuff. I had everything together in a sweet little bad news filled package. The entire morning I felt like I was going to vomit and by the time I got to his office my anxiety was through the roof. I so badly wanted to get excited and hopeful, but after having my Mr. Darling (aka reality) slap me down repeatedly, I tried to keep straight.

We were called back to an exam room and went over all the goods with the nurse. Typical medical history stuff (thank god my Mom was there, so many things I never thought to mention with my family history) and I handed her all my info. I think she was a bit taken back by the data I had. I knew it came across a little OCD, but she acknowledged that if I was willing to be that diligent with my data collection, she knew I would be that diligent with doing whatever it took to get pregnant. She politely excused herself and took all my information to the doctor to review.

It felt like forever in that room honestly. My legs were bouncing, I couldn’t sit still and I was just waiting for him to drop the hammer. My Mom was optimistic though. She’s good for that. Finally the nurse came back and lead us to the doctor’s office. I always imagined Peter Pan as a young boy wearing a green leotard. Nope. He’s an older gentleman with a mustache and wears a white coat. I don’t remember every word, but basically the jist is, I do have a luteal phase defect. So much information was thrown my direction and he went over practically every single part of the woman’s cycle and where mine is messed up.

The meeting was wonderful. To have a doctor sit there and tell you that you aren’t crazy and that everything you were thinking was right is amazing. My last doctor honestly made me feel nuts. Like I was looking too much into everything. Trust me, I’m not so desperate to be on the infertile team that I would make this up. I would LOVE to be able to do this on my own. Believe me. He admitted, it wouldn’t play out that way. My body needs a little help.

By the end of the conversation we had a game plan. Something I thought I wasn’t going to ever have. Since I have a history of PCOS, he thinks my ovaries are the issue. That they aren’t quite doing what they should be doing, so he’s going to give them a little help in the form of Clomid. This cycle is obviously shot since I’m too far into it, but next cycle, IT IS ON. I have my instructions on when I’m supposed to take it and when I need to come back for testing and all that jazz. He’s hoping that the Clomid will fix the problem, but he’s going to do his due diligence and run the appropriate tests to ensure it’s doing what it should. If not, he’s going to tweak it. He was honest, it might take us some time to get there, but he was confident we would get there.

I left his office smiling and with hope. On my ride back to my office everything started to hit me and the water works started. I have so badly wanted this for so long and to finally feel like it’s going to be a reality is so overwhelming. In a good way of course. So this is officially our LAST TTA cycle. When CD1 comes, we will finally be TTCAL.