Here Goes Nothing.

Finally I can share the indescribable weight that I've been carrying around on my shoulders in my heart for what seems like forever. Life is funny. Sure it has its ups and downs, but you're never prepared for when those, "that could never happen to me" moments, well, happen to you.

My husband and I are high school sweethearts. We met my freshman year during Track practice and the rest is history. He finally popped the question in 2012 and we married in 2014. How does the saying go? "First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes..."

Infertility.

I never even considered that this would be a possibility. We planned everything out. I'd started taking a prenatal vitamin to prep for baby G. We'd wait until the end of Summer to start trying, that way we'd meet our little one just before Summer hit us once again. I didn't think much of it when we weren't pregnant after the first, second, or third month of trying. Sure it was frustrating, but I knew that these things can take time.

Every cycle starts the same way. When you're desperately trying to start a family, your period is your worst nightmare. The first two days I cry. Holy cow, do I cry. Nothing like being reminded of your failed attempt than cramps that keep you laying in bed all day. After the sadness subsides, it's full on positivity and determination. I will get pregnant. It will work this time. We'll have our family. The week leading up to my long awaited answer is agonizing. I look for literally anything as a sign that I might be pregnant. That food smelled weird, I'm pregnant! I'm extra tired today, must be pregnant! I ate half my weight in Nutella, there's got to be a baby in there! But no, there's not.

Fast forward to the next year, still no baby. I stopped taking pregnancy tests after the third month, deciding that seeing the words, "NOT PREGNANT," on a small screen was worse than my monthly confirmation. My doctor finally agreed that it was time to investigate. I can't remember how many times I had my blood drawn to check levels of progesterone, prolactin, FSH, LH, estradiol, the list goes on. After those all came back positive, it was time for an HSG (hysterosalpingogram).

The HSG is an x-ray that checks for tubal blockages. A small tube goes into the uterus where a balloon is then inflated. Iodine is released into the uterus and if all goes well, you'll see it flow through the fallopian tubes, indicating no blockage. I had the option to watch the screen as the procedure was taking place, but the intense pain that caused my hands and feet to go numb, the dizziness, and sweating kept me a bit preoccupied. The results of the HSG came back abnormal, so it was time for an ultrasound to complete an anatomy scan. Later that day after the ultrasound, I had a voicemail from my doctor stating that there seemed to be complete blockage on one side. She continued to list off a few Infertility Specialists that she highly recommended. I stopped listening after I heard the infertility word. I stared off as the voicemail continued, my husband listening next to me. I set my phone down and on came the tears. This isn't happening to us. We're good people. We just want a baby.

Two weeks later, we're headed to our first infertility consultation. I'm nervous, anxious, and excited to hear our options. The doctor sat down and explained my HSG results. She ordered yet another ultrasound to confirm what she called a, wait for it, Unicornuate Uterus. You read that right. I am part of the 1% of women who have a unicornuate uterus (UU). This means that I only have one fallopian tube, and a tilted uterus that's half the size of a normal one (see below).

The doctor explained to us that I have about a 5% chance of ever being able to conceive naturally. Because of this, we agreed that it's time to start treatment.

I have no words to express the amount of gratitude I have for my husband through all of this. I never knew I could feel so deeply saddened by this longing that never goes away. No matter how many times a break down out of nowhere, he's right there pulling me back up and reminding me that we'll have our little baby G one day. That man is my rock and as long as I've got him by my side, I truly believe him. One day, we'll have another ten little fingers and ten little toes to swoon over.