So. I'm infertile. Yes, it's true. Kind of relieving to write that down, actually, although it still feels like a dirty little secret in some ways. Not dirty - shameful somehow. I know that's not a good attitude, but hard to snap out of, nonetheless. 4 years of good old fashioned unprotected hetero-lovemakin' hasn't knocked me up. Now that I'm married, we're ready to rock and roll on baby making and we're enlisting help.
I went to my regular MD on 8/16 and was disappointed. I knew more about the topic of my PCOS than she did. I left my appointment bewildered, holding a prescription that was written way too easily. The script is for Glucophage, but I didn't fill it. I don't want to be put on meds that both my doctor and I don't understand!
Later, I talked with my boss about it. Normally, my lady issues wouldn't be discussed in my director's office. But my boss has the same condition and is very much pregnant. Yeah! Hope! She referred me to her OB/Gyn and I set an appointment for 9/10. I had to re-schedule due to issues with Danny's insurance (I just barely made it onto his policy) and I'll be seeing her on 10/1. That's my new quit smoking/drinking/all that good stuff date. More on that later.
Yesterday I spent an awful lot of time online searching for a reproductive endocrinologist in Anchorage. Then in Alaska. No luck on either. It looks like the fertility-challenged folks of Alaska have to fly down to Seatle for help from experts. Not to say that I'll definitely need it - but it's highly recommended. I'll just ask my new doc about it. Hmm.
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