My Story

I've mentioned my friend Allison a few times here at The Kennedy Compound. Maybe I should give you a little background on the two of us. We met because our husbands (although when we met each other, the boys were still boyfriends) grew up together as part of one of the tightest groups of high school friends we have ever witnessed. We have slowly (and I mean slowly because not only am I terrible at making friends, Allison is really shy; so we're a great pair) become friends over the years, getting closer, I believe, with  our move back to Wisconsin and the fact that we both have adorable little boys. So, that's how we know each other.


Today, Allison posted about her infertility struggles. I didn't want her to be the only one feeling vulnerable, so I thought I would join the fun. Here is my story of the path we took to the birth of our wonderful Steve.


Three years ago, I decided to stop taking birth control. It had been almost 10 long years, and honestly, I really liked taking the pill. It offered me security, plus it regulated what had previously been an agonizing 5 days every month. But, a baby would not happen if I continued to take the pill. So off I went. I'm sure Teri remembers quite well when I told Matt (yes, told. Let's move past that.) that I was no longer taking the pill.


Anyway, the next few months were tough. I wasn't getting my period, but every month when I thought I should be and wasn't, I would take a home pregnancy test, only to have my hopes vanish down the drain. This went on until September of 2007. 


That fateful month Matt received what we thought was the offer of a lifetime to move back to the Midwest. So, we made the decision together (yes, I'm learning) for Matt to move in with his mom while I lived in Maryland and hopefully sold the house by Christmas. That didn't happen and thus begun 8 long months of traveling between Milwaukee and Waldorf every two or three weeks so we could see each other. There was only a little bit of stress in our lives.


In February of 2008, after much prodding from some wonderful friends at Barnhart, I visited my doctor. I explained the lack of period since going off of the pill in March, and we started a round of tests. All of my blood was tested, and I had both a regular ultrasound and an internal ultrasound. Based on my description of my periods in the past prior to going on the pill, my history of weight gain and loss, and the results of the tests, my doctor determined that I most likely have PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome). Basically, there are cysts on my ovaries that grow and prohibit ovulation when there is too much fat in my body. The last visit with my regular doctor (I then saw two other doctors trying to determine what I should do), she did an internal examine and aggravated the cysts. I was crying in pain for two hours after that. Oh, and crying because she told me it might be very difficult to conceive a baby. This news when I was watching all of my friends and family (or so it seemed) have babies.


The key for me seemed to be cutting carbs from my diet. With no carbs, my body was able to burn the fat that was building up. I then, over the course of about 8 months, lost between 20 and 30 pounds. 


I also left Maryland and rejoined Matt in his mom's basement. We finally sold our Maryland house, and were able to move into a house of our own in Wisconsin. It seems that the weight loss, the stress loss, and just being able to be in the same state as Matt were the key ingredients. About a month after we moved into our house on Green Haze, Steve was a tiny bundle of cells multiplying and growing.


I agree with Allison. Infertility is such a nasty word. I felt like I was somehow responsible for all the problems that I was having, and I didn't know how to just let God be in charge. But, we have Steve now. He was worth it.