After one month I was sure I was pregnant, but nothing. I figured, “Oh... well sometimes it takes a couple months after coming off of birth control,” so every month I patiently waited for that pregnancy test to somehow be positive, even though I was irregular and wasn’t even having periods. I figured some miracle would happen, because I was supposed to be pregnant. I just knew it. I prayed, I fasted, I went to the temple, and I did everything I was supposed to be doing. I would be rewarded for being so good, right? Wrong! Or at least not in the way that I was wanting. I was doing what I was commanded to do (multiply and replenish the earth) right? The greatest calling is motherhood, right? All of these things I figured would finally work out in my favor, and the Lord would bless me with a baby. Months went by, and nothing was changing. I wasn’t getting pregnant. My body was not even working to get me near having a baby.
After months and months of nothing, I started to get bitter. I started to feel the Lord did not care about me. No one was there listening to my prayers, my begging. Why would a Father listen to someone cry all night, praying, bargaining, and pleading for a child, only to do nothing for them? You could say that I grew to hate Him for a time. I didn’t want anything to do with Him. After all, it seemed He wanted nothing to do with me, so why should I care? I was tired of seeing all my friends and family with their ability to become pregnant by just sneezing. I was tired of the Facebook posts where people complained about being pregnant when that is all I could cry to Mark about. That was all I ever thought about. I couldn’t go 10 minutes without somehow thinking of a baby, or seeing a baby post, or something.
After a week or two of being bitter and angry, I finally came back to the Lord. I knew that I had left Him. I knew He loved me and that everything He does is for my best interest. I knew that He understood the greater plan. After each negative test, I grew stronger in my testimony and relationship with the Lord. It wasn’t easy, but I could see that I was growing from this time of trial. I can’t say that I always kept this positive attitude, but it was getting easier each time, except for one time, but I will get to that later.
So come March 2016, with Mark’s help, love, and support, I finally decided to go into an OB/GYN to see if something was wrong. After all, in about 5-6 months of trying, I had only had one period. So we went in and talked to a doctor. They said, “Well obviously, you are not having periods, and when you do, you are not ovulating, you are just cleaning your system out.” So we got prescribed Provera to start my period, and then Clomid to make me ovulate. Round one, nothing. That was pretty difficult, but I still had two more chances to go; it would work! Round two, my levels were higher, but still not high enough to know for a fact that I ovulated. So we waited to see if I was pregnant. Nope, nothing.
Round 3 started in July of 2016-- let’s try this whole thing one last time. It worked! I ovulated! I knew I had, so on day 21 I went to the doctor and had a blood test (man am I sick of blood tests after getting 2 every round). Results came back, and I ovulated! I was ecstatic. It worked this time. I was going to be a mom! I started planning how Mark and I were going to tell our families, and eventually the world, that we were pregnant. Mark and I had our names picked out and were ready for a boy or a girl. But ultimately, we had to wait for another 10 days to see if I was pregnant.
In those 10 days I had so many pregnancy symptoms. You may think, “You were only 3 maybe 4 weeks along, how could you possibly know what pregnancy feels like?” After you have googled every “pregnancy symptom” known to man, and googled multiple times “first pregnancy symptoms,” you know what to look for. Anyways, these ones were legit. I told my mom and my sister-in-law what I felt and they assured me by saying that yes, this was stuff that they felt or similar. I was elated! So come day 7 after finding out I ovulated, I started spotting. I thought to myself, “Ok this is the last sign I needed. I just know for sure now.” Then day 8, still a little spotting. Day 9, the flood gates opened. This was not spotting. This is a full-fledged heavy period. Oh boy, did I cry.
Here is the other part I talked about when I became angry with the Lord. He had tricked me. He had given me hope, watched me get excited, let me spot, and then cruelly released the flood gates. I was bitter. I never wanted to do anything for Him again. I didn’t want to go to church, I didn’t want to go to the temple, I didn’t want to pray, and ultimately, I laid in bed having a bitter pity party. My mom instantly decided that she needed to make a road trip to ensure that I was ok after I told her I started my period. A mother always knows, right? And mine knew that I was not ok. She came here and made me get up and do things and go places. I didn’t want to though. I didn’t want her to know how far gone I was, how far gone my testimony was, or how angry I was with the Lord. I remember one night taking a drive with Mark while my mom was out for a bit. I just drove, and cried. We drove up to the hills in silence, other than my crying. Poor Mark had no idea what to do to make me feel better. I finally pulled over after driving for about 20 minutes and just bawled. I told Mark about everything I was feeling, even though he had heard it a million times over and could probably recite my own feelings to me, as well as I could. He sat there and patiently listened, then he offered his spiritually guided words, which at the moment, let’s be honest, was the last thing I wanted to hear. It actually kind of irritated me that it seemed Mark was on “His” side. The side of the Father who I so strongly felt had abandoned me and mocked me in my time of need. Of course, I knew in the back of my mind that I was overreacting. Give it time and I would be back to myself. I was just mad at that time.
Like I said, I just needed time, and eventually I came back around. I repented of all that I had said in anger to the Lord. I had to put my faith back in Him that things would work out in his time. But oh man, when people would tell me to “just wait, it’s all in God’s time,” “just relax,” “I know what you are going through,” or “you are still young, you have time,” I would get livid. I would try to be polite, because I know it is an awkward situation and that really nothing can be said to make me feel better. But I didn't want them to tell me it would happen; they didn’t know that for sure. I didn’t need them to tell me how they went through this years ago, because surely they didn’t remember what it is like. I know these feelings of mine were expressions of anger, but I felt like no one could relate to me unless they were going through it at this very moment.
Mark and I had tried our 3 rounds, but when they failed, we decided to take a little break. Well that didn’t last long. I just hated being stagnant or at least that is how I felt I was being. When Mark and I went home to visit my family, my mom set up an appointment with my previous OB/GYN from before I was married. She visited with me and Mark. She looked over what had already happened and decided on 3 more rounds of Provera and Clomid. She also told me that she thought I might have PCOS (Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome, a hormonal imbalance that disrupts regular ovulation) so she put me on a low carb diet to help fix this. I thought that would be so easy, but I didn’t realize how many carbs I ate and how much I loved them. I’ll be honest, I still haven’t mastered this whole low carb diet thing yet, but I am getting better.
After we got back from our trip to visit my family I got sick with a cold, but that was ok, because I was starting my Provera, and things were right in the world. Then, at the end of that week, I had a visit to the ER. Lucky me, I had a stomach ulcer. I was sure this wouldn’t cause any problems with me taking my Clomid, but I figured that I’d better call my doctor and ask before I started taking it. So I called, and the nurse told me she didn’t know why it would be a problem taking the Clomid. I was so excited, but then I got a call back from her about 10 minutes later where she told me that she had talked to a doctor and that it would be best if I waited a month or two to ensure my stomach had healed (just in case I got pregnant and got very sick and threw up a lot). I was so sad. My hope of having a kid was stolen from me again. I was just sad this time though, not bitter, hich is what I have told myself is an acceptable response. I can be sad that I am not pregnant, but I am not allowed to be bitter anymore. I need to keep my head up and believe in the Lord and His plan and timing for me.
Our break after the stomach ulcer ended up lasting much longer than expected. The ulcer happened in September 2016, and we decided to go back to an OB/GYN in our area where we lived in February in 2017. As much as I didn’t want to take that break, it was much needed. I grew so much in that time and became stronger. I could now better stand on my own two feet. So we went to the doctor, and this doctor was amazing. He sat down with us and described everything that should be happening in my body that isn’t. Next, he went over all the options we had to get us pregnant and what order we would try them in. He decided to go with Femera (another thing like Clomid) and Provera. He gave us a couple months of trying this again before moving on to more expensive options. So we have been doing those rounds. Things are moving in the right direction. My body is responding better, I haven’t taken provera since the first round, and I’m on my 3rd. My body isn’t quite to a regular cycle time frame yet, but it is getting closer each time.
I still don’t know when I will get pregnant. I do know my strength though. I am strong after going through this. I can do hard things. I can be happy in the middle of trials. It’s not easy. Some weeks are better than others, especially when I have medicine messing with my hormones. I choose to be happy though. I hate being a negative person. I also have learned that I have experiences to share. I have friends and family that are going through similar experiences that I went through, and when they turn to me, I can give them advice or answer questions for them. That honestly lately has been the biggest thing for me-- helping others going through this. I will always choose joy. I will choose to be happy and help other people.