Thursday, April 30, 2015
If you have a problem, it could help you if you know you are not alone.
1 of 6 couples have difficulties with conceiving, but not many of them are open to speaking about it.
There are some celebrities who told their stories to encourage others.
You can find some list of celebrities who were struggling with fertility problems below.
As you can see, there are very different personalities and body types.
There are thin and curvy, easy going and drama queens.
There is not "One Type" of person with fertility problems.
Common to me is, that everybody on the lists have had problems conceiving, but all of them are now proud parents.
12 Celebrities Who Have Struggled With Infertility
(Mariah Carey, Jimmy Fallon, Hugh Jackman, Lisa Osbourne, Céline Dion, Gwen Stefani, Sarah Jessica Parker, Nicole Kidman, Courteney Cox, Kim Fields, Brooke Shields, Giuliana Rancic)
Kim And Chloe Kardashian + 10 Other Celebrities Open Up On Fertility Issues
(Kim Kardashian, Khloe Kardashian, Elisabeth Banks, Hugh Jackman, Giuliana Rancic, Mariah Carey, Nicole Kidman, Brooke Shields, Marcia Cross, Céline Dion, Courtney Cox, Rosie Pop)
5 Celebrities Who Admitted To Facing Fertility Problems
(Jaime King, Khloe Kardashian, Sarah Jessica Parker, Giuliana Rancic, Gwen Stefani, Mariah Carey)
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
“Did Anikó call you?”
“No” I said, sensing something bad. I, the amateur dressmaker, designed her wedding dress, but we did not see each other after this wedding until ours. She left my wedding very early, what hurt me that time. I thought, I would never hear anything more about her.
“She asked me for your phone number”, the teacher said.
“Oh really?” I said, “What’s up with her?”
“There is one piece of big news, but she said, I should not tell you, she wanted to…”
In a second I knew, what this big news could be.
“Will she have a baby?” I asked and mimed pleasure and smile.
“Yes” she winked to my eyes as an accomplice.
“Oh really?” I said and smiled. I was just like paralyzed with horror about waiting the call of Anikó. When we last saw each other, a half year ago, I said to her, that we wanted to have a baby very soon. She said then, they wanted to wait some time.
Anikó phoned me two days later, exactly half an hour after I received my period. She told
me the big news, that she was pregnant in the 4th month, and I congratulated her.
“And how are things with you?” she asked me.
“Umm… I m not pregnant, - I said very calmly, just as she would asked me about something not important, and would not harrow my feelings at their deepest. “Finally, I started to learn English. Here, in our language school” I said and just talked and talked and asked her about things. But it’s sure, that five minutes later, after hanging up, I couldn’t tell you what I was said. Not a word.
Taking medications, ultrasounds and blood tests again. Ádám went with me, again, and I didn’t faint, this time.
I continued learning English at full speed.
Anikó phoned me again, to ask me: “Are there any changes with you?”
I cried and freaked out, when I had my cycle on the day 31.
Suddenly, all pregnant women and young mothers became my enemies. I hated them. They were there all over, they infested everything with their big bellies and hordes of children in the streets, public transport and parks… There was no surprise that several times a week, I had to listen in the waiting rooms pregnant women telling about their one or two year old toddlers… They were everywhere! There were so many, even on the hidden paths in the forest, that some of them could be sent in smaller groups against us every fifteen minutes, every time we left the house.
There were two types. Type 1: The very satisfied, who watched your eyes, looking for admiring looks to the buggy. Type 2: Who couldn’t appreciate the gift from God. They pulled their children even in public areas, shouting at them. “Do you want me to leave you here?!”, they would call to their two year old. They didn’t deserve them, still, they got them! I could not understand the Big Creator. I could just…not…understand.
Sunday, April 26, 2015
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Part 1 of my story with the title
BEFORE I GOT PREGNANT
HORMONES, HSG AND IUIS
is now available as a kindle edition on Amazon!
For free for subscribers!
I have a spelling problem on my book cover, how bad is this?!!!
I made a new version, I hope, it will be changed in the next 12 hours on Amazon...
When I realized my failure, I was really mad.
But you know what?
That's the point: You have failed, and you try it again... and again...
Monday, April 20, 2015
We made an appointment with the doctor for the hysterosalpingogram (HSG) test for Monday. I had to be at the appointment at 7.45 in the morning.
I have never been to a hospital before, so the whole thing was almost an exotic experience for me (at least for a while). I took my little bag with a jogging suit and slippers, a book for reading and an expensive German women’s magazine as a consolation gift for myself. I also had something to drink and a chocolate.
At the reception, I had to give data, the name of my doctor, and the name of the test. Then, they said, I should go to the second floor.
There again, I introduced myself to the nurse, who went with me to a private ward. Actually, I was not imagining such a luxurious room in a hospital in Hungary, where the rooms are mostly with 4 beds. I almost felt regret, that I would miss this real collective hospital experience. I seemed to be a VIP guest, because I was the private patient of Dr. Horváth. I even got the key to my room, so I could lock it, if I needed the powder room.
I closed the door behind myself, and I changed my clothes. I didn’t bring pyjamas, because I decided not to loose my dignity. So I had sweatpants with a comfortable flannel shirt.
After changing my clothes, I opened the door a crack. The people outside should not think, I would imagine, that I was in a hotel, where you could separate yourself from the others, if you wanted to. I lay down to my bed and started reading the Hungarian version of Bridget Jones diaries. I laughed a lot and by the way, I realized how good it was that I had a man, at least.
Until midday, nothing happened. To find some variety, I went to the little girls room, twice, and changed from the book to the women’s magazine.
At 12, they said to me, that I could come to have lunch. I had a weird feeling, when I went to the dining room: It was like a hotel with very low number of stars (or maybe none). It had ugly furniture and a toilet on the end of the corridor. But, what a nice surprise: they give you lunch for free! I got fork and spoon from the nurses, because I, the inexperienced hospital patient, didn’t know, that you should take it from home because there was silverware shortage due to pilferage. I wanted to mingle, so I sat down at a table with three women and began to paddle my soup.
The age of the women was between 50 and 70, all of them had housecoats in bright colors and night clothes with little flowers. And obviously, all of them were sick. I was ashamed of myself, because I was just one of them, at age of 28, and I was ashamed of myself also, because I felt at the same time, that nothing was wrong with my body, I just a slack about, while they had God-knows- what horrible diseases.
I almost began with the second dish, when I heard my name. The physician in attendance arrived, who had the job of checking every new patient on the floor.
I went into the examination room. I saw five or six doctors and scrubs at the table, only men. They broke their chatting and eating, and stared at me. I was the only young female patient.
The nurse lead me to the examination table and after catching my eyes, she drew the curtain in, and separated me in this way from the mass of the white coated young men. I got off my pants and my panties, and laid down spreading my legs, just like nothing would be more natural for me, than doing this in the presence of 6 young men.
The physician in attendance examined me manually and went away. He asked me, why I was hospitalized. He had good bedside manner. Although he didn’t tell me, what exactly he was doing to me and why he did it.
At half past two in the afternoon, when I was very bored in my single room, my doctor showed up. Earlier on the day, he had appeared on the scene, but then he acted like he didn’t see me and didn’t know that he was the one who had hospitalized me.
“Unfortunately, we can’t do the HSG today, the radiology closed at 2 pm.” He said, and added: “We will postpone it until tomorrow.” I saw that he seriously meant, that I would spend the night in the hospital. I asked him, polite and scared, if this would be really necessary. He was in a good-natured forgiving mood, and said, that I could go home now, but only on the QT. I should talk to the nurse. I should leave some of my clothes there in the room, so they wouldn’t give the room to another patient. I should be back tomorrow morning, before 7.45, before morning rounds.
Very quickly, before he could change his mind, I sent a phone message to Ádám, to come for me. I changed my clothes and we hurried home.
I was very disappointed, of course, because I wasn’t through with it. I phoned my German group, and said, I couldn’t come to our lesson. I’m not a very good liar, so I didn’t give a reason.
The next morning, we woke up very early, so I could sneak back in my hospital bed. The doctors came around 8.30. I had been never a part of hospital rounds before, I had never been a patient. I knew the situation only from medical television shows.
This is how it happened: Suddenly, I heard two knocks on the door of my room, and the nurse came in, behind her a middle aged, tired-faced doctor, and a lot of young guys in white coats. They were so many, that they could not really come in to the little room, just peer in from the door.
I tried not to show, how it felt for me, a feeling that should be well known for monkeys in the zoo. I sat up comfortably, in with my legs crossed. Usually, I don’t see my guests lying in bed.
“You will have a HSG?” The doctor asked shortly, looking to his papers.
“Yes, Dr. Horváth will do it.” I said, to avoid misunderstandings. Not, that this apathetic stranger could touch me!
“Were you informed about the test?”
I didn’t know what to say. The truth was, that I had no clue about this test. My doctor didn’t tell me many things, because I didn’t ask him. I didn’t want to suggest to his colleague that he was a bad doctor. But I didn’t want for them to think that I knew everything, and maybe would expect from me something, that I had never heard before.
“Ehh… what should I say?” I thought out loud.
“Yes or no?!’ The strange doctor said shortly, huddled his papers up and stormed out of the room as quickly as lightning, with all his hangers-on. Only the nurse caught my eyes.
They closed the door behind themselves. I was alone. I cried. That was the day number 2, that I spent totally exposed in the hospital. How I felt depended on the goodwill of uncountable strangers, what and how was happening to me was almost surreal. Kafkaesque.
Before 12, my doctor charge into my room and asked me “How are you?”, and I said, fine. It was lunch time: when the nurse saw, that the doctor had personally come to consult with me, she insisted on taking my lunch to my room. Dr. Horváth said, he would come back in a half hour, and disappeared.
He did come back, but not in a half an hour, but that’s only a minor detail. And I had to confess: when you are hospitalized, you have a lot of time.
We went to the examination room, because he wanted to put the catheter in. The type, that is used by little babies, you know. He was displeasured, because I had no night-dress, but in was pants.
“You can’t hold the outlet barrel, while we go to the radiology.” He explained, but then, he had an idea: “No problem, I will fix it with an adhesive tape to your leg!”
I survived the procedure like a hero, but my face could be a little bit wry, so he asked: “Are you all right, Anett, or are you having convulsions?”
“No, I’m okay.” I assured him. I tried to be a good patient, just like I tried to be a good girl, a good teacher and a good wife. I didn’t want to upset anybody.
We took the corridor to the elevator. The radiology was 2 floors lower, than the examination room, of course.
I had never walked with Dr. Horváth together before. I hadn’t realized earlier, that he was a little bit shorter than me.
He pushed the call button of the elevator, and tried to chat, but I caught him up in the speech letting him know, that I was afraid and I would faint. I sat on a bench and made my world good. When I came around, the head nurse washed my forehead with a wet cloth. The doctor stood a little farther on, wringing his hands. He looked so helpless.
“Why did you get so scared?” The nurse asked me. “Because of the test or because of the possible result?”
“Because of the test.” I made the confession. I was no hero. Honestly, I think, I didn’t collapse because of the fear to the test. It was enough for me, the knowledge, that a catheter was hanging out from me, that was fixed to my leg, and I was marching to the elevator among unknown people. Just like an android, having some parts of me from metal, chatting to this stranger, who wore white clothes.
They got a wheelchair and a male-nurse, so finally, I reached the radiology.
There was not a soul, except for a young doctor, who received me unbelievably kindly. He introduced himself (he was the first one with a white coat, who did this to me!), and asked me about how I felt.
“I’m super” I said, and smiled ashamed.
I had to stand to a wall, to that I got tied to. The whole contraption was moved, until we (the wall and me) were lying down. Then, they injected some dye through the little pipe into my uterus, so they could see on the monitor, that both of my oviducts are permeable.
That was not really surprising to me, because I never had this feeling, that something would be wrong with my female genital organs, and that would be the problem of getting pregnant. I took the medicines only for the sake of the doctor. So I felt now not really great joy, only a little relief.
I wanted to, but they didn’t let me walk back, I was taken with the wheelchair, as far as my room. I said goodbye to the male-nurse but I didn’t give him money, although he did a good job.
I crouched back to my bed in my single room, pretended to be brave and read my book. My doctor came in and I gave him the money.
In our country, you have the medical system free, if you have insurance. But because everybody has insurance, and the doctors’ payment is low, you think, it is better, to give them extra money in envelopes. So you think, you will get some extra attention. In this way, I could hope for extra attention and told my doctor, that I fainted before, because the other physician in attendance had treated me so badly. My doctor said, if I didn't have a fever, I could go home at 5 pm, at my own risk.
The waiting was even worse, than in the morning hours. At 16.45, everything was in my bag. A nurse showed up with a thermometer. I held it for two minutes in my armpits, and it went to 37 Celsius. I decided, not to measure it for the full 10 minutes, as it was ordered. I didn’t want to give it the chance, to go higher. I felt my head very hot, but I signed the papers, and ran to Ádám, who was waiting for me in the car.
I did something, that I never would think about myself. I always thought it would be the sign of a lack of self-discipline: when other people don’t follow medical orders 100 %.
I had a vision that something would go wrong, and I would have the shame, to be taken with an ambulance back to the hospital, from which I had escaped. But nothing went wrong, luckily.
I could go to sleep and dream (in my own bed) with the knowledge, that it was proved: there is no physical problem with me. That I couldn't get pregnant yet could be only a misunderstanding.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
After 7 years I stopped to take my pill. It was strange. I did not have to concentrate not to forget to take it, and not to get pregnant accidentally destroy my future with an accidental baby. I got a new challenge: the thermometer.
The point of the thermometer is, to take the temperature of my body every morning, before getting out of bed and to record it religiously. From the changes of the body temperature, subsequently, you can determine the time of ovulation and you can draw the inference to the most opportune term of the next cycle.
I decided to not carry too far, and not to take the temperature in the rectum as the books suggest it. I keep at the armpit. It was also in this way very nasty every morning half asleep to wait 10 minutes, that our old thermometer needed to make his job while I was looking forward to have finally the right to go to pee. I did what the doctor asked for two months long.
After the phlebotomy there were four different things analysed, and we got the results of three of them in the next two weeks. I`d had the rubeola before, my body was preparing antibodies against the illness, what is strewed by cats and the “I-don’t know-average” is normal, just like expected.
I took up the thermometer method every morning. I wanted to know my ovulation times. But at this time, we continued using condoms. That was not the best way to brighten up our sex life, but we knew, we had to wait only until the beginning of December – that wasn’t a high price for a healthy baby.
I found a book with the title “The Infertility Diet: Get Pregnant and Prevent Miscarriage”. I bought it, not if I would need it, only as an interested person. That was an American book, full of horror stories about sterile women and of non-usable food recipes with manioc and other fruits of American Indians, that you can’t buy in Hungary in Central Europe. They said in the book, green peas can make you sterile. Bullshit – I thought to myself, everybody eats green peas, and babies born every day!
I realised, that the thermometer method is bullshit too. At least for me, because the temperatures were just dancing on my chart, and I could not see any tops our downs before or after my ovulation on my planner. On the other hand, it was really awkward to wait every morning after waking up, until the thermometer does its job. I could not move, I could not go to the toilet. I spoke to the doctor, and he declared, that this method is quite old and outdated, so I could quit the measurement with his consent.
Monday, April 6, 2015
I went to visit my gynecologist. I brought Ádám with me, after I had convincing him I swale the pill, then, immediately, not waiting until the wedding day.
“Nobody gets pregnant right away” I told to him, even though, of course I was sure, that I would be pregnant right away. Nobody love children more, than I did, who should get pregnant faster than me?!
“We would like to have a baby” I said to the doctor and felt my eyes, after he had asked us to sit down in his office. I felt myself give a very adult, serious statement.
“How long have you been trying?” the doctor asked.
“Well, uuh I took the last pill yesterday” I admitted and I blushed. He obviously thinks, that I am overdoing it. But I just wanted to do it right. I took, what the tv doctors said about the folic acid seriously, that you have to take it before you are already pregnant and about all the important medical examinations and protective measures. They could very likely prevent a lot of terrible things. Like always, I wanted to be a brave girl and complete my task.
The doctor warned us – what I already knew from the books – that after left the pill, it would be well advised to prevent with an another method, for example with condoms, because to get pregnant in this period could be dangerous. He also explained the main points of the `thermometer method`.
Of course, I could not allow so few words about it and asked a lot of silly questions about the risks and pregnancy vitamins. I asked how it was with cats or rubeola?Ádám played his part too, and asked some questions, all of them could be answered though by me, from my medical books.
I got the papers for blood and water tests and the doctor shook our hands and said `Best wishes` to us.
And life went on. Anikó, a girl, who had been with me in a German language course 7 years earlier, phoned me. She was 18 and I was 19 then. At this time, I had heard from my friend Zsuzsa, that you could learn a language with the help of the jobless center for free. I never meet Anikó again, except once, when we had run into each other on the tram. Later, when I wanted to make a dressmaker business, and I had sent a few letter to my acquaintances, I sent one for her. She was a corpulent girl, who would have had some problems to find new suits for herself in the stores.
At the end of this summer, she phoned me, and asked me to make her wedding dress. I said yes and wanted to get nothing just an invitation to her wedding. I wanted to be a nice friend.
In the next two month, I invested a lot of time, that Anikó would be a beautiful bride. I even went to help by buying the gloves in a special store, in the middle of nowhere.The wedding was at the beginning of September, and Anikó was prettier than ever. I was proud of myself.