As most women who experience infertility, I assumed that it would be a cakewalk, so at 36, my husband and I decided it was time. I assumed that if there was anything wrong, it could be fixed and ultimately, I would have that child I so longed for. I spoke with my OB/GYN, I did the temperature charts, was told all looked well, and was finally referred onto an RE. I ran the gamut on ART; the timing, the testing, the probing, the excruciating waits; month after month after month. After two failed IUIs, I was told I needed surgery for fibroids, most of whom have had successful pregnancies without acknowledging the tumors. I decided it was time to change REs, and begin the whole bloody process again‚the timing, the testing, the probing, the excruciating waits.

 

After another two failed IUIs, and what was now being called “unexplained infertility,” this RE, too, said that the open myomectomy was a necessary evil. So, now the count is three out of four docs telling me to have the procedure, so I did‚which meant four months of Lupron and six months of recovery, 10 months of no baby; not even trying.

Uneventful, but again, I should now be fixed, right? An attempted IVF cancelled due to lack of follicles. At this point, I am being told that we could try another, but if the next was cancelled, this doc was also finished with me unless I opted to go with donor eggs. The pressure was on, and lo and behold, a second cancelled IVF. Twelve vials of drugs per day for 8 days only to be told that my body is producing nothing. Looking at this paragraph, it's astounding to me that I am covering three years worth of ART; three years of my life; three years of undeniable and complete heartbreak that I carried with me on a daily basis.

 

When my second IVF was cancelled, I knew the jig was up; I’d already been told that my eggs were too old and there was nothing he could do for me. I sat in front of my office in tears venting to a very good (and very knowledgeable) friend and I can remember saying “a reproductive endocrinologist is the end all, be all in infertility. If he can’t help me have this baby, who can?” This very good friend asked if I was open minded enough to try “alternatives,” because “you know, there are other things out there than Western medicine.” Whoa, there are? Who’d have thought? I was pondering the donor egg option while searching the internet for an acupuncturist; hopefully, one who specialized in infertility. My feeling was that I was in no hurry to do the donor thing. I would try acupuncture for a spell, and perhaps two or three years down the line, I could opt for the donor route. No rush, you know?

 

Then I found Christie Jordan. I spoke with her, and I spoke with one of her other “hopeless cases,” who happened to be 7 months pregnant when we talked. I made an appointment with Christie. I saw her once a week for four weeks. I was then scheduled to begin seeing her every other week; once around the time of ovulation, and once just prior to, or during menses. As luck would have it, I cancelled my fifth appointment. I was pregnant. The only person who was NOT surprised by this news was Christie, oh, and her other “hopeless case” who had just delivered her baby boy when I called to thank her. Me? Well, sure, you know, you could have knocked me over with a feather. The test was bad, the test was wrong, I waited too long, I didn’t wait long enough. Nope, it was the real deal. I am now the doting mother of a 2-1/2 year old girl who the sun rises and sets upon. I delivered her just after my 40th birthday.

Ironically, when I had my follow-up visit with my RE regarding my last failed IVF, I was pregnant, but did not yet know it. I told him I was taking a break, that I wouldn’t be pushed into a decision about donor eggs just yet and that I wanted to try alternative treatments. The bottom line; I hung on every word my RE said. I bought into the mentality that that my sole chance of having my own baby relied on the Western side of the hemisphere. It wasn’t my sole chance, and it isn’t yours either.

 

When you consider what you may have already put your body through, or what you’re considering putting your body through, you have nothing whatsoever to lose in trying something far less invasive, and far more relaxing. Try it alone, try it in tandem, but try it. It worked for me, and I’m one of those people who, while I always had that positive mental attitude, just assumed it would only happen to other people and I’d never be that lucky. And I was, and continue to be every day when I wake up.  - A.T.