This morning I rolled out of bed at the unholy hour of 6am to beat the LA traffic to my first appointment at our RE’s (Reproductive Endocrinologist) office. One Starbucks coffee, 16,000 cars in LA traffic and an hour and a half later I was sweetly sitting in the front lobby waiting to be called.
Why am I here you might ask?
Oh, well I’m here for a pretty disgusting appointment actually. And because I’m a lady I will spare you the details of WHY it’s a disgusting appointment and just jump right to “they’re checking my follicles to get a baseline of what my ovaries are producing.” Basically they want to know if my ovaries (on their own) are producing little healthy grapes or dry shriveled little raisins.
I was a little bit of a nervous pervous going into this appointment because I’ve been harboring this secret fear that we might find out that I TOO would somehow (in a cruel twist of fate) be infertile. A severely tipped uterus perhaps, or maybe a bum ovary or just maybe the dreaded……..endometriosis.
The fantastic/amazing/good/jumping for joy news is that I have a “textbook” reproductive system. Thank you genetics!
My uterus looked like, well, a uterus. And my little ovaries showed 12 follicles on the left and 16 on the right. The sweet little ultrasound lady said anything above 10 was considered excellent. I’ve always been an obsessive over achiever. Ovaries 28 – Infertility 0.
So now that THAT is out of the way we now move onto the HSG. I’ve scheduled this for next Tuesday and have already convinced myself that I. WILL. NOT. PANIC. I will forget all the horror stories I have heard and pretend that I’m in my happy place with Edward Norton and my power animal.
Incidentally, my power animal is a Sasquatch.
Wish me luck and be sure to tell me how easy an HSG is!