It’s about damn time.

by Kallie Chausse

I am honored to have known my husband, Matt, my entire life, he was the boy next door when I was growing up. It wasn’t until my early 20s that we finally got together. I remember when the word finally had made its way around that we had become a couple, with my late grandmother’s approval, she teased me and said, “It’s about damn time.”

We eloped in 2016 on a beautiful waterfall in Jackson, New Hampshire. Everything felt so right, so perfect, we couldn’t wait to start a family. Everyone else couldn’t wait for us to have kids as well, it would be a continuation of our fairytale love story. It became a constant questioning and teasing of “when will you have kids?”

At first, we just laughed it off as we knew we were trying. Month after month, however, the pressures of feeling like everyone was waiting for our announcement, felt heavier and heavier every time.

About a year and a half later I went to visit my OB-GYN about some pelvic pain that I was experiencing. Could I be pregnant? It had been well over a year since Matt and I had quietly been trying to start a family. I’ll never forget that day. I was sitting there in the office alone, I had just gotten out of work and thought this appointment would be quick. With a negative pregnancy test, my doctor had asked me if we were trying to get pregnant. I stopped and really had focused on the question at hand, were we? Was I doing something wrong? I told her yes and she asked a series of questions, like how long we had been trying and she quickly referred me to a specialist. I left the office lost. I was 24 at the time and didn’t know very much about infertility. What did that mean for my future family?

A few more months went by and I finally had my first appointment with my Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE). Matt and I nervously sat in the doctor’s office. He educated us on some common reasons for infertility and spoke of some tests that we would be doing to hopefully find answers to why we were having such a hard time getting pregnant. Matt was going to do some blood tests and a sperm sample to rule out any male-factor complications. I was going to be doing some ultrasounds, blood work and a procedure called a Hysterosalpingogram (HSG Test). 

We completed the series of tests over the next month. All of Matt’s tests had come back normal. My ultrasounds and HSG test also came back normal. However, my blood work had revealed a key factor: my egg reserve was less than half of what it should be for my age. We talked to the doctor and he diagnosed me with Diminished Ovarian Reserve. Between the new diagnosis and my irregular periods, the chances that Matt and I were to conceive naturally was extremely low. I was absolutely devastated.

We kept the news quiet for a while, trying to process all this overwhelming information. We finally had a diagnosis and some answers, but that somehow doubled the amount of questions that I had. What did all this mean? What were the chances of Matt and I having a family together?

It didn’t help that shortly after our diagnosis, a few different family members and close friends, announced their pregnancies. The reality and weight of our situation was unbearable. I cried a lot. I cried when no one was around. I felt almost ashamed. Why was this happening to me?

All I wanted was to start my family and future with my husband.

I finally broke and decided to post on Facebook about the journey that I was about to embark on. The feedback was very mixed. A lot of people told me I just needed to “relax and it would happen.” On the other hand, I couldn’t believe the amount of people that had reached out to me privately to tell me their story. How they were going through the same thing or knew of someone close to them that had gone down the same road that I was about to begin on. Even my own dentist, who opened up to me while I was getting a routine dentist procedure. He asked if I was on any new medication since the previous year, and when he found out about the infertility medicine that I was taking, he instantly told me his story and his personal journey.

The compassionate support that I was receiving made me feel stronger.

I met with my doctor again a few weeks later to determine the treatment that he believed was best. He suggested taking Clomid (to help me control my cycle and mature eggs) accompanied by an HCG Injection (to make sure I ovulated) and an Intrauterine Insemination (IUI) (to make sure there was sperm to fertilize the egg once I ovulated).

All of this seemed to be assuring, how could this NOT work? However, one month later we learned that it did not work. At the time, I was working 3rd shift, which meant I had to leave work and then go back after the appointment. All the side effects from the medication, the nausea, the hot flashes, the awkward scheduling of the monitoring appointments, the stress and discomfort from all the internal ultrasounds, and the IUI procedure itself, was for nothing.

I can still picture myself the moment I knew what true heartbreak felt like. Shortly after our negative blood test, I had gotten my period. The morning I got it, I was at work. I was in so much pain, I found myself pacing around the bathroom. Assured that something was wrong, I left work and went to a walk-in clinic. I could barely walk, I was in so much pain. The walk-in clinic doctor told me it was just the medications heightening my period symptoms and to take some Advil and get rest. I got myself back up and got ready to go to a baby shower that weekend. 

We jumped right into another treatment cycle, same as before. This time I tried not to be so hard on myself, even with the fault of possibly not having a family on my shoulders. I felt like a failure.

We completed the treatment. We tried to have our hopes up but at that point, I was so depressed that I wasn’t expecting much more than the results that we had from the first time. 

A few weeks later, after all the negative pregnancy tests that I had received two years prior, I finally got the positive pregnancy test that later in my daughter, Violet. 

About a year later, after experiencing a traumatic birth and postpartum depression, the COVID-19 pandemic hit. With the world at disarray and in a complete panic, everything seemed so unsteady. I was afraid, but something told me that I should reconnect with my doctor just to check on things and see where I was at for a second baby. Not that I felt like I was ready to bring another child into the world, especially during a pandemic, but I was worried about my egg reserve since it was already considered low. I was 25 at the time, but I had an ovarian reserve of someone in their 50s. 

I made the appointment and had to go alone, during the pandemic, they weren’t allowing any spouses at appointments. The RE was surprised to see me so soon, but I told him that I wanted to check my numbers again to make sure I was able to have another child. He warned me to prepare myself in case the numbers were lower than they were before and suggested that if they were lower, that I shouldn’t wait much longer to try to conceive again.

When my results came back, my egg reserve had gone down 25% compared to what it was when I tried to get pregnant with Violet. He said that was an extremely fast rate to decline in a year and that I should start trying if I was serious about having another baby. 

It took me a week just to process the news. I was absolutely devastated. I was so grateful for Violet, but all I could think about was giving her a sibling. But this time, the stress and risks would be greater. I struggled with the treatment regimen last time. Now I would have to do it working third shift, during a pandemic, and with a toddler still to take care of. 

We started with the exact same treatment plan as before: Clomid, HCG Injections, and then an IUI. We completed our first cycle, only to end up with a negative test. The grief and PTSD from our first time with Violet was really starting to set in.The wave of emotions was exhausting.

We geared up and were ready to start our second cycle when everything came to a gruesome halt. The timings for these treatments are very particular, you have to take the medications rigorously at specific times, as well as going for ultrasounds for monitoring. I was supposed to start with an ultrasound on day one of my cycle to confirm that I wasn’t pregnant already and to check on the conditions inside my uterus before I started Clomid on cycle day three. My problem? The insurance agent who was handling my claim was on vacation, which meant that my claim to begin my treatment cycle had been overlooked, not giving me the approval to start my ultrasound on cycle day one. I spent the next hour calling everyone that I could and being transferred to anyone to help me get this claim approved that day. All my hard work had caused me to come up empty handed, no approval.

I called the clinic and explained my situation. The nurse on the other line went quiet and told me that there was unfortunately nothing they could do without the approval, I would have to skip this cycle and wait another month to try again. I spent the next five minutes on the phone not saying another word, just sobbing. I didn’t understand what someone’s vacation had to do with me trying to get pregnant. The nurse was so sweet and stayed on the phone with me, even past office hours, just to listen, even though I wasn’t saying much.

She ended up getting my doctor involved and came up with a plan that thankfully saved my cycle. He told me to take five different pregnancy tests to confirm that I wasn’t pregnant and that if they were all negative, I could take the Clomid on cycle day three. A few days later,  my insurance claim was approved.

A few weeks later, I got the positive pregnancy test that resulted in my daughter, Ivy.

Our family is now complete, and to quote my grandmother, it’s about damn time.

I am beyond grateful for my husband Matt for listening to me, holding me when I needed it the most, and for picking me up off the floor when it felt like life was kicking me down. Women are strong. They are resilient and inspiring. Ever since my infertility journey, I’ve wanted to give back to the infertility community, even if it’s just an ear to listen or a hand to hold to help get someone through their toughest days.

Don’t be afraid to reach out for help. I wish I knew about AllPaths Family Building when I was going through my personal journey and all the amazing resources that they provide. Use the resources, ask for a hand to hold during your journey. We are all Infertility Warriors.