A Little History

I’ve been putting off writing this bit of history for a while now. Some of it is lack of time and some is just fear of being unable to verbalize it. But, I’m going to try.

In March 1994, my period did not arrive as expected. I was 17 years old. I had been pretty consistent since I first got my period. It came every 30ish days and once every few months, it would come at 45 days. Compared to others I knew, it was ideal. Lasted like 3 or 4 days with no cramps. Maybe some backaches and maybe an upset tummy. But that was the extent of my symptoms. I was just like my mother in that sense. Same amount of days, same types of PMS symptoms, even a similar age when we first got it.

At first, when I missed a few months, I didn’t think to worry. I would just make sure I tested myself and let it go. By the time July/August came around, I started worrying. I went to the doctor and they gave me Provera to induce a period. It was like spotting for two days and gone. I was to leave for college in September so I wasn’t very worried. I thought it might have been stress from graduation and college even. September moves into October and so on. When I went home in December, I realized something was really wrong with me. Since March, the only sign of a period I had was induced. I went to the doctor again. I had tons of tests done. Regular tests as well as hormonal level testing. I’ll never forget what the doctor told me that day. She told me that all my levels were normal, that something in my brain was not triggering ovulation for some reason. To this day, those words scare the shit out of me. After all, if you don’t ovulate, how will you ever get pregnant?

It’s been almost 12 years since then. That January is when I got on birth control pills for the first time to “regulate” myself. Over the years, so much has happened. So many tests done. So many times I tried to get off the pill to see if my period would come back all of a sudden. So many pills changed (and of course, weight gained because of them). Anytime I would ask the doctors if it would be difficult for me to get pregnant with my ovulation issues, I would get the same response, “We won’t know until you’re ready to try.”

The last time I tried the whole “get off the pill and wait for my period” was a bit different. I think it was back in 2001 if I recall right. I got off the pill and waited. I waited to see if it would be different this time. About two months went by. Then, for the first time in 7 years, I saw spotting. I saw spotting that was not “induced” at all. No birth control, no Provera. Just me. I did end up back on birth control to, once again, regulate myself. But I had a bit more hope.

So yesterday I bought my last pack of birth control pills. I feel like I’m walking an on emotional razor’s edge. 12 years is a lot of time to have deep seated fears. Then of course there’s the fear that you get from maturity. Knowing how much a child can change you and your life. There’s the fear born of selfishness. There’s the fear born of insecurity at being a good parent. For the past few years I thought the fear of not being able to have a child had abated quite a bit. And yes, it definitely is not as crippling as it had once been. But it’s a bit bigger then I realized. It’s bigger today then it was yesterday. It’s bigger since I’ve now attempted to verbalize it. Ah, this is why I had been putting this post off…