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I got married reasonably late so when we decided to go ahead and plan a baby almost after a year of being wed, we consulted a doctor. I knew there would be hiccups as I have had PCOD for several years. But I never knew that hiccups was a very very mild description of what the next few years would bring in. I was not prepared for the huge rollercoaster ride that we were in for.
I was told that I had a pretty bad case of PCOD. I was told that I could not conceive easily, that I only had a 20% chance at it. I did not care what they said, I thought 20% was good enough and I grabbed it. Being overweight as a result of the PCOD, I was told off by several doctors.
It took me four years. I can actually earmark a beginning and end date to the amount of pain, financial drain, emotional drain, not to mention the drain on the body that my husband and I underwent. For a couple just starting off our lives together, money was obviously not in abundance. My entire salary went towards the treatment, meeting different doctors, various tests, scans, and medicines. I don’t even want to talk about what it was doing to our marriage and my career, that’s a totally different topic of conversation altogether.
A few doctors told me that it was next to impossible. I scoffed at them and walked out. There were no doctors and temples and shlokas that I spared. And then I met this one doctor, who told me to put myself in her hands for a year. I did. She was no less than a messiah for me. Already in her late 70s, I had no idea that she was battling with cancer. Just a few months after overseeing my delivery, she passed on, but not before flushing our lives with all the joy that we had craved for.
Till I met this doctor, I had more home pregnancy kits in my drawer than I did clothes. It had become such an obsession for me that I would get up every single morning to check for those two lines on the stick. Facing a normal day after seeing just one line was becoming traumatic. Plus all those questions from family!
After various rounds of tests, FSH studies, and medicines, the kind doctor started me on several rounds of IUIs. Miraculously, I conceived on the very first one. I cannot describe how I felt when I actually saw two lines on the home pregnancy kit that morning. It was a life changing moment for us. We were delirious and in my elation, we started off with our baby shopping as well. The air was rife with beautiful plans. And then I miscarried. I went back to my messiah who held me close and cried with me. Two more IUIs and two more miscarriages later, I was so ready to give up and look for other options. But she was the one person who gave me the strength to get up and say, “One more time”. I gave it another chance. One more IUI and then we would have to look at IVF, she said.
Two years later and three early miscarriages (three IUIs) later, I finally gave birth to my little baby doll after the fourth IUI. Pregnancy, though beautiful, was spent in apprehension and when I almost lost my little one at 7 months to PIH, it was the same doctor who held my hand in the critical care before the emergency caesarean and said, “You will have her. Have no doubt about that”. I did. She came out, my beautiful little cherub, my angel, and my life changed completely.
God has always been very merciful. I had another surprise package a few years later, another beautiful girl. PCOD has been long forgotten. To me it is just a word, a crutch that I used to say that I could not fight hard enough. I am glad I fought that battle. I have two adorable devils at home who mean the world to my husband and me.