C is for Cervical Concrete!

While nothing has been found to explain our infertility, the outcome of my last visit to Dr. Mooney-Smith was more voodoo than science.

I was ordered to have intercourse (presumably with my husband) no more then two hours before my appointment with the good doctor. Not a morning person in the last bit, this meant I had to wake up two hours earlier than normal while trying to look and feel sexy to fit it all in before 'poor Todd' had to leave for work. He of course did not feel put out in the least and so the sun rose with a smile for one of us!

This was all in preparation for a Postcoital Test; done as a last ditch effort to figure out what our big holdup has been. It is not a test that is often performed and is basically the only thing left when everything else checks out normal with both partners. The idea is to check my cervical mucus (CM) after sex to make sure there are sperm present and moving normally. Swabs are taken from several different places both in the vagina and cervix for comparison.

So I was mopped up while slides were prepared for the microscope and taken back to the lab. My doctor gave me a pat on the back for "my" terrific stretchiness (as if it was something i controlled). She quickly ran back to my room within a few minutes beaming - so ecstatic, in fact, that she wanted me to see for myself what she had discovered!

I felt important as I followed her back to the lab, but a bit like a voyeur spying on the little guys. There they were! I was relieved to see so many swimmers in one little area. She counted over 25 with 80% of those being viable! But as hard as they tried to move, they just couldn't....forever stuck in the quicksand that my body produces. What she found was that my CM is more like CC (cervical concrete)!

While this may sound odd to most, I always suspected something awry. It's not something you discuss with your girlfriends - comparing post intercourse messes, that is...and I guess that is why it was easy to believe the first doctor who told us that it was Todd who had 'lazy sperm'. But I 'secretly' knew better. Unfortunately, I did not meet my husband as a virgin and I had experienced that same 'mess' with others after sex. It's like my body not only physically rejected any outside fluids..lol...but made efforts to push it right back out!

So what voodoo do my doc do tell for me to do? Take medicine - have intercourse on my head and do a little dance afterwards. Seriously....

M is for Magnificent

Did I mention that I love my new Gyno?

I lucked out when my finger landed on her name as the meeny to my miney-mo from a list of network providers. Her name is Patricia Mooney-Smith at Heartland Women's Clinic in the NKC Pavillion.

During our first meeting, she glided into my room and the energy around her immediately changed. Her eyes lit up when she spoke. And she she listened - REALLY listened and became increasingly and genuinely excited as I explained to her why I was there. I have convinced myself that it was my circumstance and not the exam she was about to perform that aroused her so.

Once on the gurney with my feet placed stragically aligned to the Betty Boop foot straps - all spread eagle and talking about the warm weather that day like it was the most natural thing to do in front of a total stranger - she exclaimed, "You have a magnificent uterus!". Wow. I may not have fame or fortune in my life, but I have a MAGNIFICENT uterus. It's something I suppose.

Once back in my street clothes and ironically feeling more exposed than ever, she reported all the clinical things to which she is required and gave me orders for testing and explained what each one was for. She then reached over and touched my my hand with pause. "I want to ask you to hang with me for the next three months. We will figure this out together and I want to head into this with all the ammunition I have. Will you hang with me?".

She is also magnificent.