“You aren’t healthy enough to get pregnant.” I couldn’t hide the shock on my face as my mind raced to keep up with what my doctor was telling me. The computer screens on the wall blurred as tears filled my eyes and I realized this wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d expected. It had started with me seeking answers to why I still wasn’t pregnant after 7 months of trying, and I’d never expected to find myself in so deep. I have a 4-year-old daughter, but at 39 years old, I knew I needed to figure out what was going on if I was going to have another baby.
Secondary infertility isn’t something that a lot of people (myself included) know about. I always thought that once you have a child, getting pregnant the next time around was easy. Now I know that not only is secondary infertility extremely common, it’s coupled with a whole set of different challenges that most people don’t consider when thinking about infertility.
My journey to discover what was going on with my health wasn’t linear. I started because of an unrelated injury, a herniated disk in my neck (C5/C6) that left me in excruciating pain and led me into a year of MRIs, physical therapy, steroid injections, and eventually stem cell injections. It was one of the hardest years of my life—and I wanted to better understand why my body didn’t seem to be healing. My physical therapist recommended I see a functional medicine doctor, which I had never heard of before, but I decided to try.
Functional medicine was a new concept to me, and it took some getting used to, as it sits outside of the normal “reactive” US healthcare process. But I knew something was up with my body and my regular doctors had dismissed me, so it seemed like the next logical step. Basically, my new MD didn’t run just a couple of tests based on my symptoms, she ran a litany of tests knowing we’d uncover things that we never expected. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense: Let’s dig in and find out what’s going on. I was nervous, but I was too curious not to move forward.
As the test results started coming in, it became clear that even though I seemed to be healthy, and in many ways I was, my body was struggling. The first test to come back was my blood work that showed extremely high genetic cholesterol. I was immediately sent for a scan of my heart that showed build-up in the “widowmaker” artery, the part of the heart that goes into cardiac arrest without warning. I was urgently transferred to a cardiologist for a full work-up. He explained that my heart was struggling to pump blood and since my condition is genetic and I already led a healthy lifestyle, I would need to start medication immediately and continue for the rest of my life. I felt overwhelmed. My brain immediately started reeling, thinking about what could have happened. I filled the prescription on my way home that day, and within 3 weeks, I had so much more energy. I also had a major sense of relief, knowing that we’d caught this deadly condition early on.
But I still wasn’t myself. I still felt “off”—and my doctor dug deeper. She uncovered E. coli in my gut; high levels of mold in my body; significant vitamin deficiencies that needed to be addressed. But none of these problems were as glaring as my hormonal imbalances. My ability to deal with stress was non-existent, and I had shockingly high cortisol levels. I’d lost so much sleep being a new mom (my daughter had sleep apnea that wasn’t diagnosed until she was 3.5 years old) that I had completely depleted my body. I was operating in a constant state of “fight or flight”, never able to relax or recharge. This was the root of the problem, and my doctor said I had to remedy that before I could even think about seeing a fertility specialist.
But this is where things went in a direction I never expected. My doctor explained that not only did I need to physically deal with my hormonal imbalance by getting proper sleep, taking supplements and supporting my body’s detox processes, she suggested that I had to unpack my childhood trauma and let go of limiting beliefs that were causing me shame, guilt and stress. I was incredulous! To me, it felt so unrelated, but I knew I didn’t have time to question the process. I worked through issues over the course of many sessions with my doctor, read a lot of books (“The Big Leap” by Gay Hendricks was especially insightful), spent time reflecting and most importantly, started to tell my story. The relief was immense and I began to feel noticeably better.
A few months later, I met with a fertility specialist who tested both me and my husband, concluding that we were great candidates for getting pregnant with some help. My cycle still wasn’t regular and was about 90 days long (as opposed to the more typical 20-30 days), which made it almost impossible to track on my own. I started getting blood work done every 2 days (while continuing all my other treatments) and my husband joked that getting pregnant had become my full-time job. After 2 months, we identified an ovulation date, but much to my disappointment, it came and went. I diligently continued my regimen and eventually found myself back on a 30-day cycle one month later. Soon after, we attempted intrauterine insemination (IUI).
We waited a few weeks and sure enough, we had a positive pregnancy test! We were over the moon. But what we didn’t know was that I wasn’t in the clear just yet. My doctor recommended extreme caution–and had a strict set of guidelines for the first trimester. No sweating, no intercourse, no flying in airplanes; a whole list of foods to avoid. I started weekly ultrasounds and blood work every 4 days. My second ultrasound showed a subchorionic hemorrhage and I was put on bed rest until it healed. But it wasn’t all terrible: My daughter cuddled in bed with me, my mother-in-law flew into town to take care of me, and I’ve never appreciated my husband more.
Finally, as we had the final ultrasound of the first trimester, I began to relax. I was nauseous, I was bloated, but I was pregnant!
I share my journey hesitantly, knowing it was so much easier than what other families have been through. But I also know there are a lot of people just like me, who think they’re “healthy” and are struggling to figure out what’s next.
I hope that my experience shines a light in the right direction for someone.
This entire process wasn’t easy and my heart goes out to those who are still struggling. I also hope that by reading my story it might encourage others to share theirs to normalize what so many families are going through. You aren’t alone. And one more thing: trust your gut when it comes to your own body. It’s OK to push an issue, to get another opinion, or to try a new avenue. Who knows, it might just save your life, or help to create a new one, or like in my case… both.
This story is a part of The Motherly Collective contributor network where we showcase the stories, experiences and advice from brands, writers and experts who want to share their perspective with our community. We believe that there is no single story of motherhood, and that every mother’s journey is unique. By amplifying each mother’s experience and offering expert-driven content, we can support, inform and inspire each other on this incredible journey. If you’re interested in contributing to The Motherly Collective please click here.
