Adventures in Gynecology: What Makes Me Unique

Warning: This post contains some very personal information about me. If you are at all uncomfortable with reading about my women's health issues, this would probably be a good post for you to skip. 

Lately, I feel like almost all of the women I know who are close to my age are either pregnant or have just had a baby. In the past 16 months, 18 of my friends and family members have become new moms.
This sudden rush of babies in my life has caused friends and family members to start asking over and over again, "So, when are you and Ryan going to have a baby?"
For most people who have been married almost five years and are still childless, this is a fairly normal question. For me, though, this question hurts a little bit.
April 9, 2011, I thought I was possibly pregnant. Home pregnancy tests were negative, but I had skipped my period and was starting to have signs that many of my pregnant friends had. I had steadily been gaining weight without any reasonable explanation over a few months, my hands and feet became incredibly swollen, I had a strange feeling in my abdomen, I was exhausted all the time and I often felt sick to my stomach. Overall, I just didn't feel well. I was really busy with school at this point in time, and since the pregnancy tests I took all were negative, I decided to wait things out until graduation. I told myself I would go to the doctor the week after graduation if I was still having those symptoms.
On my graduation day in May, I started bleeding. Since every pregnancy test I had taken had been negative, I just assumed that maybe I had miscalculated when things were supposed to start before and went on with my life. Then things got strange.
A month after graduation, I was still bleeding and was in constant pain. My feet were swollen to the point that most of my shoes didn't even fit, and my stomach was so bloated that I was having problems fitting into my clothes. After a lot of pleading from my family and friends, I finally made a doctor appointment.
The doctor gave me both good news and bad news. The good news was that everything I was experiencing had nothing to do with a pregnancy or miscarriage. The bad news was that she didn't have an explanation as to why all of these things were happening to my body. I should have known this doctor wasn't good when I had to plead with her to give me medication to help me stop my bleeding (I bled for over six weeks total before I was finally given medicine to help me stop it. The medicine I was given made me sick to my stomach and had side effects that were almost worse than the problems I originally went in for) and for her to send me for an ultrasound.
Ultrasound day was probably the strangest day I have ever had in my life. Ryan and I checked in at the ultrasound place in Omaha around 1 p.m. By 1:30, the ultrasound tech had a puzzled look on her face and pulled in a supervisor. I was informed that I have not one uterus, but two uteri, and that I only have one kidney. Apparently, I was born with this strange uterine abnormality and without a left kidney, and I lived 25 years without ever knowing it.
My strange ultrasound findings led me to a gynecologist in Omaha, who turned out to be yet another waste of time. Test after test and visit after visit with this doctor led me to a possible diagnosis of interstitial cystitis, but no reason for my abnormal bleeding and continued severe abdominal pain. This doctor was unwilling to listen to me, and I really feel like he blew off my concerns. After months without any answers and continued pain, swelling and weird bleeding, Ryan, my family and I made the decision that I needed to see another doctor.
At the end of August, I made a trip to Minneapolis to see a doctor at the OB/GYN clinic my grandma works for (this is actually the same clinic I now work for, too!). With  my permission, my grandma had shared a lot of what was going on with me with Dr. Haislet, who specialized in endometriosis (sadly, he recently retired in June of this year). He agreed to see me, and after my first appointment, his recommendation was for me to undergo surgery to get an accurate look at what was going on with my body.
September 19, Ryan and my grandma drove me to Abbott Northwestern Hospital in Minneapolis for my first surgery (other than my wisdom teeth). I underwent a laparoscopy, hysteroscopy, D&C and myomectomy. Dr. Haislet found answers to much of what had been going on with me. He found:

• I had four uterine fibroids, two of which were fairly large. It's very possible that these will eventually grow back and that I will have to undergo surgery again to have them removed. It's also possible that more will show up. 
• I definitely have a bicornuate uterus, meaning that instead of one uterus, mine has two separate horns, divided by a septum. However, I only have one cervix (the GYN in Omaha had informed me I had two). This condition occurs in about 0.5 percent of all women in the United States. 
• I have a non-patent left fallopian tube, but have a normal left ovary. This means that my left ovary produces eggs, but they don't have anywhere to go, which often causes me pain. A non-patent tube with a normal ovary is apparently very rare. 

So, what does this all mean for me? First, it means that I'm special and unique. I am one of the one in every 750 people who has been born with only one kidney, and I am one of the 0.5% of women in the United States with a bicornuate uterus. 

Second, it means that, while not impossible, having children will be difficult for me. Because I am unable to release eggs every month like a normal woman, my chances of getting pregnant are reduced by at least 50 percent. If or when I decide to actively start trying to have a child, there is a large chance that I'll have to use an infertility drug, such as Clomid, to help me with producing enough eggs to give me a fighting chance. 

Third, if I ever become pregnant, I will be classified as a high risk pregnancy from day one. Having one kidney means that I will have to be checked regularly to make sure the baby isn't putting too much stress on my kidney. My bicornuate uterus puts me at a higher risk for preterm labor and a breech baby. I am almost guaranteed to have to deliver via C-section if or when I ever have a child. 

Why does the "So, when are you having a baby?" question hurt me? It hurts because, while I have been told that technically I should be able to have a baby, I know that both conceiving a baby and then trying to carry a baby to term is going to be really difficult for me. I'm not going to have the easy time that so many of my friends and family have seemed to have with getting pregnant, and I don't think that many people understand that having a child isn't always simple for everyone. 

I know that this information was personal and probably more than anyone ever wanted to know about me. But, for me, it's important that people know why having children is such a touchy subject with me. I have gone through different phases with dealing with knowing that I have all of these gynecological issues, from being depressed, to being embarrassed, to being almost fascinated and wanting to educate others on these issues. 

I don't know what the future holds for me in this department. I don't know if I will ever be blessed with a child or when that might happen. For now, I'm still working on figuring out some of my medical issues that have remained a mystery, and I am thoroughly enjoying watching my friends and family's children learn and grow into amazing little people. 

Thanks to my family and friends who have been so supportive of me as I have worked on sorting out these medical issues. And thanks to my readers for allowing me to be open with you on this subject.