Don't read this if you don't want to read a woman rant and be bitter.

I had my appointment with the Endo yesterday. It had been over six months since I'd seen him last. I had left his off that day (in November) SO optimistic. He had felt so strongly, and had made me feel so certain, that I could get pregnant on my own (with out medication), and BY my next appointment. I was on cloud 9 when I left his office that day. Smiley. Friendly. Excited. He said I could cancel my follow up with him if I was pregnant. And I really felt like I would cancel that appointment. As the date approached and as I sat in the lab to have my blood drawn, I knew, I'm not going to be able to cancel this appointment. I already knew what the blood work would show, elevated testosterone, etc... I knew, and yet that little tiny part of me held on to the shred of hope that I was wrong. Maybe I really had tricked my body taking the birth control for so long. Maybe, JUST MAYBE, the time on the pill had made my body decide that it wanted to have more estrogen and less testosterone. Maybe I was CURED!

Nope.

Not even close. My testosterone level was not only elevated, it was DOUBLED; higher than it was pre-Yasmin. He said that I needed to think about seeing someone at a fertility clinic (as he does not prescribe the medication I will need). He said he would like to start me on a medication for insulin resistance (or whatever it is exactly), though not a medication that will aid ovulation (again, since he does not prescribe that).

So, this is where I am in my baby race. Apparently I'm not even in the race. Apparently, I'm sitting back, with my feet kicked up, watching everybody else race.

Apparently my ovaries belong in special Ed. They're too busy not doing anything to be bothered by making a family.

I'm sure my cousin who just gave birth will get knocked up again before me, hell, I'm sure her daughter will get knocked up before I do.