... but it's still an empty womb for me.
The last couple of weeks I have been trying to decide what to do with this blog. Tonight, I got an answer I never expected. When I first started blogging, I had no idea really what it would become. All I knew was that I was going through infertility alone, but I knew I wasn't the only woman struggling with it. My mission then was two fold: find others who were fighting the same battle I was, and help anyone else going through what I was any way I could. My blog was and still is open to everyone. Over the years I've passed out the URL to friends, family, and coworkers because when I moved away from my home state, it also turned into a way for everyone back home to keep up on the going's on in my life. So it then served a third purpose. I then did something I wish I hadn't, but won't change now; I made my blog part of my Fa.cebook page. In doing so, I gave access to it to everyone who was on my friend list, and let's face it, we all have "friends" on FB that we really aren't friends with. For me it was that girl from high school with whom I was always competing in band over who was the better trumpet player. She now has access to my blog simply because she was ballsy enough to friend me on FB after all these years, and I am a big advocate for let bygones be bygones.
But tonight I am struggling with something I don't want all of my real life world to know. I am struggling with the fact that my period decided to show up three days early. Okay, it's not full on bleeding, but it's spotting, and that is the pregnancy death sentence in my world. Implantation bleeding does not happen to me. So spotting + cramps = BFN. That's not the part I don't want to share. I don't want everyone out there to know that right now, in this moment, I am so incredibly bitter. I am angry. I am so hurt. I hate this stupid broken scarred uterus of mine, and right now all I want to do is punch the daylights out of it. I want to snuff the life out of that stupid glimmer of hope that keeps nagging me in the back of my mind. Right now, I just want to wallow.
Yes, this is very unlike me, and part of it could be attributed to my stepping down another 5 mg on my antidepressants. I usually time the step down better so that it doesn't coincide with this time of the month for this very reason. However, I shouldn't be experiencing withdrawal symptoms yet.
Normally this situation would happen and I would take an hour or two to feel sad, and then I would let in all of those hopeful, positive thoughts. "We'll try again next month." "You're not really bleeding yet, maybe, just maybe it is implantation bleeding. I mean, your uterus has been really easily irritated since the surgery and spotting isn't uncommon from the slightest things. It really could be implantation bleeding. The fat lady hasn't sung yet." "I know it will work eventually."
Tonight, my bitter infertile knocked all of those hopeful thoughts down into the dust and proceeded to pummel them. "Sure we'll try again next month... and the next, and the next, and the next..." "It isn't implantation bleeding. You're an idiot. It didn't work." "Get the hint, you're broken."
I just want to break down and cry.
Then I think of all of the time I am wasting by focusing on any of this at all. How much I am missing of my daughter because I am too busy entertaining any of these thoughts in the first place. Tonight when I put her to bed, she giggled and wanted to play games, but all I could do was give her a half smile, tell her I loved her, and kiss her goodnight. I felt even more horrible in that moment, if that was possible.
I want to give her a sibling so badly. I am afraid I won't be able to. What kind of toll is my fight going to have on her if I can't let it go?
Tonight when my husband got home, for whatever reason, he decided not to be nice, despite the fact that we had been emailing back and forth all day and I had told him I had officially declared war on this day because of the way it started out (a story for another day). This was before I started spotting and before the spotting increased and went from brown to red. So when he was rude, I politely told him I didn't need that right now. Then I let him in to what I was feeling. I started to cry. He just sat there, focused on what he was doing, and ignored me. Ouch. Take three hits, one for him, one for me, and one for our relationship.
I realize he is tired of this. But guess what? So am I! He is my companion. I need him to support me every devastating month whether he is sick of it or not. This whole fight hurts me. And when he shuts me out like that, I feel so alone. I grieve alone. The best part is, he tried to go about the rest of the night like nothing had happened, which made it all worse. It makes me feel like he is saying my feelings are not justified, yet he has gone through this whole fight with me. They damn well are justified! It's not like I'm Anna Du.ggar crying because I didn't get pregnant within the first three months of trying. I have a history of infertility, severe endometriosis, PCOS, and now have a very scarred uterus. There is plenty of reason for me to worry about my ability to conceive.
Right now, I really hate that voice that says, "well at least you have your daughter." I am so grateful for my daughter, and having her definitely helps make these moments easier to bear. But right now, my hurt is so raw. It is yet another reminder that I am still broken. Always broken. A tourniquet can only do so much to stop blood gushing from a wound.
Yes, I know I will get back on my feet sooner than later. I will shortly be back to my optimistic, happy self, ready to take on the next month. I will chart out a new diet that will help with conception, get my fertility monitor ready, and all that jazz. But right now, I just want to wallow in my pity and grief. I want to wrap it around me like a blanket, and then roll around in it like mud. I want to feel it with my finger tips and inhale it's bitter scent. Because if I don't do this, I can't move forward. I need to not bottle it up. I need to feel it and let it out.
Infertility really sucks. Being an infertile sucks even more. But fear sucks even more than that.
Showing posts with label Infertility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Infertility. Show all posts
Friday, December 3, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Another New Branch
I have decided this blog is going to become my TMI outlet. Sometimes I feel the need to talk about things that everyone IRL doesn't really need to know, but I also want to know if anyone else in the blogosphere has had these issues, or I want to document them for future just in case I ever wonder if these things have happened before.
So, on with the TMI!
Okay, we all know I had surgery 5 months ago to repair a weekend spot in my uterus due to a uterine rupture when my daughter was born, right? Well, if you didn't you do now. If you didn't know that, I am also going to tell you that weakened spot was the result of a uterine septum removal gone bad a few years ago.
Anyway. So occasionally, I will spot randomly. I THINK it is because that spot is still really mad. Like if I have a particularly obstinate BM, it isn't unlikely for me to spot a little afterward. If things get a little too hot and heavy in the bedroom, it also isn't unlikely for me to spot a bit afterward.
Six days ago I got my positive OPK. DH and I had been doing the BD since the day before, and for three days following. So for four days, we BD'ed. The first three days I was fine afterward. After the fourth day, I bled and spotted. No biggie. But then I kept spotting. And kept spotting. And it wasn't just a little bit. It was like the kind of spotting some of us get the day before AF rears. The kind that makes you think it might be time to start riding the cotton pony.
I am now 5dpo and still spotting. Yesterday was the worst. I seriously started to wonder if AF was going to rear really, really early. I didn't realize it until later, but I was so concerned, I was wound tighter than a banjo string. It wasn't until I snapped at my husband yesterday night and then broke down into tears that I realized just how much it was bothering me.
I have been trying to calm myself down (and so has my husband) by saying that maybe things were a little too much that last night we tried, and maybe we just really pissed off that repair site. I don't want to call my doctor (either of them) to ask if this is okay and normal because I feel like they will think I'm overreacting or being silly. That and I don't want to be that patient. Especially since I just went in for a u/s the week before last to see if we could figure out why my last cycle was so wonky. My doctor just called me back with those results on Thursday and I bombarded her with questions. It turns out, she thinks I might have ovulated off both sides this month. Wouldn't that be nice? Two chances!
I have also come to the realization that if I do get pregnant any time soon, I will most likely spot throughout the pregnancy because of a cranky uterus. When I think about that, it makes me wonder if I really am physically healed enough and ready for a pregnancy, so maybe I should call my doctors and ask them.
Sometimes trying to get pregnant month after month after month just plain sucks. Before you take that the wrong way, realize I had to try for a couple of years, complete with treatments, before I got my daughter, so I am no newbie to this TTC thing. I'm not one of those silly women who cries because I tried for three whole months and didn't get pregnant. I am an infertile woman who is crying because we weren't allowed to even think about trying for another baby until 3 months ago and now my body decides to be all jacked up again. Grrrr!
At any rate, I should find out tomorrow whether or not I even ovulated this month. For some reason the OPKs I've been using for the last two cycles are just as stupid as my last two cycles. Since I wasn't completely 100% positive on that "as dark as" line this month, I did a progesterone test on CD21. I only have 7 more days in my TWW--if I ovulated, that is. If I'm not pregnant, I will consider telling my dr's about what happened this month, as tomorrow will be the 6th day I've been spotting.
Infertility sucks!
So, on with the TMI!
Okay, we all know I had surgery 5 months ago to repair a weekend spot in my uterus due to a uterine rupture when my daughter was born, right? Well, if you didn't you do now. If you didn't know that, I am also going to tell you that weakened spot was the result of a uterine septum removal gone bad a few years ago.
Anyway. So occasionally, I will spot randomly. I THINK it is because that spot is still really mad. Like if I have a particularly obstinate BM, it isn't unlikely for me to spot a little afterward. If things get a little too hot and heavy in the bedroom, it also isn't unlikely for me to spot a bit afterward.
Six days ago I got my positive OPK. DH and I had been doing the BD since the day before, and for three days following. So for four days, we BD'ed. The first three days I was fine afterward. After the fourth day, I bled and spotted. No biggie. But then I kept spotting. And kept spotting. And it wasn't just a little bit. It was like the kind of spotting some of us get the day before AF rears. The kind that makes you think it might be time to start riding the cotton pony.
I am now 5dpo and still spotting. Yesterday was the worst. I seriously started to wonder if AF was going to rear really, really early. I didn't realize it until later, but I was so concerned, I was wound tighter than a banjo string. It wasn't until I snapped at my husband yesterday night and then broke down into tears that I realized just how much it was bothering me.
I have been trying to calm myself down (and so has my husband) by saying that maybe things were a little too much that last night we tried, and maybe we just really pissed off that repair site. I don't want to call my doctor (either of them) to ask if this is okay and normal because I feel like they will think I'm overreacting or being silly. That and I don't want to be that patient. Especially since I just went in for a u/s the week before last to see if we could figure out why my last cycle was so wonky. My doctor just called me back with those results on Thursday and I bombarded her with questions. It turns out, she thinks I might have ovulated off both sides this month. Wouldn't that be nice? Two chances!
I have also come to the realization that if I do get pregnant any time soon, I will most likely spot throughout the pregnancy because of a cranky uterus. When I think about that, it makes me wonder if I really am physically healed enough and ready for a pregnancy, so maybe I should call my doctors and ask them.
Sometimes trying to get pregnant month after month after month just plain sucks. Before you take that the wrong way, realize I had to try for a couple of years, complete with treatments, before I got my daughter, so I am no newbie to this TTC thing. I'm not one of those silly women who cries because I tried for three whole months and didn't get pregnant. I am an infertile woman who is crying because we weren't allowed to even think about trying for another baby until 3 months ago and now my body decides to be all jacked up again. Grrrr!
At any rate, I should find out tomorrow whether or not I even ovulated this month. For some reason the OPKs I've been using for the last two cycles are just as stupid as my last two cycles. Since I wasn't completely 100% positive on that "as dark as" line this month, I did a progesterone test on CD21. I only have 7 more days in my TWW--if I ovulated, that is. If I'm not pregnant, I will consider telling my dr's about what happened this month, as tomorrow will be the 6th day I've been spotting.
Infertility sucks!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Do You Know Why You're Infertile?
Sometimes I get asked by people in my life if I know what caused my infertility. I always tell them yes. When I say yes, I don't just mean that I have moderate endometriosis or that I have PCOS, but that I know what caused it.
My parents were two very fertile people. My dad managed to get my mother pregnant on their honeymoon. Yep, the classic "Honeymoon Baby." Of course everyone who liked a bit of juicy gossip waited to see when my mother delivered my brother so they could speculate and spread rumors that she was pregnant before my parents were married. My brother was two weeks early. No, my mother was not pregnant on her wedding day. No, my parents did not have premarital relations. My mother is what my dad likes to call "a fertile turtle."
So how could two very fertile folks create not only infertile offspring, but one who had an extensive case of endometriosis by the time she was 27? I'll tell you how, and it happened before I was even thought of by my parents. Before they even met. Back when they were just kids themselves.
I remember in elementary school reading about how the aftermath of the ato.m bomb dropped on Hiros.hima back in WWII had not only affected those who were alive when it was dropped, but their offspring were as well. I remember reading that the offspring of those who were alive ended up with cancer and had infertility problems. Even back then it broke my heart and made me angry as I read the story of a girl who died in a hospital in Hiros.hima at my age because she had gotten cancer from that bomb, even though she was conceived years afterward. I was so angry that Americans had done something that affected the health and fertility of the generations that came after the day En.ola G.ay dropped "Lit.tle Boy." But most of all, the fact that it affected their fertility outraged me. For months I fumed to anyone who would listen.
Shortly after I was diagnosed with endo, I found out that four of my female cousins born by my father's siblings were also having issues. One had undergone IVF, and one was just starting on Ch.lomid. I subsequently found out that one of them had been positively diagnosed with endo and had already had two laparoscopies to clean it out. In addition to them, I already knew conception was no easy feat for my sister.
One day my dad called me and told me he knew why all of us girls were infertile. When he was a boy, the government was doing a.tom bomb testing near where he grew up. He had read a study that reported the offspring of children, who are also known as "Downwinders," had a very high incidence of endometriosis. Come to find out, my mother was also a Downwinder, she just wasn't exposed at as high of a rate as my dad was.
I find it ironic that I felt such rage reading about Lit.tle B.oy making people in Japan infertile. I always knew in my heart I would have a hard time having children, but perhaps on the day I read that, I knew deep down the exact same thing was going to be my prevention too.
What I find most sad of all is that if we do go on to conceive, we pass on the code for what caused our infertility. On top of that, there are so many man-made chemicals these days that are putting children into puberty long before they should. I absolutely worry about what I passed on to my daughter. But I do find comfort in the fact that I can be proactive about ensuring I don't introduce unnecessary toxins into her by feeding her organic foods.
This isn't meant to be a Green post by any means. It is more of a post about how I am angry my fertility was taken from me before I even existed, YEARS before I existed. I am angry about the fact that I grew up knowing I would have a hard time getting pregnant. In fact, I remember the day I got my period. I was sooo excited, but that excitement was quickly smashed by the thought, "This doesn't mean you can get pregnant or have kids. You're still going to have a hard time." That day is still very vivid in my memory. I had no reason to think that either. I just knew.
I just pray that I am able to be proactive about saving my daughter from the same heartache I went through to bring her into this world. It is too bad I know why I'm infertile and can't do a dang thing about it.
My parents were two very fertile people. My dad managed to get my mother pregnant on their honeymoon. Yep, the classic "Honeymoon Baby." Of course everyone who liked a bit of juicy gossip waited to see when my mother delivered my brother so they could speculate and spread rumors that she was pregnant before my parents were married. My brother was two weeks early. No, my mother was not pregnant on her wedding day. No, my parents did not have premarital relations. My mother is what my dad likes to call "a fertile turtle."
So how could two very fertile folks create not only infertile offspring, but one who had an extensive case of endometriosis by the time she was 27? I'll tell you how, and it happened before I was even thought of by my parents. Before they even met. Back when they were just kids themselves.
I remember in elementary school reading about how the aftermath of the ato.m bomb dropped on Hiros.hima back in WWII had not only affected those who were alive when it was dropped, but their offspring were as well. I remember reading that the offspring of those who were alive ended up with cancer and had infertility problems. Even back then it broke my heart and made me angry as I read the story of a girl who died in a hospital in Hiros.hima at my age because she had gotten cancer from that bomb, even though she was conceived years afterward. I was so angry that Americans had done something that affected the health and fertility of the generations that came after the day En.ola G.ay dropped "Lit.tle Boy." But most of all, the fact that it affected their fertility outraged me. For months I fumed to anyone who would listen.
Shortly after I was diagnosed with endo, I found out that four of my female cousins born by my father's siblings were also having issues. One had undergone IVF, and one was just starting on Ch.lomid. I subsequently found out that one of them had been positively diagnosed with endo and had already had two laparoscopies to clean it out. In addition to them, I already knew conception was no easy feat for my sister.
One day my dad called me and told me he knew why all of us girls were infertile. When he was a boy, the government was doing a.tom bomb testing near where he grew up. He had read a study that reported the offspring of children, who are also known as "Downwinders," had a very high incidence of endometriosis. Come to find out, my mother was also a Downwinder, she just wasn't exposed at as high of a rate as my dad was.
I find it ironic that I felt such rage reading about Lit.tle B.oy making people in Japan infertile. I always knew in my heart I would have a hard time having children, but perhaps on the day I read that, I knew deep down the exact same thing was going to be my prevention too.
What I find most sad of all is that if we do go on to conceive, we pass on the code for what caused our infertility. On top of that, there are so many man-made chemicals these days that are putting children into puberty long before they should. I absolutely worry about what I passed on to my daughter. But I do find comfort in the fact that I can be proactive about ensuring I don't introduce unnecessary toxins into her by feeding her organic foods.
This isn't meant to be a Green post by any means. It is more of a post about how I am angry my fertility was taken from me before I even existed, YEARS before I existed. I am angry about the fact that I grew up knowing I would have a hard time getting pregnant. In fact, I remember the day I got my period. I was sooo excited, but that excitement was quickly smashed by the thought, "This doesn't mean you can get pregnant or have kids. You're still going to have a hard time." That day is still very vivid in my memory. I had no reason to think that either. I just knew.
I just pray that I am able to be proactive about saving my daughter from the same heartache I went through to bring her into this world. It is too bad I know why I'm infertile and can't do a dang thing about it.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Latest and Greatest
Hello friends, I am about to do something I have not yet done on this blog, and that is give you the address to my primary blog. Why, you ask? Well, because I feel my current journey has made it necessary to provide access to both blogs so I don't have to write the same thing about my battle on each blog. This blog was never intended to be my battle with baby making, but rather my battle with trying to rediscover myself and get my feet firmly planted back in the ground after all of the ups and downs life had handed me since my daughter was born.
What I think I will do is days where I have info about what is going on, I will do a write up on the primary blog, and then post a link to it from here, just in case any of you want to stay in on that loop. I'll still talk about what is going on in this blog, it just won't be as detailed. The only thing I ask is that you not leave comments on that blog that can in any way direct a reader from that blog to this one. In return, I promise not to post on both blogs in the same day. We'll give it a try and see how it goes.
The primary blog can be found here.
Now that we have that out of the way, I will give you a quick update of what has been going on. I went in for an MRI this past weekend that revealed that my endometriosis is back. I have new growths, and if I heard the radiologist correctly, they were around or near my ovaries. I know there were growths removed from that area during my laparoscopy back in 2007. I wasn't surprised to hear it was back, but sad and disappointed. It seems like it has come back way too fast. The radiologist also said she thinks my septum has grown back a little. Once again, I am in that lovely category of things that rarely happen. Hoorah! Don't feel bad. I don't. I just take it all with a grain of salt these days. Like I said, I think my days of being really upset are behind me now.
If you want to read a really cool story about my MRI, check out the primary blog. It will explain partly why...
I have decide I am going to have the surgery and get pregnant!
I am only doing this one more time. I just feel like I have to, and while many people ask me not to, I have to go with what feels right. I know all of the risks, and I know that my pregnancy will be very carefully monitored. My husband says he will support me no matter what I decide, and that we will take things as they come. I spent most of today feeling like we needed to hurry up and do this because we are running out of time. My reproductive organs just don't want to work on their own, so we'll force them to give us one more child, and then they can take the rest of my life off.
All of the blessings that have come about by this have not been lost on me. One of the biggest is that I can now be on my antidepressants for the 9 months my doctor recommended before going off of them. I really love those silly pills because they make handling all of this craziness so much easier. I don't go off the deep end like I would have otherwise, and I bounce back really quickly. Today you would think I had the sun shinning out of my ass as I walked out of the hospital after my MRI. I couldn't stop smiling the whole way home. My husband thought I was a freak when I told him with a huge grin on my face that my endo is back. I told him I couldn't help it, and that it was the stupid pills. Eh, whatever. They make me feel good. They're my friends.
The next step from here is go back to see my new RE here in town to discuss the MRI results, then visit the RE at the May.o Clinic, then surgery, then a couple months off to let things heal, and then TTC #2!
I hope you all had a great weekend. I can't wait to catch up on blogs tomorrow. :)
What I think I will do is days where I have info about what is going on, I will do a write up on the primary blog, and then post a link to it from here, just in case any of you want to stay in on that loop. I'll still talk about what is going on in this blog, it just won't be as detailed. The only thing I ask is that you not leave comments on that blog that can in any way direct a reader from that blog to this one. In return, I promise not to post on both blogs in the same day. We'll give it a try and see how it goes.
The primary blog can be found here.
Now that we have that out of the way, I will give you a quick update of what has been going on. I went in for an MRI this past weekend that revealed that my endometriosis is back. I have new growths, and if I heard the radiologist correctly, they were around or near my ovaries. I know there were growths removed from that area during my laparoscopy back in 2007. I wasn't surprised to hear it was back, but sad and disappointed. It seems like it has come back way too fast. The radiologist also said she thinks my septum has grown back a little. Once again, I am in that lovely category of things that rarely happen. Hoorah! Don't feel bad. I don't. I just take it all with a grain of salt these days. Like I said, I think my days of being really upset are behind me now.
If you want to read a really cool story about my MRI, check out the primary blog. It will explain partly why...
I have decide I am going to have the surgery and get pregnant!
I am only doing this one more time. I just feel like I have to, and while many people ask me not to, I have to go with what feels right. I know all of the risks, and I know that my pregnancy will be very carefully monitored. My husband says he will support me no matter what I decide, and that we will take things as they come. I spent most of today feeling like we needed to hurry up and do this because we are running out of time. My reproductive organs just don't want to work on their own, so we'll force them to give us one more child, and then they can take the rest of my life off.
All of the blessings that have come about by this have not been lost on me. One of the biggest is that I can now be on my antidepressants for the 9 months my doctor recommended before going off of them. I really love those silly pills because they make handling all of this craziness so much easier. I don't go off the deep end like I would have otherwise, and I bounce back really quickly. Today you would think I had the sun shinning out of my ass as I walked out of the hospital after my MRI. I couldn't stop smiling the whole way home. My husband thought I was a freak when I told him with a huge grin on my face that my endo is back. I told him I couldn't help it, and that it was the stupid pills. Eh, whatever. They make me feel good. They're my friends.
The next step from here is go back to see my new RE here in town to discuss the MRI results, then visit the RE at the May.o Clinic, then surgery, then a couple months off to let things heal, and then TTC #2!
I hope you all had a great weekend. I can't wait to catch up on blogs tomorrow. :)
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Slow Progress
First of all I want to say I am really behind on blogs again. I have so much going on and not enough hours in the day to do it all. My work has been suffering, and it did not escape the notice of my PM, so now I will be scrambling to get back on his good side the next few weeks.
I issued the call for specialists on my primary blog and a few of my readers referred me to the Ma.yo Clinic's infertility department. I made a call on Friday and spent a lot of time on hold as they tracked down the doctor who would best be able to handle my case and gave him the skinny. Long story short, he wants to see my records to determine if he can help us before he tells us to fly out there. That in and of itself tells me if he can, I am in good hands. He isn't just a money grubbing doctor who will tell me he can cast a spell on my uterus and make it whole.
Sadly, I know getting my records from my current doctor's office could take a week or more. I am hoping if I let them know the situation I can get them to expedite it, as my fertile life is on hold until Dr. G can review them.
The one good thing is that I do still have an appointment with a specialist here on the 23rd, but unless he tells me something he didn't already tell me through my OB, he can't help us. He thinks he can, but he can't. We're not okay with him just slicing, dicing, and sewing things back together. We want him to not only minimize the scar tissue left behind, but to put in some kind of barrier that will prevent eggs from implanting into it again. Maybe he can do that. We'll just have to wait and see.
Anyway, that's all I have for tonight. I'm exhausted from spending the day at an Irish festival and I have blogger's block. Hopefully I will catch up on blogs soon and have something more interesting to write about.
I issued the call for specialists on my primary blog and a few of my readers referred me to the Ma.yo Clinic's infertility department. I made a call on Friday and spent a lot of time on hold as they tracked down the doctor who would best be able to handle my case and gave him the skinny. Long story short, he wants to see my records to determine if he can help us before he tells us to fly out there. That in and of itself tells me if he can, I am in good hands. He isn't just a money grubbing doctor who will tell me he can cast a spell on my uterus and make it whole.
Sadly, I know getting my records from my current doctor's office could take a week or more. I am hoping if I let them know the situation I can get them to expedite it, as my fertile life is on hold until Dr. G can review them.
The one good thing is that I do still have an appointment with a specialist here on the 23rd, but unless he tells me something he didn't already tell me through my OB, he can't help us. He thinks he can, but he can't. We're not okay with him just slicing, dicing, and sewing things back together. We want him to not only minimize the scar tissue left behind, but to put in some kind of barrier that will prevent eggs from implanting into it again. Maybe he can do that. We'll just have to wait and see.
Anyway, that's all I have for tonight. I'm exhausted from spending the day at an Irish festival and I have blogger's block. Hopefully I will catch up on blogs soon and have something more interesting to write about.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
The Gaping Chasm
Today I woke up feeling like I had been hit by a Ma.ck truck, and I looked it. My eyes were all swollen and puffy from last night, and to make matters worse, my dog had carried an allergen in on her fur that got rubbed into my eye, which in turn made it red and angry and created what looked like a little cyst in the white of my eye. I felt and looked awesome.
I chugged ahead and went to work, once again trying to process information overload on an already taxed brain. I know what I want, but I don't know that the way to go about getting it is going to be through me. All I could think about this morning was how I was going to get what I want without making my husband feel like he was bulldozed or that I wasn't listening to him.
Then it hit me, surrogacy. I have had two very dear friends sincerely offer up their wombs, and if my options are to risk dying to bring a baby into the world, or allow my very dear friends to be on this journey with me, then I will have to seriously think about the latter. One of them is single and has never been pregnant. The day of my sono, her and I went to dinner and she offered up her womb in earnest. She told me that perhaps I was the answer to her prayers every bit as she is mine. It was a very touching evening.
So today I left work early, came home and took a nap to recover, and then when my husband got home we went out to eat. On our drive, I told him where I stood on our situation. I let him know that my first obvious desire was to carry our children, but that if it was too risky, then I wanted us to seriously consider surrogacy, but that no matter what, I wanted the decision to be ours. I want us to be united.
I guess he had a lot of time to think things over today too because what he said next made me remember that I am married to the most wonderful, loving, caring man in all the world (and the only one who can handle me). He told me that he wants second and third opinions before we do surgery. I told him that was great, and there are two centers here I want to look into. He told me not to limit myself to the city, or even this state. He told me to search the country and the world. He wants the best surgeon on this, and he wants a different answer than what we have already been given. He feels that with the science we have these days, there has to be a better option, a better surgery, and a better, safer way for us to get pregnant. He then said that he would take time off work to go wherever the surgeon was, and that we could use our timeshare to go there for a week or two if we had to.
I can't even begin to put into words what I was feeling in that moment because they were all over the place. This situation is enormous, and it is bigger than I ever thought it would be. I feel like we're heading into the major leagues. This is a fight I never in a million years thought I would be fighting. I feel like I am in the ranks of women undergoing IVF as far as wanting a pregnancy so badly, I will go to any lengths to achieve it. This is huge.
But what I am really taking away from tonight is that I have a partner by my side who is willing to do what it takes to help me build our family just one more time. That means more to me than any of this. The man downstairs who has fallen asleep in front of the TV once again is absolutely my soul mate, my eternal companion, and the best thing to ever happen to me.
Thank God for my husband. For making him just for me. For putting him on this earth just for me. God knew what he was doing when he put us together. I love him more than the air I breathe.
With that, my dear friends, I leave with a question to all of you. Do any of you know how to go about finding the best fertility specialist in the world to fix a uterine rupture? Where does one start such a search? Go.ogle? I mean, that doesn't seem like the best route, but it is a start. I am open to ideas, suggestions, and referrals.
I chugged ahead and went to work, once again trying to process information overload on an already taxed brain. I know what I want, but I don't know that the way to go about getting it is going to be through me. All I could think about this morning was how I was going to get what I want without making my husband feel like he was bulldozed or that I wasn't listening to him.
Then it hit me, surrogacy. I have had two very dear friends sincerely offer up their wombs, and if my options are to risk dying to bring a baby into the world, or allow my very dear friends to be on this journey with me, then I will have to seriously think about the latter. One of them is single and has never been pregnant. The day of my sono, her and I went to dinner and she offered up her womb in earnest. She told me that perhaps I was the answer to her prayers every bit as she is mine. It was a very touching evening.
So today I left work early, came home and took a nap to recover, and then when my husband got home we went out to eat. On our drive, I told him where I stood on our situation. I let him know that my first obvious desire was to carry our children, but that if it was too risky, then I wanted us to seriously consider surrogacy, but that no matter what, I wanted the decision to be ours. I want us to be united.
I guess he had a lot of time to think things over today too because what he said next made me remember that I am married to the most wonderful, loving, caring man in all the world (and the only one who can handle me). He told me that he wants second and third opinions before we do surgery. I told him that was great, and there are two centers here I want to look into. He told me not to limit myself to the city, or even this state. He told me to search the country and the world. He wants the best surgeon on this, and he wants a different answer than what we have already been given. He feels that with the science we have these days, there has to be a better option, a better surgery, and a better, safer way for us to get pregnant. He then said that he would take time off work to go wherever the surgeon was, and that we could use our timeshare to go there for a week or two if we had to.
I can't even begin to put into words what I was feeling in that moment because they were all over the place. This situation is enormous, and it is bigger than I ever thought it would be. I feel like we're heading into the major leagues. This is a fight I never in a million years thought I would be fighting. I feel like I am in the ranks of women undergoing IVF as far as wanting a pregnancy so badly, I will go to any lengths to achieve it. This is huge.
But what I am really taking away from tonight is that I have a partner by my side who is willing to do what it takes to help me build our family just one more time. That means more to me than any of this. The man downstairs who has fallen asleep in front of the TV once again is absolutely my soul mate, my eternal companion, and the best thing to ever happen to me.
Thank God for my husband. For making him just for me. For putting him on this earth just for me. God knew what he was doing when he put us together. I love him more than the air I breathe.
With that, my dear friends, I leave with a question to all of you. Do any of you know how to go about finding the best fertility specialist in the world to fix a uterine rupture? Where does one start such a search? Go.ogle? I mean, that doesn't seem like the best route, but it is a start. I am open to ideas, suggestions, and referrals.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Welcome Back
Hello darkness my old friend, I've come to speak with you again...
Tonight my husband went with me to the shrink. I was bound and determined that this session would be awesome and that we would leave there happier and closer together than when we went in. Ha!
*disclaimer - My husband and I have an awesome marriage. We weren't going for marriage counseling, but rather to seek help on dealing with our current infertility situation.*
During our session I told my shrink that I was afraid that if I didn't go forward with the surgery and getting pregnant again that 10 years down the road my husband would resent me for giving up. I was further afraid that he would resent me because I am the one who doesn't work, not him.
The shrink asked what he thought about that and he said, "I think she doesn't listen to me. Ever." When she asked what he meant by that, he explained that he had already told me he didn't care if we didn't have any more children. That he feels the 40% risk of a rupture is too high for him, and that he thinks those odds are shitty. He said he wouldn't put $10 on those odds, let alone his wife's life. He would rather we not move forward and only have one child than move forward and risk losing me. He said he feels bulldozed by my decision to move forward, and like he doesn't have a say in the matter.
When she asked what I thought about that, I reiterated my fear of him resenting me. I stopped midsentence as a new though occurred to me, and then I began to cry so hard I could barely speak. It was in that moment I realized I wasn't afraid he would resent me, it was that I am afraid I will resent me.
At that moment it was like a grain of sand had fallen on top of a mountain that caused it to come crashing down. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't stop the deluge of thoughts that went screaming through my head. All I could do was sob to the point I couldn't even take a breath.
If he doesn't want this, then it means I have to come to terms with the fact that I won't have any more children, but I want more children. I want more children so badly. I had finally gotten to the point where I was okay with moving forward, despite the risks, but now here I was facing the death of my dream all over again. Only this time, I realized I am alone in that decision, and that if things don't go well, if the risks come true, my husband will resent me. But I want another child. Just one more. If I don't have one more, then my daughter will be an only child. She won't have anyone to play board games with or play on her playground with her when her friends can't come over. There will be no riding buddy on theme park vacations. There will be no 24/7 friend under her roof.
I failed.
If I don't bring another child into this world for her and her daddy, I failed.
Oh my gosh, I am broken. I really, truly, honest to God am broken.
Who will resent me? I WILL.
I looked at my husband and collected myself enough to tell him what I had just realized. I sobbed as I told him I was sorry for making him the target of my fears. I was sorry for taking this all out on him. I realized he meant what he had been saying all along, just like he meant it when he told me he would be happy if we never had children back when we were trying for our daughter. I always thought he said that to ease my pain, and on some level he did, but he also meant it because all he wants is to be with me.
Wow. I totally did not expect that.
That was about half way into our session, so the next half was spent with me trying to pick up the pieces of my shattered dream all over again. Trying once again to come to terms with the realization that I might be done having children. Looking this ugly monster in the eyes AGAIN. My husband sat quietly by my side.
We came home, and after I had put the baby to bed, I called my parents. My mom answered the phone, so I talked to her about what had happened and how I was feeling, which made me feel horrible because she just underwent reconstructive surgery from a mastectomy and I felt the last thing she needed was my garbage. Luckily she felt the opposite.
She talked me through my feelings. She told me that DH and I need to pray about this, and that I can't discount my urge to try for another baby, but that I also can't discount my husband's feelings. In the end she told me to do the surgery, and then to do some soul searching and praying over the next few months when we aren't allowed to try for a baby anyway. We both wished that she knew what I am supposed to do. She reminded me that three people today told me I need to pray about this.
Three people? you ask.
Yes, the very sweet, thoughtful, and caring Hannah from Life Happens sent this beautiful sign to me and it arrived today, of all days.
Just in case you can't read it, it says, "Blessings come down when prayers go up."
I had no idea how prophetic it would be until after my shrink appointment tonight. Hannah, you truly were inspired. But above that, I am so grateful to you beyond words for this precious gift. You are fighting your own, very tough battle, yet you found it in your heart to send something so sweet to me. I thought about where I would hang it, because I wanted it to be somewhere I would notice it every day. I've decided to hang it on the inside of my front door so I can see it every time I open the door, so that my guests see it every time they leave. I will always think of you when I see it and feel a fondness for you that goes beyond saying. I can't thank you enough, but thank you from the bottom of my heart.
So tonight I am trying to digest a new, but similar bitter pill. It all comes back to the same thing, and it all just plain sucks. It just added another whole new dimension to the suckiness. I just wish I knew what I am supposed to do.
Tonight my husband went with me to the shrink. I was bound and determined that this session would be awesome and that we would leave there happier and closer together than when we went in. Ha!
*disclaimer - My husband and I have an awesome marriage. We weren't going for marriage counseling, but rather to seek help on dealing with our current infertility situation.*
During our session I told my shrink that I was afraid that if I didn't go forward with the surgery and getting pregnant again that 10 years down the road my husband would resent me for giving up. I was further afraid that he would resent me because I am the one who doesn't work, not him.
The shrink asked what he thought about that and he said, "I think she doesn't listen to me. Ever." When she asked what he meant by that, he explained that he had already told me he didn't care if we didn't have any more children. That he feels the 40% risk of a rupture is too high for him, and that he thinks those odds are shitty. He said he wouldn't put $10 on those odds, let alone his wife's life. He would rather we not move forward and only have one child than move forward and risk losing me. He said he feels bulldozed by my decision to move forward, and like he doesn't have a say in the matter.
When she asked what I thought about that, I reiterated my fear of him resenting me. I stopped midsentence as a new though occurred to me, and then I began to cry so hard I could barely speak. It was in that moment I realized I wasn't afraid he would resent me, it was that I am afraid I will resent me.
At that moment it was like a grain of sand had fallen on top of a mountain that caused it to come crashing down. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't stop the deluge of thoughts that went screaming through my head. All I could do was sob to the point I couldn't even take a breath.
If he doesn't want this, then it means I have to come to terms with the fact that I won't have any more children, but I want more children. I want more children so badly. I had finally gotten to the point where I was okay with moving forward, despite the risks, but now here I was facing the death of my dream all over again. Only this time, I realized I am alone in that decision, and that if things don't go well, if the risks come true, my husband will resent me. But I want another child. Just one more. If I don't have one more, then my daughter will be an only child. She won't have anyone to play board games with or play on her playground with her when her friends can't come over. There will be no riding buddy on theme park vacations. There will be no 24/7 friend under her roof.
I failed.
If I don't bring another child into this world for her and her daddy, I failed.
Oh my gosh, I am broken. I really, truly, honest to God am broken.
Who will resent me? I WILL.
I looked at my husband and collected myself enough to tell him what I had just realized. I sobbed as I told him I was sorry for making him the target of my fears. I was sorry for taking this all out on him. I realized he meant what he had been saying all along, just like he meant it when he told me he would be happy if we never had children back when we were trying for our daughter. I always thought he said that to ease my pain, and on some level he did, but he also meant it because all he wants is to be with me.
Wow. I totally did not expect that.
That was about half way into our session, so the next half was spent with me trying to pick up the pieces of my shattered dream all over again. Trying once again to come to terms with the realization that I might be done having children. Looking this ugly monster in the eyes AGAIN. My husband sat quietly by my side.
We came home, and after I had put the baby to bed, I called my parents. My mom answered the phone, so I talked to her about what had happened and how I was feeling, which made me feel horrible because she just underwent reconstructive surgery from a mastectomy and I felt the last thing she needed was my garbage. Luckily she felt the opposite.
She talked me through my feelings. She told me that DH and I need to pray about this, and that I can't discount my urge to try for another baby, but that I also can't discount my husband's feelings. In the end she told me to do the surgery, and then to do some soul searching and praying over the next few months when we aren't allowed to try for a baby anyway. We both wished that she knew what I am supposed to do. She reminded me that three people today told me I need to pray about this.
Three people? you ask.
Yes, the very sweet, thoughtful, and caring Hannah from Life Happens sent this beautiful sign to me and it arrived today, of all days.
(Sorry its so dark, but the flash drowned it out)
Just in case you can't read it, it says, "Blessings come down when prayers go up."
I had no idea how prophetic it would be until after my shrink appointment tonight. Hannah, you truly were inspired. But above that, I am so grateful to you beyond words for this precious gift. You are fighting your own, very tough battle, yet you found it in your heart to send something so sweet to me. I thought about where I would hang it, because I wanted it to be somewhere I would notice it every day. I've decided to hang it on the inside of my front door so I can see it every time I open the door, so that my guests see it every time they leave. I will always think of you when I see it and feel a fondness for you that goes beyond saying. I can't thank you enough, but thank you from the bottom of my heart.
So tonight I am trying to digest a new, but similar bitter pill. It all comes back to the same thing, and it all just plain sucks. It just added another whole new dimension to the suckiness. I just wish I knew what I am supposed to do.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Taking It All In
This weekend I felt like I was on cloud 9. I know that most people would see my upcoming battle as daunting and not the least bit exciting or anything to look forward to, but I do. I can't wait to get this show on the road, and I know that many of you out there know exactly where I am coming from. I will do anything to bring another child into this world. Right now, at this stage in my life, I feel like this is what I was made to do. That being said, I have also decided that I will stop after my second child. It isn't the three I always dreamed of, but I have to be honest with myself and come to terms with the fact that my body is just not built to keep doing the job of Mi.chelle Du.ggar (bless her heart). I wish it was, but it isn't.
I think my husband was a little shocked tonight when he said something about our three children, and I looked him in the eye and told him I was only going to tempt fate once more. We both wanted three or more, but I just don't think I could go through what I am about to again.
My pregnancy is going to be so extremely high risk. We are counting on the fact that I will spend weeks, if not months in the hospital. We know we will meet our maximum out of pocket deductible for the year. We know we are up against a lot of risks and complications. I have the fight in me to do it one more time, but after that, I need to accept the fact that it is time to stop for my safety and to ensure that my children have a mother.
In my primary blog, I laid out all of what we are up against. I might copy the post over here later. Rest assured, it is a lot. This is going to be a battle that makes my journey to my daughter look like a cake walk. My doctor has made it very clear she wishes we wouldn't proceed, but if we do, she will be here for and with me through the whole thing. I am in great hands.
I think the best thing I walked away with after Friday is the knowledge that I have to take the next 7-9 months off TTC. Yes I was excited to start trying again, but honestly, I didn't feel like our wait was over. It didn't feel right. When my ticker on my other blog got to 0, I felt like it needed more time on it. On top of that, I was kind of sad to get back into things because I am enjoying our family of 3 right now. I love that my husband and I are completely focused on our daughter. I want that to last a little bit longer, especially if I end up in the hospital for months with our next baby. I see this surgery and wait as a blessing more than anything. It was meant to be.
This weekend I spent time with my family, enjoying every minute and taking it all in. We went to the nursery and I bought some seeds to plant tomatoes, jalapenos, peas, and herbs. The Munchkin picked out some squash seeds, which we thought was so cute, we bought them for her. I wasted no time planting them. The Munchkin was an adorable helper who ended up with dirt in and all over her mouth. I loved that moment. This is how it was supposed to be.
I'm glad we have to wait. And when it comes time to try for #2, I will be more ready and more at peace with it than I was a week ago. Next time, it will be time.
I think my husband was a little shocked tonight when he said something about our three children, and I looked him in the eye and told him I was only going to tempt fate once more. We both wanted three or more, but I just don't think I could go through what I am about to again.
My pregnancy is going to be so extremely high risk. We are counting on the fact that I will spend weeks, if not months in the hospital. We know we will meet our maximum out of pocket deductible for the year. We know we are up against a lot of risks and complications. I have the fight in me to do it one more time, but after that, I need to accept the fact that it is time to stop for my safety and to ensure that my children have a mother.
In my primary blog, I laid out all of what we are up against. I might copy the post over here later. Rest assured, it is a lot. This is going to be a battle that makes my journey to my daughter look like a cake walk. My doctor has made it very clear she wishes we wouldn't proceed, but if we do, she will be here for and with me through the whole thing. I am in great hands.
I think the best thing I walked away with after Friday is the knowledge that I have to take the next 7-9 months off TTC. Yes I was excited to start trying again, but honestly, I didn't feel like our wait was over. It didn't feel right. When my ticker on my other blog got to 0, I felt like it needed more time on it. On top of that, I was kind of sad to get back into things because I am enjoying our family of 3 right now. I love that my husband and I are completely focused on our daughter. I want that to last a little bit longer, especially if I end up in the hospital for months with our next baby. I see this surgery and wait as a blessing more than anything. It was meant to be.
This weekend I spent time with my family, enjoying every minute and taking it all in. We went to the nursery and I bought some seeds to plant tomatoes, jalapenos, peas, and herbs. The Munchkin picked out some squash seeds, which we thought was so cute, we bought them for her. I wasted no time planting them. The Munchkin was an adorable helper who ended up with dirt in and all over her mouth. I loved that moment. This is how it was supposed to be.
I'm glad we have to wait. And when it comes time to try for #2, I will be more ready and more at peace with it than I was a week ago. Next time, it will be time.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Why Don't the Pieces Fit?
Back before I met my husband, my best friend was a guy. One day we were going out for a hike, and as we were waiting at a stop light to get on the freeway, he told me of a song he had heard on the radio that sang about, "Why don't the pieces fit?" and how he felt that song applied to him. That moment always stuck with me because on that day, we were both in a dark spot, which is why we were going hiking. Today I am reminded of that song.
I didn't have a good day emotionally today, as Jill and Suzanne were witness to before yet another blog post met the graveyard. (Thank you ladies for your very sweet comments. I hope to have the mess cleared up soon. Thank you Jill for telling me about the comment. I went and posted a reply. I didn't realize I could do that until you said something.) As those of you who struggle with depression know, you just never know how you are going to continue handling bad news on any given day. Some days you are okay, and others it feels like the sky is falling. Today my sky was falling.
Today I felt angry. I felt let down. I felt every angry emotion in the book. I went to my shrink appointment, hoping she could help me dig my way out a little bit. Instead, I think it made me fall back into my PTSD, which is fine, because I realize I might need to take two steps back before I can move forward. I went in and tried not to shout that I didn't know why I am back here in this place. Why I didn't think it was fair. I cried. I hurt. I told her I didn't understand. I didn't give her a chance to say much, because today I needed to question everything. I just needed her to listen.
She asked me every question I have asked myself over the last few days, and I gave her all of my answers. I told her I feel like I am constantly trying to dig my way out of a cave, trying to find any little glimmer of hope that I can, but once I explore that glimmer I also have to explore the risks and complications, which push me back to where I started. How the ever living hell did I end up back here? I feel so forsaken. I don't understand, and I don't think I ever will. I am still trying to digest this, and the more real it becomes, the angrier I get.
I am so battered and beaten. I am shocked. I am hurt.
During our session I kept telling her I needed my husband there. I need him to really hear me, and I need for him to express what he feels about all of this. I love the man, but he cannot share emotion to save his life (I blame his mother 100%).
Tonight I called my husband to ask him to stop off at the pharmacy on his way home to get a prescription for our daughter's new case of pink eye (courtesy of daycare and just another spoiler to my day). He could hear by my voice I wasn't doing well. I cried and begged him to please go to the shrink with me next week. I have been asking him since I started going. He finally, finally told me he would go with me. No hesitation, just a very gentle, "Okay." I told him thank you and that I couldn't do this alone. He then told me he would only go once a week. I was shocked, I thought I'd only get a one-time deal out of it. I guess he finally understands where I am and how much I need this from him. I think he also understands that this fight is bigger than us both.
I am just hanging on for the day when I am able to start picking up the pieces and putting my life back together. I am in a holding pattern right now and will be at least until the end of this week when I have my sonohystogram, if not longer, depending on if I need the MRI. I'm not sure if I want to know the answer to the testing. I'm scared.
When will the pieces fit?
I didn't have a good day emotionally today, as Jill and Suzanne were witness to before yet another blog post met the graveyard. (Thank you ladies for your very sweet comments. I hope to have the mess cleared up soon. Thank you Jill for telling me about the comment. I went and posted a reply. I didn't realize I could do that until you said something.) As those of you who struggle with depression know, you just never know how you are going to continue handling bad news on any given day. Some days you are okay, and others it feels like the sky is falling. Today my sky was falling.
Today I felt angry. I felt let down. I felt every angry emotion in the book. I went to my shrink appointment, hoping she could help me dig my way out a little bit. Instead, I think it made me fall back into my PTSD, which is fine, because I realize I might need to take two steps back before I can move forward. I went in and tried not to shout that I didn't know why I am back here in this place. Why I didn't think it was fair. I cried. I hurt. I told her I didn't understand. I didn't give her a chance to say much, because today I needed to question everything. I just needed her to listen.
She asked me every question I have asked myself over the last few days, and I gave her all of my answers. I told her I feel like I am constantly trying to dig my way out of a cave, trying to find any little glimmer of hope that I can, but once I explore that glimmer I also have to explore the risks and complications, which push me back to where I started. How the ever living hell did I end up back here? I feel so forsaken. I don't understand, and I don't think I ever will. I am still trying to digest this, and the more real it becomes, the angrier I get.
I am so battered and beaten. I am shocked. I am hurt.
During our session I kept telling her I needed my husband there. I need him to really hear me, and I need for him to express what he feels about all of this. I love the man, but he cannot share emotion to save his life (I blame his mother 100%).
Tonight I called my husband to ask him to stop off at the pharmacy on his way home to get a prescription for our daughter's new case of pink eye (courtesy of daycare and just another spoiler to my day). He could hear by my voice I wasn't doing well. I cried and begged him to please go to the shrink with me next week. I have been asking him since I started going. He finally, finally told me he would go with me. No hesitation, just a very gentle, "Okay." I told him thank you and that I couldn't do this alone. He then told me he would only go once a week. I was shocked, I thought I'd only get a one-time deal out of it. I guess he finally understands where I am and how much I need this from him. I think he also understands that this fight is bigger than us both.
I am just hanging on for the day when I am able to start picking up the pieces and putting my life back together. I am in a holding pattern right now and will be at least until the end of this week when I have my sonohystogram, if not longer, depending on if I need the MRI. I'm not sure if I want to know the answer to the testing. I'm scared.
When will the pieces fit?
Friday, February 19, 2010
Swallowing a Bitter Pill
First of all, I want to say thank you so much to all of you for your very kind words during such a horrible moment in my life. The really do help buoy me up. I am still completely reeling from the news. I still can't get my head around it, and I still can't bring myself to accept it.
The worst part is knowing that I have to wake up in the morning and be reminded of the fact that today wasn't a nightmare. It wasn't a figment of my subconscious imagination manifesting itself in some horrible night vision.
As with all things, there has been some good to come from it. I am astounded at the support system I have in place. Last time I was going through this battle, I was alone. 100% completely alone. I didn't even have my blog back then. This time I have so many wonderful people in real life that have rallied around me and are willing to do anything to help me get through this. In addition to them, I have all of my blog friends who are here to help as well. The outpouring of love and support has been astounding.
My doctor called me back this afternoon at 3:30 on the nose. She told me she had consulted with the fertility doctor and they are ordering a sonohystogram for next Friday. They hope that it will show them just how thin the lining is and how big the gap between the walls of muscle are. If they don't get what they need from the sono, they are going to order up an MRI. The doctor felt that they could perform surgery to close the gap, they just need to know how bad things really are first.
Sounds like good news, right?
I asked what our chances would be if we did the surgery. My doctor told me they would increase dramatically, because as it stands right now, I absolutely, positively should not get pregnant. The baby WILL die, and I could die too. However, she said there is still a 40% chance of a rupture even after the surgery. I thanked her for giving me hope again, but she strongly advised me to talk to my husband about not trying again. How must she feel delivering news like that knowing that some patients will do it at all costs and that she feels a moral obligation to help them even when she doesn't agree with their choices?
DH thinks 40% is pretty shit. I don't think he is comfortable with it. In fact, I know he isn't. However, he is reserving feeling until we talk to the doctor who will perform the surgery and get his opinion on the matter. In the meantime, I am left to my thoughts. Weighing everything, trying to decide what to do. Do I take my chances, or do I face the fact that I may be done having children? I know I can be happy if all I ever have is my daughter, because at least I have her to show for my struggles. I just wish I could give her a sibling for so many reasons. But could she be happy if her mother died trying to give her that sibling? Could I?
I hate this place. I hate being here. I am feeling every negative emotion possible.
I told DH I wish I could point the finger of blame at someone, but I can't because all of the choices that got me to where I am today were mine, with the exception of the removal of the septum. Neither of us chose to have that removed. My doctor just did it. Had he asked me, I would have told him to take it out. Had he asked DH and informed him of the risks of doing so, DH would have told him "Hell no! You leave that damn thing in there!" My husband was seething about it tonight. He yelled about it for a good 15 minutes. That damn septum removal is the whole reason I am where I am. But I can't change it now.
The thing I hate most about being in this place is the unknown. Not knowing if there really is any hope, and if so, how much. I hate feeling forsaken by my instincts. I want to kick my own ass for being so stupid and naive. I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up! I knew it!
Luckily I have a bottle of Val.lium in my cupboard, and I took one to help me sleep tonight. It has just kicked in, which means my thoughts are fading just like I am. I can't wait for tomorrow morning when I get to relive the hell of today.
The worst part is knowing that I have to wake up in the morning and be reminded of the fact that today wasn't a nightmare. It wasn't a figment of my subconscious imagination manifesting itself in some horrible night vision.
As with all things, there has been some good to come from it. I am astounded at the support system I have in place. Last time I was going through this battle, I was alone. 100% completely alone. I didn't even have my blog back then. This time I have so many wonderful people in real life that have rallied around me and are willing to do anything to help me get through this. In addition to them, I have all of my blog friends who are here to help as well. The outpouring of love and support has been astounding.
My doctor called me back this afternoon at 3:30 on the nose. She told me she had consulted with the fertility doctor and they are ordering a sonohystogram for next Friday. They hope that it will show them just how thin the lining is and how big the gap between the walls of muscle are. If they don't get what they need from the sono, they are going to order up an MRI. The doctor felt that they could perform surgery to close the gap, they just need to know how bad things really are first.
Sounds like good news, right?
I asked what our chances would be if we did the surgery. My doctor told me they would increase dramatically, because as it stands right now, I absolutely, positively should not get pregnant. The baby WILL die, and I could die too. However, she said there is still a 40% chance of a rupture even after the surgery. I thanked her for giving me hope again, but she strongly advised me to talk to my husband about not trying again. How must she feel delivering news like that knowing that some patients will do it at all costs and that she feels a moral obligation to help them even when she doesn't agree with their choices?
DH thinks 40% is pretty shit. I don't think he is comfortable with it. In fact, I know he isn't. However, he is reserving feeling until we talk to the doctor who will perform the surgery and get his opinion on the matter. In the meantime, I am left to my thoughts. Weighing everything, trying to decide what to do. Do I take my chances, or do I face the fact that I may be done having children? I know I can be happy if all I ever have is my daughter, because at least I have her to show for my struggles. I just wish I could give her a sibling for so many reasons. But could she be happy if her mother died trying to give her that sibling? Could I?
I hate this place. I hate being here. I am feeling every negative emotion possible.
I told DH I wish I could point the finger of blame at someone, but I can't because all of the choices that got me to where I am today were mine, with the exception of the removal of the septum. Neither of us chose to have that removed. My doctor just did it. Had he asked me, I would have told him to take it out. Had he asked DH and informed him of the risks of doing so, DH would have told him "Hell no! You leave that damn thing in there!" My husband was seething about it tonight. He yelled about it for a good 15 minutes. That damn septum removal is the whole reason I am where I am. But I can't change it now.
The thing I hate most about being in this place is the unknown. Not knowing if there really is any hope, and if so, how much. I hate feeling forsaken by my instincts. I want to kick my own ass for being so stupid and naive. I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up! I knew it!
Luckily I have a bottle of Val.lium in my cupboard, and I took one to help me sleep tonight. It has just kicked in, which means my thoughts are fading just like I am. I can't wait for tomorrow morning when I get to relive the hell of today.
It is all for Naught
I went to my ultrasound this morning to check that everything from my rupture had healed well enough that I could start trying for another baby in the next couple of months. I feel so stupid now that on my drive in I was thinking the biggest of my worries was when to start using OPKs. I got the answer to that. Never.
I went into that appointment so hopeful, so sure that everything was going to be okay, that it was going to be a fantastic appointment, I would skip out of there with my prescription for prenatals. I watched as the tech found my scar tissue, and as she found a 5mm cyst on my right ovary (which explains all of the pains I've been having), and as she found my beautiful left ovary. I'll hand it to her, she is a professional. Her demeanor never changed. She asked me to wait while she asked my doctor if she wanted to come in and make sure there wasn't anything else we needed to look at. I sat there, praying everything was fine and preparing myself for good news.
My doctor came in and watched the screen. The tech moved the wand to my scar tissue and pointed at a black spot right next to it. I looked at her face and at my doctor's face, waiting for any indication of good or bad. I held my breath. I held out hope. "Everything is fine. Its perfect. Don't freak out."
Then came the bomb shell.
There is no muscle on my uterine wall next to the rupture. The wall right there is paper thin and my intestines could be viewed through it on the ultrasound. As it stands right now, I am no longer able to have any more children.
My world fell out from underneath me. I was not prepared for this. I never in a million years thought I would hear that today. I started to cry and ask if it could be fixed. My doctor isn't sure, so she is going to call a high risk OB and consult with their fertility specialist today and call me back. I have to say right now, my hopes are not high. I just sat there and cried. What did I do to deserve this? Haven't I been through enough? My doctor held me in a tight hug, told me she was sorry, and that she would see if there is anything we can do.
My doctor and the tech left the room so I could get dressed, and I cried so hard. I sobbed like my world had come to an end. I couldn't collect myself well enough to stop sobbing. The tech came back in a few minutes later and told me I could use the back entrance so I wouldn't have to walk through a waiting room full of preggies. She told me my doctor would do all she could, and she hoped for the best for us.
I did not expect this!
I walked as fast as I could out of the hospital and to my car, avoiding all eye contact and trying to keep my tears in check. As soon as I got to the car I sobbed from the very tips of my toes. My heart was breaking. I called Hubs and told him about the appointment. All I could do was cry from my very core.
I didn't want to be back here again, but here I am. This is so unfair. I have done everything I was supposed to do. I have been through enough. Why am I facing this?
I know I am very blessed because I at least have my daughter. I am so grateful for her, and I am still grateful for everything I had to go through to get her. I always will be. But right now, I feel so very broken again. I feel like I am worse off now than I was before as far as TTC is concerned.
Why did God let me feel like everything was going to be okay when it isn't? Why did He put such a strong desire to have more children in me when it isn't going to happen? Why did He let my "instincts" tell me that I would be able to start trying for another baby in a couple of months when I'm not? I don't understand. If this isn't going to happen, then He needs to take these feelings and desires away. For the last four years of my life, ALL I have focused on is building a family. That is all I have truly wanted. More than anything.
I want my daughter to have a sibling. I don't want her to be an only child. I want her to have a friend who is always there. Someone to grow up with, play with, get in trouble with, have secrets from mom and dad with. It is so lonely being an only child. I had siblings, and I want that for my daughter.
Please, if you leave a comment don't tell me to be glad I at least have my daughter. I AM glad. I am so blessed to have her. I know that so many of you are trying for your first and are struggling, but that does not make my pain feel any less great right now. The bottom of my world and all of my hope have been pulled out from underneath me. My day went from being exciting to wondering what the hell I am going to do now, to questioning myself, my hope, and my instincts. To realizing that even IF this can be fixed, I am at least another year away from trying, if not longer. My life plans have all gone out the window. Everything I have been hanging onto this last year was ripped from my grasp in a moment this morning.
I am dumped right back where I was three years ago, only worse in some ways. I have a bathroom cabinet stocked clear full of OPKs and pregnancy tests. All of them will have to be thrown away now. All of the pregnancy items I have waiting in my closet have to go away. My hopes and dreams have gone away.
Everything hangs in the balance on a phone call from my doctor. Will they be able to fix it? How long will recovery take? What will happen with my endo and PCOS while we wait? I'm getting older, I don't have much time left to continue building my family. How is all of this going to affect world again? This just plain is NOT fair.
I may be absent from blogging for a while. Right now, I feel like I need to be away from everything TTC-related. I just can't handle this. I can't handle the fact that I am where I am. I need to grieve and pick up the pieces of my shattered dream.
I went into that appointment so hopeful, so sure that everything was going to be okay, that it was going to be a fantastic appointment, I would skip out of there with my prescription for prenatals. I watched as the tech found my scar tissue, and as she found a 5mm cyst on my right ovary (which explains all of the pains I've been having), and as she found my beautiful left ovary. I'll hand it to her, she is a professional. Her demeanor never changed. She asked me to wait while she asked my doctor if she wanted to come in and make sure there wasn't anything else we needed to look at. I sat there, praying everything was fine and preparing myself for good news.
My doctor came in and watched the screen. The tech moved the wand to my scar tissue and pointed at a black spot right next to it. I looked at her face and at my doctor's face, waiting for any indication of good or bad. I held my breath. I held out hope. "Everything is fine. Its perfect. Don't freak out."
Then came the bomb shell.
There is no muscle on my uterine wall next to the rupture. The wall right there is paper thin and my intestines could be viewed through it on the ultrasound. As it stands right now, I am no longer able to have any more children.
My world fell out from underneath me. I was not prepared for this. I never in a million years thought I would hear that today. I started to cry and ask if it could be fixed. My doctor isn't sure, so she is going to call a high risk OB and consult with their fertility specialist today and call me back. I have to say right now, my hopes are not high. I just sat there and cried. What did I do to deserve this? Haven't I been through enough? My doctor held me in a tight hug, told me she was sorry, and that she would see if there is anything we can do.
My doctor and the tech left the room so I could get dressed, and I cried so hard. I sobbed like my world had come to an end. I couldn't collect myself well enough to stop sobbing. The tech came back in a few minutes later and told me I could use the back entrance so I wouldn't have to walk through a waiting room full of preggies. She told me my doctor would do all she could, and she hoped for the best for us.
I did not expect this!
I walked as fast as I could out of the hospital and to my car, avoiding all eye contact and trying to keep my tears in check. As soon as I got to the car I sobbed from the very tips of my toes. My heart was breaking. I called Hubs and told him about the appointment. All I could do was cry from my very core.
I didn't want to be back here again, but here I am. This is so unfair. I have done everything I was supposed to do. I have been through enough. Why am I facing this?
I know I am very blessed because I at least have my daughter. I am so grateful for her, and I am still grateful for everything I had to go through to get her. I always will be. But right now, I feel so very broken again. I feel like I am worse off now than I was before as far as TTC is concerned.
Why did God let me feel like everything was going to be okay when it isn't? Why did He put such a strong desire to have more children in me when it isn't going to happen? Why did He let my "instincts" tell me that I would be able to start trying for another baby in a couple of months when I'm not? I don't understand. If this isn't going to happen, then He needs to take these feelings and desires away. For the last four years of my life, ALL I have focused on is building a family. That is all I have truly wanted. More than anything.
I want my daughter to have a sibling. I don't want her to be an only child. I want her to have a friend who is always there. Someone to grow up with, play with, get in trouble with, have secrets from mom and dad with. It is so lonely being an only child. I had siblings, and I want that for my daughter.
Please, if you leave a comment don't tell me to be glad I at least have my daughter. I AM glad. I am so blessed to have her. I know that so many of you are trying for your first and are struggling, but that does not make my pain feel any less great right now. The bottom of my world and all of my hope have been pulled out from underneath me. My day went from being exciting to wondering what the hell I am going to do now, to questioning myself, my hope, and my instincts. To realizing that even IF this can be fixed, I am at least another year away from trying, if not longer. My life plans have all gone out the window. Everything I have been hanging onto this last year was ripped from my grasp in a moment this morning.
I am dumped right back where I was three years ago, only worse in some ways. I have a bathroom cabinet stocked clear full of OPKs and pregnancy tests. All of them will have to be thrown away now. All of the pregnancy items I have waiting in my closet have to go away. My hopes and dreams have gone away.
Everything hangs in the balance on a phone call from my doctor. Will they be able to fix it? How long will recovery take? What will happen with my endo and PCOS while we wait? I'm getting older, I don't have much time left to continue building my family. How is all of this going to affect world again? This just plain is NOT fair.
I may be absent from blogging for a while. Right now, I feel like I need to be away from everything TTC-related. I just can't handle this. I can't handle the fact that I am where I am. I need to grieve and pick up the pieces of my shattered dream.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Standing On a Crumbling Cliff
I came to the realization today that I really do not have it all together when it comes to TTC again. Not only that, but I have it way less together than I thought I did.
Tonight I feel like I am standing on the edge of a crumbling cliff. For the first time in a long time, I am almost downright panic stricken at the thought of TTC. My first sign was this morning when I went to see my doctor to follow up on my antidepressants. I told him I have been extremely exhausted lately and can't sleep enough. I can take two 3 hour naps in one day and still fall asleep easily that night and sleep in the next day, only to repeat the process. He suggested that the exhaustion could be a side effect of the cit.alopram and maybe I should try backing off the dose. Even the thought of backing it off made me uncomfortable. Those silly little pills have made my life not only liveable, but they have made it awesome beyond words. As my husband says, they make me sane.
I told my dr I didn't want to do that. I then reminded him we were going to start TTC in the next couple of months, so we rediscussed our plan to wean me off over a two-week period as soon as I find out I'm pregnant. He told me I could wean off now and see how it goes, but I wasn't comfortable with that either. I feel like I need these babies to keep my world level. I told him as much, and he told me that was fine. We'll stick to the plan. He then said something that made my day, he told me that I am a good mama and that he hopes I get pregnant quickly because I deserve to have another baby. Wow! I really love this doctor. I was referred to him by my Shrink, by the way.
Okay, so going off the cit.alopram right now, not optional for me.
Then tonight when I got home from work I debated over whether or not I am going to do OPKs this month, or just leave it be. I just barely got my IUD out, so I can't expect much from this cycle. I am not sure if I will even ovulate or not, but my OB told me it is very possible to get pregnant right away, which she cautioned against until my lining builds back up. No problem, that was my plan anyway. But do I test to see if I even ovulate? THAT is the question.
I opened my bathroom cupboard tonight and came face to face with my bottle of OPKs. Despite my antidepressants, it send me into a bit of a panic.
Enter PTSD from IF.
Am I really ready for this? I mean, what if I never get a positive OPK? I know exactly where I'm headed if I don't. I don't know if I can do it again. Or can I? I mean, I've been there before. I know what to expect, and I've got resources, knowledge, friends, and professionals in my court that I didn't have before. But on the other hand, I know what to expect. The disappointing month after disappointing month. The toll it takes on my life, my relationships, my job. I now have a child to take into consideration too. How will my struggles affect her?
I think it is safe to say I am officially freaking out. The antidepressants help keep it in check for the most part, but my infertile brain is starting to race. It has been given the green light to do so for the first time in two years, and it is taking it and running with it. I wouldn't allow myself to cross this bridge before I got to it, and now I'm here, crossing it. I didn't remember it was quite this rickety. And honestly, this is only the first half of my battle. The other half will be the pregnancy itself.
Wow I am a mess. Welcome back Infertile Me. I didn't miss you these last two years. What do you say you cooperate with me this time around? I think I've been through enough already, don't you? And considering the battle ahead, I could use a break at the starting line. Sound good to you? It sure does to me.
Well, here we go friends. I'm back on the insane playing field of trying to beat my infertility again.
Tonight I feel like I am standing on the edge of a crumbling cliff. For the first time in a long time, I am almost downright panic stricken at the thought of TTC. My first sign was this morning when I went to see my doctor to follow up on my antidepressants. I told him I have been extremely exhausted lately and can't sleep enough. I can take two 3 hour naps in one day and still fall asleep easily that night and sleep in the next day, only to repeat the process. He suggested that the exhaustion could be a side effect of the cit.alopram and maybe I should try backing off the dose. Even the thought of backing it off made me uncomfortable. Those silly little pills have made my life not only liveable, but they have made it awesome beyond words. As my husband says, they make me sane.
I told my dr I didn't want to do that. I then reminded him we were going to start TTC in the next couple of months, so we rediscussed our plan to wean me off over a two-week period as soon as I find out I'm pregnant. He told me I could wean off now and see how it goes, but I wasn't comfortable with that either. I feel like I need these babies to keep my world level. I told him as much, and he told me that was fine. We'll stick to the plan. He then said something that made my day, he told me that I am a good mama and that he hopes I get pregnant quickly because I deserve to have another baby. Wow! I really love this doctor. I was referred to him by my Shrink, by the way.
Okay, so going off the cit.alopram right now, not optional for me.
Then tonight when I got home from work I debated over whether or not I am going to do OPKs this month, or just leave it be. I just barely got my IUD out, so I can't expect much from this cycle. I am not sure if I will even ovulate or not, but my OB told me it is very possible to get pregnant right away, which she cautioned against until my lining builds back up. No problem, that was my plan anyway. But do I test to see if I even ovulate? THAT is the question.
I opened my bathroom cupboard tonight and came face to face with my bottle of OPKs. Despite my antidepressants, it send me into a bit of a panic.
Enter PTSD from IF.
Am I really ready for this? I mean, what if I never get a positive OPK? I know exactly where I'm headed if I don't. I don't know if I can do it again. Or can I? I mean, I've been there before. I know what to expect, and I've got resources, knowledge, friends, and professionals in my court that I didn't have before. But on the other hand, I know what to expect. The disappointing month after disappointing month. The toll it takes on my life, my relationships, my job. I now have a child to take into consideration too. How will my struggles affect her?
I think it is safe to say I am officially freaking out. The antidepressants help keep it in check for the most part, but my infertile brain is starting to race. It has been given the green light to do so for the first time in two years, and it is taking it and running with it. I wouldn't allow myself to cross this bridge before I got to it, and now I'm here, crossing it. I didn't remember it was quite this rickety. And honestly, this is only the first half of my battle. The other half will be the pregnancy itself.
Wow I am a mess. Welcome back Infertile Me. I didn't miss you these last two years. What do you say you cooperate with me this time around? I think I've been through enough already, don't you? And considering the battle ahead, I could use a break at the starting line. Sound good to you? It sure does to me.
Well, here we go friends. I'm back on the insane playing field of trying to beat my infertility again.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The Two-Headed Coin
I have not yet posted my infertility story on this blog. Perhaps I will at a later point in time. I can tell you, it was a crazy ride and one that I wish to never repeat. It lasted for almost two years and involved everything from Chl.omid to IUIs to extensive surgery that left me battered and torn, wondering if everything I had gone through was really going to be worth it. It tested my resolve and desire to be a mother. The bottom line was always that I wasn't going to give up. I had to be able to look back and say I tried it all, which was what kept me moving forward in the worst moments.
I remember a few weeks after my surgery I was so frustrated because it was taking me so long to get back on my feet. I curled up on my bed one night and just cried like the world was coming to an end. I honestly wondered if it was all going to be worth it. I was in so much pain, and my surgery had been so extensive I went from a few days to recover (the norm for a laparoscopy) to up to 6 months to recover. I couldn't even clean the kitchen without it ending in my needing to take a 2-hour nap afterward. DH did his best to soothe me by telling me that even if the surgery hadn't worked, we would make our lives happy no matter what.
Those were some very dark days, and by far, some of the worst of my life. They were days I never wished to repeat.
Now here I am, getting ready to jump back in the crazy battle against infertility while I TTC a sibling for my baby girl. Not only do I have endometriosis and PCOS against me, I now have age and a uterine rupture working against me. I am looking at a very high risk pregnancy if and when I do get pregnant again. But I can't bring myself to cross that bridge before I get to it.
I was and still am so excited to start trying for another baby. My last pregnancy and the past year have been so surreal and wonderful beyond words. I can't wait to do it all again.
But here's the rub. I feel like my TTC is like a two-headed coin. On one side I have everything beautiful and happy to look forward to, but at the same time, I have the mouth of hell gaping before me as well. I know what is at stake on both sides. Is it worth it to face the bad for the good? ABSOLUTELY YES.
I am so excited to start TTC that I almost feel like I can't wait another two cycles while my body re-regulates itself after 6 months with an IUD. I understand I need to wait for my lining to build back up, and that is ultimately what I will do, but at the same time, I want to get right back into that race NOW. However, when I think about starting TTC as soon as next month, I get cold feet a little bit. I am sure that reason is two-fold. The first being that I have been out of the TTC game for the last two years. Am I really ready to get back in that game yet? How much, if any, of my previous battle will I have to repeat? The second being the potential risks of a pregnancy.
I guess I have plenty to talk about at my next Shrink appointment huh?
What it all boils down to to me is to follow my gut instinct, which tells me to wait two months, and then to jump back in both feet first. I feel like the journey to #2 won't take long, and that the pregnancy will go as smoothly as my last. That is what my deep down gut instinct tells me. However, the anxious bitty inside me asks if I feel that way only because I am on antidepressants that make unicorns fart rainbows. Once I come off of those babies, will my gut instinct still feel the same?
These inner battles really suck. You know that?
I have to go with what my gut tells me now and not what my inner-anxious person tries to battle me with.
Just in case any of you thought I had it all together because of my positive posts and encouragement to you, this ought to be evidence enough that I am just as messed up as every other infertile. lol
My cold meds just kicked in, so I am out.
I remember a few weeks after my surgery I was so frustrated because it was taking me so long to get back on my feet. I curled up on my bed one night and just cried like the world was coming to an end. I honestly wondered if it was all going to be worth it. I was in so much pain, and my surgery had been so extensive I went from a few days to recover (the norm for a laparoscopy) to up to 6 months to recover. I couldn't even clean the kitchen without it ending in my needing to take a 2-hour nap afterward. DH did his best to soothe me by telling me that even if the surgery hadn't worked, we would make our lives happy no matter what.
Those were some very dark days, and by far, some of the worst of my life. They were days I never wished to repeat.
Now here I am, getting ready to jump back in the crazy battle against infertility while I TTC a sibling for my baby girl. Not only do I have endometriosis and PCOS against me, I now have age and a uterine rupture working against me. I am looking at a very high risk pregnancy if and when I do get pregnant again. But I can't bring myself to cross that bridge before I get to it.
I was and still am so excited to start trying for another baby. My last pregnancy and the past year have been so surreal and wonderful beyond words. I can't wait to do it all again.
But here's the rub. I feel like my TTC is like a two-headed coin. On one side I have everything beautiful and happy to look forward to, but at the same time, I have the mouth of hell gaping before me as well. I know what is at stake on both sides. Is it worth it to face the bad for the good? ABSOLUTELY YES.
I am so excited to start TTC that I almost feel like I can't wait another two cycles while my body re-regulates itself after 6 months with an IUD. I understand I need to wait for my lining to build back up, and that is ultimately what I will do, but at the same time, I want to get right back into that race NOW. However, when I think about starting TTC as soon as next month, I get cold feet a little bit. I am sure that reason is two-fold. The first being that I have been out of the TTC game for the last two years. Am I really ready to get back in that game yet? How much, if any, of my previous battle will I have to repeat? The second being the potential risks of a pregnancy.
I guess I have plenty to talk about at my next Shrink appointment huh?
What it all boils down to to me is to follow my gut instinct, which tells me to wait two months, and then to jump back in both feet first. I feel like the journey to #2 won't take long, and that the pregnancy will go as smoothly as my last. That is what my deep down gut instinct tells me. However, the anxious bitty inside me asks if I feel that way only because I am on antidepressants that make unicorns fart rainbows. Once I come off of those babies, will my gut instinct still feel the same?
These inner battles really suck. You know that?
I have to go with what my gut tells me now and not what my inner-anxious person tries to battle me with.
Just in case any of you thought I had it all together because of my positive posts and encouragement to you, this ought to be evidence enough that I am just as messed up as every other infertile. lol
My cold meds just kicked in, so I am out.
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