"I'm cleared to go, we are going!" I demand weakly to my husband after my doctor had cleared me to be discharged and to head up into the mountains for the weekend. I was under strict resting guidelines but I was allowed to go. I finally convinced my husband.
The weekend went on like normal, I was tired and rested most of the time with some small easing walks. I didn't realize it and thought maybe my medicines were making me feel unwell, but suddenly my incision was bulging and puss was oozing out of the stitches. We called my doctor and made our way back to the hospital.
Infection, I have an infection. "We need to reopen your incision and drain it." When I woke up again all I cared about was seeing my husband. I almost lost it when I saw him. Sitting in the chair next to my bed, one hand resting on top of mine, his head buried into his other hand. I squeezed his hand to try to communicate that I was okay. He looked up, his eyes searching mine for any sign that we might be finally done with this mess. "Get some sleep, you'll be staying overnight, no arguing" As I drifted back to sleep my only thought was I'm too tired to argue."
"We got the results back." My doctor said to us, his eyes telling much more than he was saying. "It was cancer. The good news is that we took a piece of your right ovary to test and it was clean." Left alone to process the news. I was afraid to look at my husband. Afraid that seeing his sad and worried eyes would make me fall apart. All he did was lift my hand to lips and planted a kiss. He kept my hand there for several seconds w/ his eyes closed before he gently pulled me into his arm (as best he could since I was hooked into an IV and monitors). "It's over"
After being on a strong antibiotic and IV fluids and my fever going down I was allowed to go home. As my husband helped me to bed and kissed me goodnight he said in a soft sad voice "Please be home for good." And we both drifted off into a long deep slumber hand in hand and begin our journey to recover from this mess.
Dealing with Endometriosis, PCOS, Adenomyosis, low ovarian reserve, and a hostile uterus. Struggling to maintain a normal life while taking this journey. Putting my trust in God and hoping my writing can help others in similar positions.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Rushing Into Surgery
That night in the hospital was a horrible night. I felt like the longest night of my life and at the same time it all passed so quickly and can barely remember a thing. I remember having so much pain and pressure on my stomach, I remember seeing a huge bulging mass sticking out of my already massively fat stomach (thanks for nothing fertility meds!). I was throwing up every hour it seemed, though I honestly don't know how I could have managed to have anything left to lose. I was miserable. Finally after a late night/early morning draining, mix of morphine and anti-nausea meds I was able to get a little bit of sleep.
"Yes, you have my permission, take out whatever you need to keep her okay!" I could hear in his voice a fear that I've never heard before. I could hear the tears that he rarely ever cries. In our entire relationship my dear husband has only cried twice and I've only seen it once. Once was when we were dating and I had a bad pain day and he literally carried me into my house. The next day he told me he felt so helpless and on his walk home, in the darkness of the night in the mountains he dropped to his knees and cried out for a way to take this pain away. Since this day he has told me that seeing me rushed off for emergency surgery was 100 times worse than that night.
I was awake enough to hear this conversation. I remember willing myself to reach out and touch his hand, if I could just hold his hand for a second I know everything would be okay. My body failed to obey, it just wouldn't move, wouldn't respond, no matter how hard I tried it wouldn't work and my world begin to fade into darkness.
When I woke up again I was confused. I looked around at surroundings trying to figure out what was going on, willing myself to think back to my last memory. That's when I remember my husband's voice. I let out a gasp feeling frantic to find my love when a nurse appeared at my side and calmly explained I had been rushed into surgery. She took my vitals and begin the transition into my room while reassuring me that I would see my husband soon.
"They had to remove your left ovary and took part of your right. I'm so sorry babe, I had to let them." I gave him a small smile, reached for his hand "I love you, lets focus on that." So we sat (well I laid), hand in hand until I drifted off to sleep, content that for now we were still together and we were both okay.
"Yes, you have my permission, take out whatever you need to keep her okay!" I could hear in his voice a fear that I've never heard before. I could hear the tears that he rarely ever cries. In our entire relationship my dear husband has only cried twice and I've only seen it once. Once was when we were dating and I had a bad pain day and he literally carried me into my house. The next day he told me he felt so helpless and on his walk home, in the darkness of the night in the mountains he dropped to his knees and cried out for a way to take this pain away. Since this day he has told me that seeing me rushed off for emergency surgery was 100 times worse than that night.
I was awake enough to hear this conversation. I remember willing myself to reach out and touch his hand, if I could just hold his hand for a second I know everything would be okay. My body failed to obey, it just wouldn't move, wouldn't respond, no matter how hard I tried it wouldn't work and my world begin to fade into darkness.
When I woke up again I was confused. I looked around at surroundings trying to figure out what was going on, willing myself to think back to my last memory. That's when I remember my husband's voice. I let out a gasp feeling frantic to find my love when a nurse appeared at my side and calmly explained I had been rushed into surgery. She took my vitals and begin the transition into my room while reassuring me that I would see my husband soon.
"They had to remove your left ovary and took part of your right. I'm so sorry babe, I had to let them." I gave him a small smile, reached for his hand "I love you, lets focus on that." So we sat (well I laid), hand in hand until I drifted off to sleep, content that for now we were still together and we were both okay.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Being Admitted
What to write? That is my problem. How do I put into words the events of this past month? I'm not even sure my brain has had the ability to fully process what all happened.
It started off like any other day. I was taking a shower at the end of the day, feeling grateful that I had managed to walk my dog and clean the house. I was starting to feel that maybe I could recover from everything. That's when I noticed that my scar from my tubal removal was bulged out and sore to touch, like a dull achy bruised feeling, but there was no bruising. I thought it was odd, but didn't think to much about it.
As I lay trying to sleep I was noticing more and more the pain I was developing on my side, by morning my slightly bulged area was now a golf ball sticking out of my fat gut. I called my dr and came in to be seen. If you remember, I've been fighting with enlarged ovaries and had been going to have them drained every other month or so.
The appointment started out like all the rest, laying on that cold bed with the tech's eyes bulging at my now softball sized ovary. As he started moving the wand around to get measurements he noticed something odd where my tube should be (of course the tube is long gone) so he pulled Mr. Wandy over to get a better look. "oh that's not suppose to be there." This was not comforting to hear as the tech explained that I had a bunch of lose fluid floating around while he picked up the phone to page the doctor to come in.
The rest of it was a blur, but in no time at all I was admitted into the hospital and I suppose I must have called my husband since he was sitting in the chair next to my husband. The doctor came in to explain what was going one. I had had blood testing upon being admitted and my hormone levels were way off. My estrogen had been floating around 700-800 in my last few test, but it was now 989 and progesterone was 2. I also had an elevated hcg, but it was very very low. Not even enough to be pregnant, and I knew it wasn't even possible to have been. It was just one more random number that made no sense. My ca-125 had been tested a few days before and it was also elevated at 47 normal is <35. I had my fluid drained (boy was I tired of having a needle stuck into me). I needed to stay for now because my reproductive organs were filling with fluid so quickly it was hard to keep up. It was decided that if I was still having issues the next day I was going to have to go in for surgery to at least take a biopsy of my ovary. We needed to get to the bottom of what was going on.
The rest will come later. Sorry for the split post, it's the only way I'll be able to write this out.
It started off like any other day. I was taking a shower at the end of the day, feeling grateful that I had managed to walk my dog and clean the house. I was starting to feel that maybe I could recover from everything. That's when I noticed that my scar from my tubal removal was bulged out and sore to touch, like a dull achy bruised feeling, but there was no bruising. I thought it was odd, but didn't think to much about it.
As I lay trying to sleep I was noticing more and more the pain I was developing on my side, by morning my slightly bulged area was now a golf ball sticking out of my fat gut. I called my dr and came in to be seen. If you remember, I've been fighting with enlarged ovaries and had been going to have them drained every other month or so.
The appointment started out like all the rest, laying on that cold bed with the tech's eyes bulging at my now softball sized ovary. As he started moving the wand around to get measurements he noticed something odd where my tube should be (of course the tube is long gone) so he pulled Mr. Wandy over to get a better look. "oh that's not suppose to be there." This was not comforting to hear as the tech explained that I had a bunch of lose fluid floating around while he picked up the phone to page the doctor to come in.
The rest of it was a blur, but in no time at all I was admitted into the hospital and I suppose I must have called my husband since he was sitting in the chair next to my husband. The doctor came in to explain what was going one. I had had blood testing upon being admitted and my hormone levels were way off. My estrogen had been floating around 700-800 in my last few test, but it was now 989 and progesterone was 2. I also had an elevated hcg, but it was very very low. Not even enough to be pregnant, and I knew it wasn't even possible to have been. It was just one more random number that made no sense. My ca-125 had been tested a few days before and it was also elevated at 47 normal is <35. I had my fluid drained (boy was I tired of having a needle stuck into me). I needed to stay for now because my reproductive organs were filling with fluid so quickly it was hard to keep up. It was decided that if I was still having issues the next day I was going to have to go in for surgery to at least take a biopsy of my ovary. We needed to get to the bottom of what was going on.
The rest will come later. Sorry for the split post, it's the only way I'll be able to write this out.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Surrounded Yet Alone
Things have been so busy lately. I've been busy visiting with family and friends. I've been helping my brother (via FaceTime) sort out my aunt's belongings, yet I feel alone. I come home after a long day and I feel my heart is bursting. I've got friends going out of their way to avoid asking how I am or doing/saying anything that will trigger my feeling. It's not because they want to spare my feelings though I've learned it's because they can't deal with it and it makes them uncomfortable. Family doesn't bother considering our feelings at all. It's not even avoiding issues that may trigger sadness, it's not caring if those issues do. It's feeling like they have completely forgotten about the the losses and struggle with infertility that we agonized over sharing with them.
For awhile I was letting these things make me believe that I was failing. I was failing at moving on, I was taking too long to grieve, I was the problem. Then I realized that back in Sept. we decided to share with our closest friends and family that after losing our 5 & 6 children we had reached the end of the journey of trying to bring home a biological child. Family we talked in person, and for close friends we composed a letter because we decided we didn't want to sit through that conversation multiple times. Only 1 of those friends took time to respond at all (I'm very thankful for that friend). Nobody else bothered to say anything, and has worked hard to never have to face this. The first time we visited with any of them after sending out this letter there was always tension, like they were holding their breaths hoping we wouldn't bring it up. It wasn't that I was taking to long to grieve, it was that I was never allowed to.
In September not only did we decide to stop TTC, we also lost 2 more babies and I was rushed into ER surgery with my life hanging in the balance and my husband stuck on a plane worried he wasn't going to make it in time to see me alive again. Without having to make the choice to stop trying for this was a terrible time for us, yet we also had to add making the hardest decision we've ever had to make. All I feel from my family and so called friends is that I'm not allowed to feel sad about any of it and I'm just suppose to forget it and move on.
I'm good at doing this normally, at least on the outside and I've always had a ton of help because of my wonderful twitter family I've come to love and cherish, but sadly even there I'm struggling. I'm being left behind by everyone. We are the odd one even for the odd ones. We are the small percentage of couples who deal with infertility and we are the small percentage of couples who have had so losses, and we are a small percentage of infertile couples that have not had success with the help of the medical world. We are the small percent who stop TTC without having been able to bring home a child. I sign on to twitter and it's full of women going through treatments or women who have finally been able to have that wonderful miracle. Don't get me wrong, I'm so so happy for them, but suddenly my safe haven is full of mommy tweets. It's warms my heart, and while I was TTC it was a huge encouragement a reminder of what I was working hard for, but now? I just don't know. I'm being left behind. We are not trying and we have no child. I just don't fit in.
So you see, I'm surrounded by family, friends, and an amazing twitter community, but I'm completely alone. I remember when I was single I felt lonely and always thought I can't wait to married, I'll never be alone again. This is so true. I'm never alone, and he's always there: cuddling, listening, and loving me. As hard as he tries though, it's different for us. Our needs are different and for him as sad as he is that we lost children and can't have any biological ones, he is happy because I'm alive and my life is no longer being put in danger. He is now only focused on our current issues and goals, which take up much of his off time. Saving for a house so we can save up for adoption, and making sure I'm okay while I deal with all these test and problems that keep coming back to cancer scares. In my mind all these health problems make me feel terrified that it's one more thing making me unfit to be a mother and pushing adoption away as a possibility. For my husband he just wants me better and the rest will fall in place. He's so good about not worrying about the future and just focusing on the now.
So yes, I am surrounded by people who care, but I'm completely alone and being left behind in all areas of life. Friends plan outings behind my back because I'm the childless one who has nothing in common with them anymore. Friends and family alike take my photography as a joke half the time, loving my work when I do it for free, but running to Sears when I say this is my job/business and I can't keep giving away freebies. I've become this useless object because I don't have kids and there is no longer hope I'll bring any home. My in-law's have written me off and blame me for not providing my husband a child, even though he's made it clear it was a choice we made together and he more than me wanted to stop being worried about losing his wife. Now that my sis-in-law is pregnant I no longer matter at all. The first grand baby is all that matters, and our children are lost and forgotten as if they never existed and that is the worse pain of them all.
Isaiah James, Faith Lynn, Rory Tatum, Hayden Avery, Pearl Linda, and Eli Christian you are not forgotten.
For awhile I was letting these things make me believe that I was failing. I was failing at moving on, I was taking too long to grieve, I was the problem. Then I realized that back in Sept. we decided to share with our closest friends and family that after losing our 5 & 6 children we had reached the end of the journey of trying to bring home a biological child. Family we talked in person, and for close friends we composed a letter because we decided we didn't want to sit through that conversation multiple times. Only 1 of those friends took time to respond at all (I'm very thankful for that friend). Nobody else bothered to say anything, and has worked hard to never have to face this. The first time we visited with any of them after sending out this letter there was always tension, like they were holding their breaths hoping we wouldn't bring it up. It wasn't that I was taking to long to grieve, it was that I was never allowed to.
In September not only did we decide to stop TTC, we also lost 2 more babies and I was rushed into ER surgery with my life hanging in the balance and my husband stuck on a plane worried he wasn't going to make it in time to see me alive again. Without having to make the choice to stop trying for this was a terrible time for us, yet we also had to add making the hardest decision we've ever had to make. All I feel from my family and so called friends is that I'm not allowed to feel sad about any of it and I'm just suppose to forget it and move on.
I'm good at doing this normally, at least on the outside and I've always had a ton of help because of my wonderful twitter family I've come to love and cherish, but sadly even there I'm struggling. I'm being left behind by everyone. We are the odd one even for the odd ones. We are the small percentage of couples who deal with infertility and we are the small percentage of couples who have had so losses, and we are a small percentage of infertile couples that have not had success with the help of the medical world. We are the small percent who stop TTC without having been able to bring home a child. I sign on to twitter and it's full of women going through treatments or women who have finally been able to have that wonderful miracle. Don't get me wrong, I'm so so happy for them, but suddenly my safe haven is full of mommy tweets. It's warms my heart, and while I was TTC it was a huge encouragement a reminder of what I was working hard for, but now? I just don't know. I'm being left behind. We are not trying and we have no child. I just don't fit in.
So you see, I'm surrounded by family, friends, and an amazing twitter community, but I'm completely alone. I remember when I was single I felt lonely and always thought I can't wait to married, I'll never be alone again. This is so true. I'm never alone, and he's always there: cuddling, listening, and loving me. As hard as he tries though, it's different for us. Our needs are different and for him as sad as he is that we lost children and can't have any biological ones, he is happy because I'm alive and my life is no longer being put in danger. He is now only focused on our current issues and goals, which take up much of his off time. Saving for a house so we can save up for adoption, and making sure I'm okay while I deal with all these test and problems that keep coming back to cancer scares. In my mind all these health problems make me feel terrified that it's one more thing making me unfit to be a mother and pushing adoption away as a possibility. For my husband he just wants me better and the rest will fall in place. He's so good about not worrying about the future and just focusing on the now.
So yes, I am surrounded by people who care, but I'm completely alone and being left behind in all areas of life. Friends plan outings behind my back because I'm the childless one who has nothing in common with them anymore. Friends and family alike take my photography as a joke half the time, loving my work when I do it for free, but running to Sears when I say this is my job/business and I can't keep giving away freebies. I've become this useless object because I don't have kids and there is no longer hope I'll bring any home. My in-law's have written me off and blame me for not providing my husband a child, even though he's made it clear it was a choice we made together and he more than me wanted to stop being worried about losing his wife. Now that my sis-in-law is pregnant I no longer matter at all. The first grand baby is all that matters, and our children are lost and forgotten as if they never existed and that is the worse pain of them all.
Isaiah James, Faith Lynn, Rory Tatum, Hayden Avery, Pearl Linda, and Eli Christian you are not forgotten.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
New Year
The new year has come and gone and I'm still stuck not knowing where I belong. I'm no longer TTC, I'm childless, and my body is failing apart so I rarely get to socialize. I'm stuck being around pregnant women; my friends, my family, everywhere. I struggle with wanting to stay away, but also not wanting IF to make me also lose my life and my friends. It's taken so much from me.
I managed to make it through the gender reveal ultrasound for my sister-in-law. I have to admit though it's getting harder and harder to be around them. I'm trying not to let it get me down, but it is. I'm stuck in this weird cycle of not wanting to be around them and upset that they can't think of our feeling for just 1 second, and then the next minute I'm mad at myself for letting IF take all the joy out of gaining another niece.
My thoughts and feelings have been so all over the place I don't even know what I'm feeling or thinking half the time, which is a huge part of why I haven't even written in so long. For now I just attempt to move on I guess. I'll be seeing my doctor soon and figuring out a game plan to try to control my pain, and hopefully that will help me have a clearer head.
This morning I was woken up by a phone call from my brother that my Aunt passed away. She had no kids and her family had made her an outcast. She was very close with my mother though, they could have passed for twins. My brothers and I were her closest family. My oldest brother and I are trying to get everything squared away. Mostly my brother though since he lives near her. I live 2 states away and I'm still not allowed to travel much, so I'm going to be stuck here.
That's all I have for now. No happy notes to speak of.
I managed to make it through the gender reveal ultrasound for my sister-in-law. I have to admit though it's getting harder and harder to be around them. I'm trying not to let it get me down, but it is. I'm stuck in this weird cycle of not wanting to be around them and upset that they can't think of our feeling for just 1 second, and then the next minute I'm mad at myself for letting IF take all the joy out of gaining another niece.
My thoughts and feelings have been so all over the place I don't even know what I'm feeling or thinking half the time, which is a huge part of why I haven't even written in so long. For now I just attempt to move on I guess. I'll be seeing my doctor soon and figuring out a game plan to try to control my pain, and hopefully that will help me have a clearer head.
This morning I was woken up by a phone call from my brother that my Aunt passed away. She had no kids and her family had made her an outcast. She was very close with my mother though, they could have passed for twins. My brothers and I were her closest family. My oldest brother and I are trying to get everything squared away. Mostly my brother though since he lives near her. I live 2 states away and I'm still not allowed to travel much, so I'm going to be stuck here.
That's all I have for now. No happy notes to speak of.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Not a Joyful Christmas
As each day we get closer to Christmas I feel myself hating it more and more, and I hate that. Christmas is my favorite time of the year. I remember the few years I got with my mother. My first Christmas with my family was when I was 5, just a month short of being 6. This really was my first real Christmas.
My mother's joy at this time of the year was so catchy. I had been in foster homes and had so much sadness and abuse that I really didn't understand Christmas. All I knew is that sometimes it meant getting to go to church with my current foster family and maybe a few candy canes.
It all started on Thanksgiving day. It was the day we started the Christmas songs. I remember helping my mom. Each of us kids (I had 3 brothers) had a job to do to help with the dinner, mine was the gravy (I really just stirred it at this stage). I stood on my stool over the stove stirring my gravy, while Nat King Cole and Bing Cosby sang Christmas songs in the background, and watched my mother shine with joy while she scurried around the kitchen singing along with the wonderful music. She filled our home and our lives with Joy. Even when all kids were old enough to to believe in Santa (which sadly I never got to) she still took time to put foot prints on the hearth of our fireplace, she would drop glitter and the carrots were always nibbled, and the milk and cookies always eaten.
My last Christmas with my mother was when I was 11 and she was stuck in the hospital until Christmas Eve that year, yet even with that little set back her joy was still contagious. The staff all lit up when they were around her. The Christmases that followed were hard, but I was always determined to get the Joy of Christmas alive and to let the memories give me joy.
Despite some tough years I've managed to keep that joy, but this year I'm failing. For the first time ever I am totally and completely dreading Christmas. No matter where I go it's going to be filled with pregnant bellies and babies. Not a soul will remember our struggle or our babies. I feel myself fearing that I'm going to have an outburst. Since my SIL announced her pregnancy I've hated being around my MIL, the family as well, but mostly just my MIL. I am not sure how much longer I can pretend that what she is doing doesn't hurt. I just don't understand how a women who dealt with infertility herself can so easily forget about us. I'm at a point where I don't give a damn if I say something to upset them. I've been holding my tongue for the benefit of my husband, who is much better at assuming the best in people. While he knows and is hurt by what his MIL is doing to us, but he also is assuming that it is not done on purpose. I can even believe that, but shouldn't she be aware of what she is doing? Am I wrong for being hurt that she doesn't acknowledge our lost children. Am I wrong and being over sensitive that the whole family seems to have forgotten out long battle with IF?
I want to celebrate that baby, don't get me wrong. I already love that niece/nephew. Is it really necessary though to only carry conversation about the baby? Is it really important that most of the Christmas gifts are for the baby that isn't even born yet? I can understand my MIL's desire to get gifts for her grandchild, but does it have to be while we are all there at Christmas time? Isn't that what a shower is for, or just take them to her daughter's house. I think it is very insensitive to expect my husband and me to sit and watch while these gifts are opened. How can she so easily forget the pain of infertility. It's completely f***ed up and I'm tired of pretending it isn't.
I'm not sure how I'll make through this Christmas. I'm trying with all my might to remember the joy of Christmas, but I don't know how I can when I feel that our battle and our children are blatantly ignored, forgotten, and uncared about.
My mother's joy at this time of the year was so catchy. I had been in foster homes and had so much sadness and abuse that I really didn't understand Christmas. All I knew is that sometimes it meant getting to go to church with my current foster family and maybe a few candy canes.
It all started on Thanksgiving day. It was the day we started the Christmas songs. I remember helping my mom. Each of us kids (I had 3 brothers) had a job to do to help with the dinner, mine was the gravy (I really just stirred it at this stage). I stood on my stool over the stove stirring my gravy, while Nat King Cole and Bing Cosby sang Christmas songs in the background, and watched my mother shine with joy while she scurried around the kitchen singing along with the wonderful music. She filled our home and our lives with Joy. Even when all kids were old enough to to believe in Santa (which sadly I never got to) she still took time to put foot prints on the hearth of our fireplace, she would drop glitter and the carrots were always nibbled, and the milk and cookies always eaten.
My last Christmas with my mother was when I was 11 and she was stuck in the hospital until Christmas Eve that year, yet even with that little set back her joy was still contagious. The staff all lit up when they were around her. The Christmases that followed were hard, but I was always determined to get the Joy of Christmas alive and to let the memories give me joy.
Despite some tough years I've managed to keep that joy, but this year I'm failing. For the first time ever I am totally and completely dreading Christmas. No matter where I go it's going to be filled with pregnant bellies and babies. Not a soul will remember our struggle or our babies. I feel myself fearing that I'm going to have an outburst. Since my SIL announced her pregnancy I've hated being around my MIL, the family as well, but mostly just my MIL. I am not sure how much longer I can pretend that what she is doing doesn't hurt. I just don't understand how a women who dealt with infertility herself can so easily forget about us. I'm at a point where I don't give a damn if I say something to upset them. I've been holding my tongue for the benefit of my husband, who is much better at assuming the best in people. While he knows and is hurt by what his MIL is doing to us, but he also is assuming that it is not done on purpose. I can even believe that, but shouldn't she be aware of what she is doing? Am I wrong for being hurt that she doesn't acknowledge our lost children. Am I wrong and being over sensitive that the whole family seems to have forgotten out long battle with IF?
I want to celebrate that baby, don't get me wrong. I already love that niece/nephew. Is it really necessary though to only carry conversation about the baby? Is it really important that most of the Christmas gifts are for the baby that isn't even born yet? I can understand my MIL's desire to get gifts for her grandchild, but does it have to be while we are all there at Christmas time? Isn't that what a shower is for, or just take them to her daughter's house. I think it is very insensitive to expect my husband and me to sit and watch while these gifts are opened. How can she so easily forget the pain of infertility. It's completely f***ed up and I'm tired of pretending it isn't.
I'm not sure how I'll make through this Christmas. I'm trying with all my might to remember the joy of Christmas, but I don't know how I can when I feel that our battle and our children are blatantly ignored, forgotten, and uncared about.
Emotions Running Rampant
I've tried to start this post many times and never could find the words. I couldn't hold myself together long enough to try to find them. I still don't think I can truly express what has gone on, or what I'm feeling. I ask that you bare with me while I make an attempt to tell you.
I thought that I was done with the medical problems for awhile. I was taking a break from running test while my drs. did more research and we were done TTC. I had pain meds and I really thought that for the rest of the year I could just slide by and be semi alright with no new surprises Well I was wrong, which I should have known better that my body has it's own mind, not connected to mine, and will do whatever it feels like for absolutely no reason.
One night a few weeks ago while spending quality time with my husband my back started to spasm. I had never felt this before. It wasn't like my normal back cramping I get with AF or even what I've had in labor during m/c. It wasn't a pulled muscle either. It felt like a charlie horse in my back. For the few seconds it lasted (maybe about 10 seconds) I couldn't move, could barely catch my breath from the pain I was in. It quickly past and didn't come back, or so I thought.
A few days later I was hit with the spasm again. This wasn't a one time things this time. In about 5 minutes I had numerous spasms come and go, and throughout the next few days I had it all again. It kept getting worse and more frequent so I finally broke down and went to the doctor. Was told it could be kidney issues, low electrolyte issues, a new endo symptom, or I had hurt my back and didn't realize it. Since I was currently on AF (which made them even worse) we couldn't test to see if I had any blood in my urine. My dr. decided to do the easiest thing and prescribed me with a muscle relaxer and pain medicine. If it didn't get better with in a few days I would need to head back and do more testing. It seemed to be working and I was finally getting some sleep, but like all medicines my body got used to my meds and they no longer worked and my spasms came back with a vengeance. Wednesday I spent having a bunch of test done and now I wait with more powerful meds.
Now during all this time my emotions have been haywire. I was feeling so many things I couldn't get control of them. I have 1 pregnant friend whose due date is just a week before my twins due date, my sister-in-law has a due date just 3 weeks behind my twins. My sister-in-law got married at the end of June and she is already 14 weeks pregnant. I just don't understand at all. I know I should be happy, that is going to my niece/nephew. Instead I'm hurting, I'm jealous, and I'm angry. I hate visiting with my in-laws now, even when my SIL and her family are not there. This is their first grand baby so it's all they talk about. I'm surrounded by pregnant people and people with babies and I can't function anymore. I don't know how to look past my pain and be happy, which just makes me feel even worse.
One evening after having dinner with my IL's I came home and broke down. Sadly my husband got the brunt end of it. I blew up at him at that moment because I thought I was just sad that we were not pregnant and that our dream was gone, but in yelling I realized it was so much more than that. I realized it isn't just sadness that I'm not pregnant and that I hurt to be around it, but that I have felt ever since we shared we were done TTC with our close friends and family that we are expected to no longer feel any sadness about our lost children or our infertility. I feel completely forgotten. My MIL talks about the upcoming baby and being so happy for her first grandbaby. She tells us we better ask for something big for Christmas this year because after Christmas everything is going to the baby. I see all their gifts under the tree and 90% of them are to the baby. I am mad that our babies have been forgotten. This isn't her first grandbaby, just the first one that will make it home. Other than the day we shared of our losses (which we have only told them about 2) nothing has been said. When we told them we had decided to stop TTC (which MIL tried to tell us what to do to keep trying) they have ignored us, written us off. We won't be providing grandchildren, it's my fault, so they don't bother with us.
I don't feel it's anything I can bring up and share though because I feel that they would just think I was over dramatic/emotional, going into depression and need to be medicated. If I was completely honest with my feelings it would not go over well. I would be looked at as unable to move forward, as not being able to handle my grief or to be able to heal. That also frustrates me because part of healing is expressing. Holding it in will actually create more problems. Those that I do share; that I think about my babies, that I don't want them forgotten, think it's weird. They tell me it's time to move on.
Don't get me wrong, I know I need to move forward. I know that I have many wonderful things to be thankful about, and I have a hope that one day we will adopt and I will be a mother, but I will never ever forget about my babies.
I'm dreading Christmas this year. I'm so tired of being forgotten, of my babies being ignored. I'm mad that our IF is not taken seriously and that my IL's are mad that I'm not going to ever be able to provide a bio child for their son. I know that I need to focus on my husband and how he feels. He is sad and hurting for the children we lost and for the children we will never have, but he never holds it against me. He has never once viewed this as my problem (even though it is my body). He has always shared this burden and we've taken the journey together with IF as our problem to face as one.
I know that as time moves one I'll be able to get past this hurt and this anger, but it's going to make this Christmas season very difficult. I am just hoping and praying to make it through without any breakdown, or at least not until I'm home.
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