Today I am feeling … sad.
I shouldn’t be. It’s my day off from work and I’ve only got two more days until another weekend. It’s my Mom’s birthday, and although she & Dad are in Aruba for a week of fun, I’m wishing that she’s having a wonderful sand n’ sun kinda day. And it’s bright as bright can be here in Suburban Detroit.
But it’s cold … really cold right now. And maybe that’s what I’m missing today. Is warmth. I want to be back in bed in my cozy pajamas snuggling with both my cats on either side of me. I want a steaming hot cup of cocoa with marshmallows to sip on. I want to flip randomly through the television and finally settle on turning it off and reading a good happy book.
Instead I’m sitting here at a local café, which normally I like to do, and freezing my tush off. And contemplating my life.
I just got back from my OB/Gyn office and I guess I’m feeling a little oversensitive. The reason I went today was to have an ultrasound. I had made an appointment to see my doc last week, in the midst of yet another painful period, which have been increasing in intensity over the past year. The ultrasound scheduled today was to see whether or not my endometriosis was back. And truthfully, even without having my doc review the images, I pretty much know that it is.
I know I haven’t gone into detail about my infertility past. I do that purposefully, because quite frankly I hate reliving that point of my life. But the basic jist is that I’ve had multiple scopes and even a laparotomy to clear out some pretty bad endo … only to find out that in the midst of my IVF work-up that I also had PCOS. So not only am I in pain pretty much with every cycle, but my hormones are seriously whacked-up. (Why do I have the urge to cross my arms like Rev. Run from Run DMC and say “Word!”?) And after the failed IVF and subsequent decision NOT to go through a frozen cycle with only one embie, I just drifted into a haze until that fateful day in November of 2006.
I know I’m a much better person emotionally now, especially since starting to blog about these issues. And I know that I’ve taken that small baby step forward towards the adoption front.
But yet …
Is it normal to still feel like a failure? That after ten years my body is still refusing to do what it’s told? I cycle every month now … every 27 days like clockwork. And every month it’s a constant reminder that this body refuses to become pregnant. And to top it off, it’s not just a physical reminder … it’s very much a painful “Geez, I can’t even think straight, let alone stand up straight or lie down without feeling the cramps”- kinda reminder.
I find out the actual results two weeks from now. And from there, it’s a decision of whether or not I’ll be treated medically or surgically. My doc does not want to start out surgically to clear out the endo, as there is always the risk of creating adhesions (or scarring).
What he would like to do is either put me on Lupron for a period of time, or place me on birth control pills. And I’m hesitant to do either. If you can believe this, during my whole “reproductive life,” I have never been on the pill. And quite honestly, I don’t feel like starting on it now … some 25 years after having my first period. As for Lupron, I hate what it did to me the first time around. While I don’t think I was a raving lunatic during those six months, I do think I was emotionally detached from everything and everyone (including Hubby) around me.
There’s a part of me that thinks, “Just take the damn things out already!” I mean, they’re not doing the job they’re supposed to be doing anyway. I’m just about at the point where I don’t want to have to deal with the pain anymore, both physically and emotionally. I don’t want to have to be reminded every month that I can’t get pregnant. I want to say that I’ve been able to close that chapter in my life – and by having my reproductive organs removed, it would certainly make that final. I would never be able to get pregnant and I would never have to think “what if …”
But then …
I guess it boils down to the fact that I know I probably don’t have a chance in H-E-double-hockey-sticks, but I still want to know I have the option to become pregnant. After all, my Aunt who tried for many years to get pregnant finally had her dream come true naturally some 20 years after getting married. And by that timeline, I’m more than half-way there.