Happy Tears

Oh, hello, beautiful Wednesday. Three days ago, I was working my butt off performing various duties in my new role as supervisor at work. I held girls accountable, trained new staff, and successfully talked a girl into getting out of bed for about thirty minutes before she gave up and laid on the floor in her room again. I also monitored girls as they deep cleaned their home, exercised in their basement, and dealt with the under-staffing that results from a high-stress job with an even higher turnover rate. It was a long day. I was also acutely aware of my intake of fluids and food, as I was not allowed to eat or drink anything past midnight. Had I just experienced my first day of being a gremlin? Nope, I had surgery in the morning!

As you may remember from my months ago post about impending surgery, I was scheduled to have a diagnostic laparoscopy, which is the condensed way of saying getting a couple of cuts in my belly, pumping it full of gas, going through one of those holes with a camera, and identifying and destroying any endometriosis that could be found. This was to be a big surgery for me, since my infertility has been going on for at least the past four years and has been "unexplained" for the past two.

Monday morning came and went faster than even I could have predicted. I arrived at the hospital at 9:15 for a surgery scheduled for 11:40, but the surgery before mine was cancelled and I was able to be fit in even earlier. Seeing the nurse write on the white board that surgery was "NOW!!" had me a bit freaked out to say the least, but I was there and I was doing it and there was no turning back at that point.

After surgery, while in recovery, I chewed on ice chips to soothe my sore throat, and I tried to get any and all information out of my nurse, but she knew nothing about my procedure. It left me feeling frustrated, but the kind of calm, docile, frustrated that you can only feel when your heart is pumping about forty beats a minute and you're too drugged up to really know much beyond what's happening in that moment. I was aware enough, however, to ask the nurse how many incisions I had in my belly, since I knew that there would only be two if they hadn't found any endometriosis. When the nurse answered "three," I might have started crying. There was so much more than three cuts in me in that moment--there was hope.

When I finally got back into my room, where Trevor the nurse ("hey, that's my favorite brother's name too!") wheeled me in, I sipped my water and continued chomping on my ice, and waited for Joshua to come in. When he did, he had pictures and a diagnosis of for real moderate endometriosis, and I suddenly felt so validated and right for all of those times I knew something wasn't right and that there had to be an explanation for why everything wasn't working for us. I cried the happiest tears I could. I called my mom and my mother-in-law and others and cried to them with my slow, scratchy voice. I was relieved and hopeful and happy.

I never thought a diagnosis would make me feel this way, but when you've heard for  years you're probably just not "doing it right" or that you should "just adopt," it feels good to know that you're not crazy. I am not crazy. I have endometriosis. And we removed as much of it as we could find during surgery, and hopefully that's enough so that I can have biological children in my future. And if not? That's okay too. At least I know now what's wrong with me so that I can start dealing with it.

Hey world, I have endometriosis, and while it may not seem an occasion to cry happy tears, there have been many shed in my house this week. Gone are the days of "unexplained" infertility in my house. We finally have answers!!

Fertility Drugs, Ultrasounds, and Unsinkable Hope

Hey all!

I had my ultrasound on Friday and wanted to update anyone who was curious. So, here's the deal: Femara=Awesome. At least, I liked it way better than Clomid. Femara's worst side effect was that I felt a little goofy after taking it. Like my equilibrium was off. So I just didn't drive within so many hours after taking it. That was a pain because my work hours vary, so I couldn't take the medication at the same time every day. Eventually, I moved the time I took it to right before bed, and that seemed to help. And the longer I took it, the less weird I felt after taking it. So that was that.

At my ultrasound on Friday, I got to take a peek at my eggs and saw that I have two mature ones (one was WAY mature, measuring something like 30mm), and there were three little ones, one at a 16 that may have had time to get big enough for fertilization, but it wasn't likely. In a nutshell, everything looked great!

Then came the freaky part. My doctor gave me a prescription for Ovidrel, the HCG shot that makes your body ovulate. The rationale behind the shot is that because it boosts your body full of hormones, it causes an increase in your progesterone production as well (and makes you ovulate). And if my issue is low progesterone, it may help that. Also, we were already planning on using it for my IUI. But if you missed it, my IUI was cancelled for this month because of our work schedules conflicting too much. Our schedules and hours really are terrible. It makes it very difficult to plan appointments in advance. But that's shift work for you! If infertility has taught me anything, it's that flexibility really is a necessity in life.

So, on Friday night around 9:00, I gave my stomach a good ol' alcohol cleaning, took a few deep breaths, chickened out, and made Josh stick me with the needle. I was too scared to do it myself. Surprisingly, the needle itself wasn't the part that hurt. It was preloaded with my prescription and everything, and the needle was really tiny. The injection hurt when I could feel it pushing into my stomach, but it wasn't terrible. The injection site has been sore and feels bruised, but that was it. I haven't felt any different or weird, but the insert for Ovidrel has the funniest side effects (gas, hiccups, uncontrollable bladder, etc.).

And that was it. And if you're wondering, having a doctor prescribe you with timed intercourse is about as sexy as it sounds... But, until next month, we'll do what we've got to do...

In other fun news, Josh's Clomid prescription has been upped to every day instead of every other day, and his mood swings remind me of my own. I feel bad that his pain causes my happiness, but how many women can honestly say that they know their husbands understand hormone-induced mood swings? I know mine does. And I feel for him because I get it too. We're a hormonal mess around this house right now, and that's okay. Somehow it works out.

And if this month doesn't work, guess what? We'll just try again next month. And we'll keep on trying until we decide to do something different. Right now I'm mentally prepared for three IUIs and no in-vitro, but we'll see. The crazy thing about this human existence is that we are always changing and growing and it never stops. If you're lucky enough to have a little baby, please give it a tight squeeze, kiss those chubby cheeks, and remember how lucky you are--how there are millions of people like me who would do anything to be in your shoes. Don't forget it. Your worst day is someone else's daydream. I'm just going to keep doing whatever I can to make my daydream a reality. And in the meantime? Please keep praying for us. We feel it in our lives every single day that you do. We love and appreciate all of it. Let's cross our fingers and toes and hope I have some good news in a few weeks!! And if I don't? Next month is still a blank slate and we'll figure it out as it goes. But I promise to keep you updated, as always!

-B

Crossing Our Fingers, Crossing Our Toes

I have a big doctor's appointment on Wednesday, and I'm kind of freaking out.

Am I going to find out that I'm infertile?

Is my husband going to discover that he isn't producing enough swimmers?

Are we getting ourselves into years of expensive medical procedures?

What if the doctors can't find any problems and we're stuck back at square one? (That's my biggest fear right now, because that does happen.) Honestly, the lack of closure is what scares me the most right now. I can live with anything else... but I can't live without answers. I need to feel empowered about my reproductive health again.

I'm nervous about my relationship with my doctor. I haven't had a regular doctor in years, and the one I had as a child/teenager wasn't the greatest. I worry that I won't have an easy relationship with the doctor and that she and I won't be on the same page with my reproductive health and needs. I'm not super worried about this at the moment, but it is lingering at the back of my mind.

If we are infertile, I've always been supportive of adoptions. I almost adopted my niece a few years ago, and I would do it again in a heartbeat (for any child--not just my niece). If I find out that my husband and I won't be able to biologically parent children together, I'll be disappointed, but I will be glad to have closure. Unless you've been in my boat, it's impossible to know what kind of a stressor fertility problems can be. Closure is what I'm looking to get more than anything else right now. I mean, it'd be cool to get a baby too, but I'm open to the fact that my family may come together in a different way than I could have ever imagined.

I really hope that I'm going to find answers soon. I know that I'm only 24 and I'm young, but I've waited my entire life to be a mom, and I don't want to wait any longer than I have to.

Anyway, that's what's on my mind right now. I'm really excited for the closure that I hope this doctor's appointment will bring, and I hope that my fertility questions are answered quickly! I guess I will let the world know how Wednesday goes! And who knows? Maybe the doctor will tell me I'm already pregnant and just didn't know it (wouldn't that be great?)!