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!!

All About Suicide

Three friends of my friends have killed themselves in the last week (that I know of). I didn't know any of these individuals personally, but my Facebook feed has been blowing up with statuses about them, and I can't help but wonder if nobody ever told them that they could make a different choice? I mean, I get it. I understand depression. We all get it. We all have struggles. Every person in this life goes through issues and has to resolve tough conflicts. And I would be lying if I said I had never thought that maybe it would just be better for it to end. But I stuck it out, and it gets better, I promise. If you're feeling low (or want to know what to say to someone who is), then read on.

1. You are not alone. I promise. Whatever struggle you're going through, someone has gone through that same struggle. No one will ever have your exact same circumstances, but people have been in your shoes. Your pain may be great, but remember that people do get through it. If you don't believe me, find a support group. You'll find people just like you who have gone through similar situations. Even if nobody else has? You know who always has? You guessed it: Jesus. (See my Easter post if you want to read about my great Jesus epiphany.) You can always find comfort in prayer, even if your situation doesn't immediately change. If you still feel alone sometimes, that's okay. Just remember that you really aren't.

2. This is temporary. This is the hardest one for me to remember when I'm going through hard times. One of the biggest struggles with infertility is the fact that trying to get pregnant can go on for the rest of my reproductive life. I have an aunt who tried to conceive for ten years before adopting her son. But it's daunting to think of it that way. Don't do that to yourself. If you feel that your current struggles are never going to end, it's not true. High school ends at graduation. Seasons transition. Jobs change. Injured hearts heal. The emotional turmoil of being a victim fades with time. Even PTSD lessens as time goes on. This current, temporary stage where you are right now won't last forever. It might seem like it right now, but eventually this part will end. Don't make a permanent decision based on these factors. Because, one day, you're going to feel happy again. You're going to be really glad you're still around. Time will allow that, no matter what. If you stick it out, that is. Because your issues will never be resolved if you don't stick around to see them through.

3. The world would not be better off without  you. I didn't mention death in the last list. When close family members or friends die, you might feel like you will never feel happiness again. That part of the pain is temporary, but you will always feel some grief, just not the way you do right now. Everyone deals with death differently, and I haven't personally lost anyone that close to me yet, but I have felt the pain of grief. You have felt it too. Remember that feeling. That awful realization that you will never see that person again? If you die, that's the same feeling that you will single-handedly cause everyone who knows you. Probably even people who don't really know you but can empathize with your loved ones. Nobody likes that feeling. Don't be a jerk and hurt everyone. Don't deprive this world of your laughter and love and joy that will come again. You don't know what lies in your future if you don't stay until the end. You have great things ahead of you, and you will affect far more people during your time on earth than you will ever know. Don't cut short your potential by ending your life before its time is up.

I used to have a friend in junior high who always talked about killing himself. It was negative attention-seeking behavior, and he may not ever have actually meant it, but I always took the time to talk to him about it anyway. It was exhausting to tell him every single week why his life was worth living, but I did it anyway because I was his friend and I cared about him. I knew he was struggling, so I always made an extra effort to say hi in the hallways and be friendly when he seemed lonely. Most of his depression stemmed back to girl troubles, so I made a point of being friendly with his girlfriend too. They didn't last, but he also didn't kill himself. A few years ago, I met up with this friend, and he thanked me. He told me that he would never forget how I had reached out to him when he was depressed. I know things could have ended differently and that they still wouldn't have been my fault, because this was my friend's decision to make, but I am so glad that I took the time to be his friend anyway. We don't really keep in touch anymore, but I know that he knows he could talk to me about anything and that I would just listen. Be that friend. Everyone needs someone to talk to.

If your friends or loved ones are struggling and they choose to tell you about it, listen. Don't argue or give them advice (unless they ask!), but be there. You can't fix all of your friends' problems, but you can let them know that they are loved and that you'll be there for them when they need you. In reality, people care less about having their problems solved than they do about having someone there for them.

If you're feeling suicidal, get help. Call your parents or a close friend. If you don't feel like you can talk to anyone you know, call a suicide hotline and talk to someone you don't know. Call 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433) or 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255). Get help! Don't forget that you are loved. You are appreciated. You matter. This feeling is temporary, and it will pass!