I'm in a lot of pain right now...much more than I thought I would be. My shoulders and ribs hurt so bad from being blown up with carbon dioxide and from the anesthesia . My throat is wildly sore from the tube being forced down it. And every movement I make hurts my stomach area. I have two incision sites - one right near my belly button and the other, a longer cut, is located at my lower left abdomen (practically on top of my c-section scar). I was prescribed vicodin and ibuprofen, but neither seem to be helping much with the pain. I know I'd be in much worse pain with no pain meds, though. I'm just very grateful that I have a 3-day weekend to take it easy and allow my body to heal.
But let me tell you about yesterday. Firstly, I woke up and read my daily devotion, as I do most every morning, and the Bible verse the devotion reflected on was as follows:
"Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." - John 8:32. Isn't that the most appropriate Bible verse for me to read yesterday?
Despite that Bible verse and devotion making me feel better, I was still very quiet and tense most of the morning. Aaron sensed it and waited for me to come to him in conversation and hugs. When we arrived at the hospital at 10:00 and checked in with the admit people, I almost immediately went into the surgical center where they prepped me for the O.R. Before that, though, they required I provide a urine sample for a pregnancy test. What a big slap in the face! I know it's standard procedure to ask all menstruating women going into surgery, but I just wanted to be like, "Uh, hello! I'm not pregnant, hence why I'm here!"
They tagged me with the typical hospital wristband with my name, date of birth, etc., but also with a huge red wristband saying "ALLERGY ALERT." I found out the hard way that I am allergic to Reglan, an IV medicine given to help nausea. That's another interesting story. Remind me to tell you sometime. I got decked up in the oh-so-flattering hospital gown, sat down in the surprisingly comfortable twin-sized hospital bed and waited and waited and waited to be wheeled away.
So, at about 11:40, the O.R. nurse came in and rolled me away without giving me a chance to get one last kiss from Aaron. Luckily, he was able to go with me into the next waiting area, where we were to have a brief consult with Dr. Dekhordi (my OB-GYN performing the surgeries), the anesthesiologist and another nurse. Soon after getting to this second waiting area, Aaron gave me a kiss. He said he didn't want them to whisk me away without getting a proper goodbye again. I thought that was very sweet and it made me tear up.
Some much-needed comic relief came from the old man next to us. We were separated from him only by a curtain, and he was also soon going in for surgery. During his consult with his doctor, the doctor asked if he had a wife or any family waiting in the waiting room for him. He said, "No, I'm looking for a wife, though," and then he mumbled something about how he's old and has no money and so he's having a hard time finding a lady. Aaron and I couldn't help but laugh. We couldn't have asked for a more perfect timing for a good laugh.
At 12:13 I entered the bright, sterile operating room. Looking around at all the machinery made me dizzy and overwhelmed, so I just kept my focus on my doctor's kind eyes. Once they got me all set up and attached to the machines (you know, the heart rate monitor and things like that), the anesthesiologist worked her magic. Last words I remember were, "Sweet dreams," from Dr. Dekhordi and "Go to Hawaii," from the nurse. I felt my mind go blank and my body slump into complete relaxation.
Next thing I knew, it was 2:15 and I was waking up in the anesthesia recovery room with two new nurses. They asked how I was feeling and all that good stuff. I laid in there for probably 10 minutes while they monitored me and made sure I was waking up okay. Then, one of them wheeled me back to the surgical center and on the way we picked up my very anxious husband waiting in the hallway.
Aaron had received two pages while I was gone. The first one was sent when the surgery was done, the second one was sent when I was leaving the recovery area, so he was expecting me. It was so good to see him, but I was still so out of it. I kept asking him the same questions, and he'd look at me and be like, "You know you just asked me that, right?" And I honestly wouldn't remember. It was trippy!
At the surgical center, they took my vitals a few times, gave me some juice and water, made sure I could walk and pee, and then discharged me. I think I should've stayed longer, but I made myself get up and walk, even though I felt dizzy and light-headed. I just wanted to get home. Having been there for 6 hours already, I wanted to go home and lay on my comfortable couch and have Aaron take care of me, rather than all those strangers.
As for the results (drum roll please)...absolutely nothing wrong was found!!! I haven't talked to my doctor yet, but she told Aaron everything while I was still under. So, with no adhesions, endometriosis, cysts or anything else that could be causing problems, I'm absolutely dumbfounded! Don't get me wrong, I'm completely happy and grateful nothing wrong was found. Thank you, God! But with both of us being tested now, and both of us showing to be completely fine, and the two of us having proved that we are a fertile couple and able to conceive, what the heck is going on???
I can tell you what's going on...God is what's going on! There are many causes of infertility, both male and female factors, but if everything is fine and we are still unable to conceive, I truly believe God is withholding us from a baby right now. For what reason? I don't know. But God's absolutely perfect reason will show itself in due time. Amazingly, 30% of couples having trouble conceiving fall under this "unexplained infertility" category, so Aaron and I are not alone in this. I just wonder how common unexplained secondary infertility is, though. Probably not too common.
But, instead of questioning why things are the way they are, Aaron and I have to face reality head on and fight through this, allowing God to show us His larger than life purpose for our lives as parents.
What is our next step? Well, to tell you the truth, Aaron and I are still discussing it. I have my post-op appointment with Dr. Dekhordi on Thursday. She has already given me the contact information for the infertility clinic she refers patients to. There is an office in Modesto, but the main offices are in the bay area. Big gulp. Aaron and I are going to have a big decision to make within the next month or so, but we are going into this next step prayerfully and hopefully.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Good to Go
I had my pre-op today. Aaron and Ella came with me, which made it...well...a much LOUDER visit. But, it also made it more family-oriented. My operation isn't all about me...it's about my family and my future family. Aaron insisted on being there, and I'm glad he did. His presence helps me feel better in any situation. Plus, the doctor needed to walk him through everything, not just me. I'm going to be asleep and drugged up for most of the day, so Aaron's going to have to know what's going on. She said she will come find Aaron after the procedures are done to let him know the results. I hope he brings a notepad and pencil becomes once I wake up, I'm going to want to know VERBATIM what my doctor said. Haha! Well, he'll also need a notepad for "rubbing purposes." For those of you who know my husband, he loves (and I mean LOVES) rubbing books. Even if it's just a sheet of paper, you'll find his thumb flicking the corner of it. He'll need a phonebook to get him through Thursday with sanity.
So, as you all know, I'm scheduled to have the laparoscopy and hysteroscopy done, but what I didn't know is that my doctor will also be performing a D & C (dilation & curettage), in which the doctor is going to go spoon away my uterine lining (my endometrium) for testing purposes. Fun, right? Because I'm having the D & C done, my doctor informed me I won't be able to have sex for 2 weeks, due to the risk of infection. Ummmm...WHAT???? Did she really just say that? No, it's not because I'm a sex fiend and gotta have it (haha!), but because that means I won't be able to try to conceive this cycle. I'll be ovulating before those 2 weeks are up. I was devastated to hear that news, but I don't want to risk an infection thereby causing worse problems. Needless to say, my heart still sinks knowing I can't even try this cycle...not even once. Maybe I'll ovulate late.
Walking through the hospital, having my blood drawn, signing my life away in paperwork and speaking with my doctor today all made everything seem more real. I'm good to go! I'm ready! I'm MORE than ready! I'm ready to check this off my list and move onto the next step. What my next step will be depends on what the doctor finds, but whatever the next step is, it's one step closer to that positive home pregnancy test. Oh, I simply cannot wait for that day!
Thank you, God, for my Ella, who you have blessed with a natural glow, a beautiful shine and an amazing spirit. She outshines all the girls, not only in her ballet class, but in the entire world! There is no other little girl like my Ella Bella, and for that, I am the luckiest mom.
So, as you all know, I'm scheduled to have the laparoscopy and hysteroscopy done, but what I didn't know is that my doctor will also be performing a D & C (dilation & curettage), in which the doctor is going to go spoon away my uterine lining (my endometrium) for testing purposes. Fun, right? Because I'm having the D & C done, my doctor informed me I won't be able to have sex for 2 weeks, due to the risk of infection. Ummmm...WHAT???? Did she really just say that? No, it's not because I'm a sex fiend and gotta have it (haha!), but because that means I won't be able to try to conceive this cycle. I'll be ovulating before those 2 weeks are up. I was devastated to hear that news, but I don't want to risk an infection thereby causing worse problems. Needless to say, my heart still sinks knowing I can't even try this cycle...not even once. Maybe I'll ovulate late.
Walking through the hospital, having my blood drawn, signing my life away in paperwork and speaking with my doctor today all made everything seem more real. I'm good to go! I'm ready! I'm MORE than ready! I'm ready to check this off my list and move onto the next step. What my next step will be depends on what the doctor finds, but whatever the next step is, it's one step closer to that positive home pregnancy test. Oh, I simply cannot wait for that day!
Thank you, God, for my Ella, who you have blessed with a natural glow, a beautiful shine and an amazing spirit. She outshines all the girls, not only in her ballet class, but in the entire world! There is no other little girl like my Ella Bella, and for that, I am the luckiest mom.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
I Hope You Dance
Aaron graduated today with his Master's in Special Education! Hip, hip, hooray!!! His parents flew down for the momentous occasion and we got to enjoy a wonderful weekend visit with two of our favorite people. The laughs are unending, the conversations are natural and the love is mutually bonding. Saying goodbye was hard (so hard!), but that didn't take away from the excitement today brought. The echos of our screams must've been heard all the way to Oregon as we hooped and hollered for our proud graduate walking across the stage to receive his diploma. Janice's whistle is still ringing in my ears. Haha! What a proud (and relieved) wife I am. Relieved that this 2-1/2 year journey is now over (minus the Thesis he has to conclude this summer). Since October 2007 a lot of Aaron's free time has been spent doing school work. Ella and I are finally going to have our #1 man back! WOO HOO!!!
The guest speaker was amazing and at the end of her speech, she read some of the lyrics from, "I Hope You Dance," by Leeann Womack. My dad had dedicated this song to me my first year at U.C.S.D., while I was battling trying to find myself in the huge, crazy unknown world of college. Hearing the lyrics emotionally brought me back to the hard times I had in college, and how my dad, my mom and my family hoped that I would always dance...that I would not let life bring me down, but rather live it to the fullest, regardless of the difficulties and uncertainties it may bring. The lyrics definitely speak to the infertility battle I'm going through right now.
"I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.
I hope you dance....I hope you dance.
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin' might mean takin' chances, but they're worth takin',
Lovin' might be a mistake but it's worth makin',
Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter,
When you come close to sellin' out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance."
On other news, I'm going to have my laparoscopy and hysteroscopy surgeries done this coming Thursday. I will be put under for the procedures, but soon after waking up, my doctor will be able to tell me what she found (if anything) that may be causing my infertility. A part of me hopes they don't find anything, but then that doesn't help us determine why I'm not getting pregnant. A part of me hopes I wake up to the doctor saying she found some endometriosis, she removed it and that I should be good to go and able to conceive right away! And then, there's the part of me that is scared that something really bad might be found...something that cannot be fixed. I know I can't think like that, but sometimes that is where my mind takes me. However, if nothing wrong is found, then Aaron and I are still living in this dense fog of unanswered questions...well, one question in particular, "Why can we not get pregnant again???"
Also, this coming Thursday, my father-in-law starts his radiation treatment for what started out as prostate cancer, but has since spread to other area(s). Even though I can in no way relate to Dan and what he's going through (the idea of having cancer is inconceivable and I won't even begin to claim I can understand what he and Janice are going through), but what I do know is that we both are victims of our own bodies. We are powerless. We both don't know why "it" (being infertility or cancer) has happened to either of us, but it is what we both have to live through, boldly and with hope and faith. We both hope to take charge of our body and fight the battle and win, but in the meantime, we both just have to play the waiting game...taking each day, each month, as it comes with our heads held high, with tears buried within and with our family by our sides. The chemicals Dan takes, the fertility drugs I've taken, the countless visits to our doctors, the tears shared with family members, the sacrifices we've had to make in our lives have all united Dan and I at this stage in each of our lives, and I can only pray that we both come out happy, healthy, cancer-free and pregnant (well, not Dan on that last one!). Through all of this, at least for me, I'm realizing that even though I am powerless to my infertility, God is in full control. With bad comes good and nothing in my life nor Dan's life are not planned or given to us without a purpose. Hard to always see that reason when in so much pain and so uncertain about the future, but it's there, and it is that reason, that divine purpose, that is helping me pull through this. Love you, Dan! You are always in my prayers.
The guest speaker was amazing and at the end of her speech, she read some of the lyrics from, "I Hope You Dance," by Leeann Womack. My dad had dedicated this song to me my first year at U.C.S.D., while I was battling trying to find myself in the huge, crazy unknown world of college. Hearing the lyrics emotionally brought me back to the hard times I had in college, and how my dad, my mom and my family hoped that I would always dance...that I would not let life bring me down, but rather live it to the fullest, regardless of the difficulties and uncertainties it may bring. The lyrics definitely speak to the infertility battle I'm going through right now.
"I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.
I hope you dance....I hope you dance.
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin' might mean takin' chances, but they're worth takin',
Lovin' might be a mistake but it's worth makin',
Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter,
When you come close to sellin' out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance."
On other news, I'm going to have my laparoscopy and hysteroscopy surgeries done this coming Thursday. I will be put under for the procedures, but soon after waking up, my doctor will be able to tell me what she found (if anything) that may be causing my infertility. A part of me hopes they don't find anything, but then that doesn't help us determine why I'm not getting pregnant. A part of me hopes I wake up to the doctor saying she found some endometriosis, she removed it and that I should be good to go and able to conceive right away! And then, there's the part of me that is scared that something really bad might be found...something that cannot be fixed. I know I can't think like that, but sometimes that is where my mind takes me. However, if nothing wrong is found, then Aaron and I are still living in this dense fog of unanswered questions...well, one question in particular, "Why can we not get pregnant again???"
Also, this coming Thursday, my father-in-law starts his radiation treatment for what started out as prostate cancer, but has since spread to other area(s). Even though I can in no way relate to Dan and what he's going through (the idea of having cancer is inconceivable and I won't even begin to claim I can understand what he and Janice are going through), but what I do know is that we both are victims of our own bodies. We are powerless. We both don't know why "it" (being infertility or cancer) has happened to either of us, but it is what we both have to live through, boldly and with hope and faith. We both hope to take charge of our body and fight the battle and win, but in the meantime, we both just have to play the waiting game...taking each day, each month, as it comes with our heads held high, with tears buried within and with our family by our sides. The chemicals Dan takes, the fertility drugs I've taken, the countless visits to our doctors, the tears shared with family members, the sacrifices we've had to make in our lives have all united Dan and I at this stage in each of our lives, and I can only pray that we both come out happy, healthy, cancer-free and pregnant (well, not Dan on that last one!). Through all of this, at least for me, I'm realizing that even though I am powerless to my infertility, God is in full control. With bad comes good and nothing in my life nor Dan's life are not planned or given to us without a purpose. Hard to always see that reason when in so much pain and so uncertain about the future, but it's there, and it is that reason, that divine purpose, that is helping me pull through this. Love you, Dan! You are always in my prayers.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Being Content No Matter the Situation
Church was amazing this morning! We had a guest speaker, Dave Dravecky, who was once an all-star picture for the S.F. Giants, before being diagnosed with cancer, resulting in him losing his pitching arm, his career, his life as he knew it. He spoke about his journey through finding the secret to being content no matter the circumstance. The Bible verse we reflected on was:
“I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:11-13)
He felt enlightened and strong in his faith soon after his arm being amputated and surviving cancer, realizing that perhaps God is going to use His story to touch others and excited about his new future. But the excitement soon wore off and his trials and tough times grew, turning from days to week, weeks to months, and then months to years. He found himself in a dark, angry place. I can completely relate. My days of trying to conceive have added up to 20 months, and with that comes so much anger. Yes, I'm angry towards God. Rather than standing on the mountaintop in complete clarity of my faith and my purpose, I'm stuck in the wilderness where I find myself feeling quite absent from God. I believe in Him and I am dedicated to living a Christian life, but through this journey of infertility (my "wilderness"), I am having a hard time completely feeling His presence.
But, needless to say, I spend lots of time in devotion and prayer everyday, allotting some time each day to my relationship with God, not because it's the "right" thing to do, but because it really does help me. Even though I don't always feel His presence, I'm determined to seek Him through all of this...seek His purpose and provision for my life.
“I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:11-13)
He felt enlightened and strong in his faith soon after his arm being amputated and surviving cancer, realizing that perhaps God is going to use His story to touch others and excited about his new future. But the excitement soon wore off and his trials and tough times grew, turning from days to week, weeks to months, and then months to years. He found himself in a dark, angry place. I can completely relate. My days of trying to conceive have added up to 20 months, and with that comes so much anger. Yes, I'm angry towards God. Rather than standing on the mountaintop in complete clarity of my faith and my purpose, I'm stuck in the wilderness where I find myself feeling quite absent from God. I believe in Him and I am dedicated to living a Christian life, but through this journey of infertility (my "wilderness"), I am having a hard time completely feeling His presence.
But, needless to say, I spend lots of time in devotion and prayer everyday, allotting some time each day to my relationship with God, not because it's the "right" thing to do, but because it really does help me. Even though I don't always feel His presence, I'm determined to seek Him through all of this...seek His purpose and provision for my life.
Okay, enough of that! This weekend...we got a pool! A 10-foot in diameter blow-up pool, holding water up to Ella's chest. Ella was so excited once we set it up! If this weekend is any leeway to what the summer holds, I think Aaron and Ella are going to grow some fins. They are quite the fish!
All in all, it was a wonderful weekend, despite feeling down about my IUI failure. I plan on calling my doctor first thing tomorrow morning to schedule my laparoscopy and hysteroscopy. Hopefully I'll be able to have the procedures done this coming week, but scheduling a mutually convenient time for me, my doctor and the hospital may be a bit tricky. I don't want to put it off any longer, though. I'm pretty nervous/anxious, so the sooner I can get this all over, the better! I will keep you all informed. Thanks so much for your prayers and support.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
This Too Shall Pass
"This too shall pass." Words my mom tells me all the time. Although hard to comprehend how or when things will get better, all difficult times come to an end. There is always "light at the end of the tunnel" or "hope for a better tomorrow" or [insert any other expression you can think of related to getting through tough times]. And even though hearing those expressions and knowing the words spoken are true, it doesn't make those hard moments any easier. It doesn't take away the pain from the present. It doesn't take away the pain of a failed IUI.
Yes, you heard right. The IUI did not work for me and you can't imagine the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach I'm feeling. The completely overwhelm of hopelessness, despair and abandonment. I want to throw in the towel and just yell at the world! I want to curl up in a ball on the couch and never, ever get up. I want to cry without humility, allowing the held back tears to fall down my face. I want to talk with God face-to-face and ask him, "Why? Why are you doing this?" I want to hug Ella tighter and embrace each moment with her, holding onto whatever "babyness" I can still find in her, somehow thinking that if I still have a baby, I won't want one as bad.
The truth is...Ella is not a baby anymore. She is blossoming into a beautiful little girl, each day reminding me of her growth and maturity.
The truth is...I can't look to God for answers in black and white. I can only pray for understanding.
The truth is...I do cry, all the time. Sometimes, in my office at work, hoping that I won't need to take a call or help a client. Sometimes, in the shower...actually, a lot in the shower. Sometimes, on the phone with Aaron. Sometimes, in the car when a certain song plays on K-LOVE. Sometimes, when I'm out running errands or at an appointment of some sort and somebody asks, "Is she your only one?"
The truth is...I do allow myself to let my depression get the best of me. Aaron can always tell right before I'm about to start my period...the chores around the house don't get done. The dishes pile up, the loads of laundry don't get folded, Ella's toys don't get picked up. Does he get mad? No, because he knows. He simply kisses my forehead and does what I didn't get around to finishing.
The truth is...I don't yell, but I do feel like screaming at anybody and everybody. I keep my composure and usually when I'm upset and this sad, words don't exit my mouth. I'm quiet...very quiet. There's not much to say, let alone yell. Just as a lot of you don't know what to say to me to make me feel better, I also don't know what to say to describe how I'm feeling. This blog is my only avenue of communicating my true feelings, well, unless you're Aaron, then you hear and know everything.
The truth is...I want to throw in the towel...so bad!!! So often I tell Aaron that I want to give up, but I know that's not in me. There's no way I can allow for a month to pass where Aaron and I don't try and conceive. Even though not getting pregnant time and time again has left me so weak and so sad, God will always give me enough strength and hope to tell myself, "There's always next month."
So, with the failure of the IUI, my doctor, Aaron and I have decided its best to have a laparoscopy performed. If you aren't familiar with what it is, google it! Basically, my doctor will insert a tube-like camera through my navel into my abdominal cavity and uterus. Before doing so, she will blow me up like a balloon with CO2, lifting my abdomen so that she can get a better look at my internal organs. What the doctor will look for are signs of endometriosis, my c-section scar, cysts and any other lesions that may be causing my infertility. If she finds anything, she'll remove it for a biopsy.
I have my pre-op appointment tomorrow. I wish I was seeing my doctor tomorrow to find out I'm pregnant, but I guess that will just have to wait for another time.
Yes, you heard right. The IUI did not work for me and you can't imagine the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach I'm feeling. The completely overwhelm of hopelessness, despair and abandonment. I want to throw in the towel and just yell at the world! I want to curl up in a ball on the couch and never, ever get up. I want to cry without humility, allowing the held back tears to fall down my face. I want to talk with God face-to-face and ask him, "Why? Why are you doing this?" I want to hug Ella tighter and embrace each moment with her, holding onto whatever "babyness" I can still find in her, somehow thinking that if I still have a baby, I won't want one as bad.
The truth is...Ella is not a baby anymore. She is blossoming into a beautiful little girl, each day reminding me of her growth and maturity.
The truth is...I can't look to God for answers in black and white. I can only pray for understanding.
The truth is...I do cry, all the time. Sometimes, in my office at work, hoping that I won't need to take a call or help a client. Sometimes, in the shower...actually, a lot in the shower. Sometimes, on the phone with Aaron. Sometimes, in the car when a certain song plays on K-LOVE. Sometimes, when I'm out running errands or at an appointment of some sort and somebody asks, "Is she your only one?"
The truth is...I do allow myself to let my depression get the best of me. Aaron can always tell right before I'm about to start my period...the chores around the house don't get done. The dishes pile up, the loads of laundry don't get folded, Ella's toys don't get picked up. Does he get mad? No, because he knows. He simply kisses my forehead and does what I didn't get around to finishing.
The truth is...I don't yell, but I do feel like screaming at anybody and everybody. I keep my composure and usually when I'm upset and this sad, words don't exit my mouth. I'm quiet...very quiet. There's not much to say, let alone yell. Just as a lot of you don't know what to say to me to make me feel better, I also don't know what to say to describe how I'm feeling. This blog is my only avenue of communicating my true feelings, well, unless you're Aaron, then you hear and know everything.
The truth is...I want to throw in the towel...so bad!!! So often I tell Aaron that I want to give up, but I know that's not in me. There's no way I can allow for a month to pass where Aaron and I don't try and conceive. Even though not getting pregnant time and time again has left me so weak and so sad, God will always give me enough strength and hope to tell myself, "There's always next month."
So, with the failure of the IUI, my doctor, Aaron and I have decided its best to have a laparoscopy performed. If you aren't familiar with what it is, google it! Basically, my doctor will insert a tube-like camera through my navel into my abdominal cavity and uterus. Before doing so, she will blow me up like a balloon with CO2, lifting my abdomen so that she can get a better look at my internal organs. What the doctor will look for are signs of endometriosis, my c-section scar, cysts and any other lesions that may be causing my infertility. If she finds anything, she'll remove it for a biopsy.
I have my pre-op appointment tomorrow. I wish I was seeing my doctor tomorrow to find out I'm pregnant, but I guess that will just have to wait for another time.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Happy Belated Mother’s Day
Yesterday was Mother's Day. A day where moms who have lost a child are reminded of what they don't have. A day where moms who are experiencing their first year as a mother celebrate with their little one tightly held in their arms. A day where moms with children far away get to feel their child's close embrace and words of love.
A day where I gratefully hold my Ella and listen to her love-filled, "Happy Mother's Day," but also a day where my mind is focused to my infertility.
Aaron, Ella and I went to church in the morning and the message was exactly what I needed to hear and feel, especially with it coming on Mother's Day. It was about trading in my agenda for God's agenda, surrendering the life I have planned to the life God has planned for me. After the message, the pastor encouraged each of us to write what we wish to surrender to God on a small card that and, if compelled, walk it up to the stage and place it on the step, place it before God. While the beautiful singer and guitarist were performing, I wrote down, "My infertility," on the card, knowing that surrendering this journey to Him, surrendering each day, surrendering my body, to Him and His calling for my life is what I need to do.
Aaron, knowing that I wouldn't walk it up to the stage, looked at me with the card on my lap and asked if I wanted him to walk it up to the stage. I stared back at him with tear-filled eyes and quietly whispered, "Yes." At that moment, I felt something shift in my heart. I felt release, calmness, peace.
The storm I am living through right now will soon pass, and I will see blue skies and sunlight. Living through a storm usually isn't perceived as one of the more happy times in one's life. But maybe living through a storm is not all bad? Just like the stormy winter season is always followed by the season of growth and renewal, a season of warm sunshine and beautiful flowers, the "storm" in one's life helps surface things that would not otherwise surface, things that need to be exposed in order to become stronger. And I am absolutely certain that my relationship with God would not be nearly as strong as it is now had I gotten pregnant right away. And, in a way, not having a second child right now, but instead a stronger relationship with God, makes me feel that possibly I got the better end of the deal. God knows what I need more than I do, and perhaps he knew that Him not giving me a second child, would only bring me closer to Him. Maybe I need that more than I need a second child right now?
God always makes sure there is a silver lining to every cloud. My storm cloud is very big and very dark, which only means that someday I will get to see the sun shining brightly behind the cloud, creating a beautiful silver lining...my baby.
A day where I gratefully hold my Ella and listen to her love-filled, "Happy Mother's Day," but also a day where my mind is focused to my infertility.
Aaron, Ella and I went to church in the morning and the message was exactly what I needed to hear and feel, especially with it coming on Mother's Day. It was about trading in my agenda for God's agenda, surrendering the life I have planned to the life God has planned for me. After the message, the pastor encouraged each of us to write what we wish to surrender to God on a small card that and, if compelled, walk it up to the stage and place it on the step, place it before God. While the beautiful singer and guitarist were performing, I wrote down, "My infertility," on the card, knowing that surrendering this journey to Him, surrendering each day, surrendering my body, to Him and His calling for my life is what I need to do.
Aaron, knowing that I wouldn't walk it up to the stage, looked at me with the card on my lap and asked if I wanted him to walk it up to the stage. I stared back at him with tear-filled eyes and quietly whispered, "Yes." At that moment, I felt something shift in my heart. I felt release, calmness, peace.
The storm I am living through right now will soon pass, and I will see blue skies and sunlight. Living through a storm usually isn't perceived as one of the more happy times in one's life. But maybe living through a storm is not all bad? Just like the stormy winter season is always followed by the season of growth and renewal, a season of warm sunshine and beautiful flowers, the "storm" in one's life helps surface things that would not otherwise surface, things that need to be exposed in order to become stronger. And I am absolutely certain that my relationship with God would not be nearly as strong as it is now had I gotten pregnant right away. And, in a way, not having a second child right now, but instead a stronger relationship with God, makes me feel that possibly I got the better end of the deal. God knows what I need more than I do, and perhaps he knew that Him not giving me a second child, would only bring me closer to Him. Maybe I need that more than I need a second child right now?
God always makes sure there is a silver lining to every cloud. My storm cloud is very big and very dark, which only means that someday I will get to see the sun shining brightly behind the cloud, creating a beautiful silver lining...my baby.
Friday, May 7, 2010
One Less Thing to Worry About
With the influx of teachers losing their jobs, Aaron and I feel incredibly blessed that he was offered a contract for the 2010-2011 school year. The fear of him possibly not being asked back next year was very real for us, leaving us feeling uncertain about what our financial future would hold for us. But the excitement (oh the excitement!) we feel far exceeds the worry we experienced the past couple months. We are so happy (and relieved)!!!! The months before his evaluation, I would check edjoin.org EVERYDAY to see if there were special education teaching positions available nearby. They were far and few between. We applied for all the jobs that he did qualify for, but the responses simply reaffirmed our worry of Aaron being jobless coming the beginning of the next school year.
But then the magical words were spoken on April 28th, "We'd like you to come back next year!" I know Aaron wanted to jump up and yell, "YES, YES, YES, I'll accept!" but he professionally displayed his gratitude. Thank you, God, once again, for knowing our needs and filling our needs.
Aaron's evaluation began at 2:00 in the afternoon. At that time, I asked Ella if she wanted to pray for Daddy. She said, "Okay!" really excitedly. She sat down across from me, hands folded across her snack-filled belly, and proceeded, "Dear God, thank you for Daddy. I love Daddy. Amen." Her innocence and simplicity perfectly depicts how we really should feel in life - feeling appreciative for the most important things in life. I wanted to sit down and pray with Ella for God to soften the hearts of the people making the decision to keep Aaron, helping them to see the potential and purity in his teaching. And although praying such a prayer is good and all, Ella reminded me that Aaron simply being is something I should thank God for.
A 3-year old doesn't have the stress and worries that an adult has. More often than not, all of the stress and worry in my life fogs the happiness that I should feel, the raw happiness derived from simply being thankful for Aaron and the love he fills my soul with. Thank you, Ella, for reminding me what life needs to be all about. Really, what would it matter had Aaron been accepted to teach next year if he was severely injured in a car wreck on the drive home? The last thing in my mind would be, "Oh, at least he has a job come August."
Regardless of jobs, income, cars, house, clothes on our backs...thank you, God, for my family. What matters more to me than Aaron and Ella? Not even a future baby can take away from the importance and perfectness of the family I have at this given moment. Thank you, God, for my husband and daughter. Amen.
But then the magical words were spoken on April 28th, "We'd like you to come back next year!" I know Aaron wanted to jump up and yell, "YES, YES, YES, I'll accept!" but he professionally displayed his gratitude. Thank you, God, once again, for knowing our needs and filling our needs.
Aaron's evaluation began at 2:00 in the afternoon. At that time, I asked Ella if she wanted to pray for Daddy. She said, "Okay!" really excitedly. She sat down across from me, hands folded across her snack-filled belly, and proceeded, "Dear God, thank you for Daddy. I love Daddy. Amen." Her innocence and simplicity perfectly depicts how we really should feel in life - feeling appreciative for the most important things in life. I wanted to sit down and pray with Ella for God to soften the hearts of the people making the decision to keep Aaron, helping them to see the potential and purity in his teaching. And although praying such a prayer is good and all, Ella reminded me that Aaron simply being is something I should thank God for.
A 3-year old doesn't have the stress and worries that an adult has. More often than not, all of the stress and worry in my life fogs the happiness that I should feel, the raw happiness derived from simply being thankful for Aaron and the love he fills my soul with. Thank you, Ella, for reminding me what life needs to be all about. Really, what would it matter had Aaron been accepted to teach next year if he was severely injured in a car wreck on the drive home? The last thing in my mind would be, "Oh, at least he has a job come August."
Regardless of jobs, income, cars, house, clothes on our backs...thank you, God, for my family. What matters more to me than Aaron and Ella? Not even a future baby can take away from the importance and perfectness of the family I have at this given moment. Thank you, God, for my husband and daughter. Amen.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
It Is What It Is
The two weeks following ovulation are progressively getting longer and longer. I dwell on the symptoms I feel...gaining all the hope in the world and then losing it all within seconds. I interpret the things I feel, and my moods fluctuate like the ocean's tide. Cramps, to me, always mean an impending period. All cramps that I've felt during the two-week wait have inevitably led to my period, so why should I think otherwise? I've done research upon research and have probably read every post on every fertility / trying to conceive / pregnancy related website known to woman-kind. Goodness, there's a lot to read, and rather than preoccupying my time with something that can take my mind OFF of what I'm feeling, I preoccupy my mind with the mindless babble of women, like me, trying to make sense of every symptom their bodies are experiencing. I read medical journals, as well, deliberating on the causes of secondary infertility, infertility treatment statistics, the list goes on and on. What I read has not once left me fulfilled or happy, so why do I go back to it? I guess I hope to come across one website, one post, one article that helps boost my confidence that this is my month.
Not even Aaron can relate to me. He supports me, but when I'm emotional, borderline psychotic, he tells me, "I can't bring you up and I'm not going to let you bring me down." Well, honey...reality check! I know you can't stand being around me like this, but do you think I can stand being around me, too? That's a big NO! I can't stand being irrational, unapproachable, unpredictable and unacceptable...but I am. I'm sorry. I blame the drug, and I think a majority of it is Clomid, but I think a significant part of it is me losing hope. I'm so done with feeling this way. So done!
God, hear my prayers.
I came across this beautiful passage that lifted my spirits almost immediately. It says,
"What do I think God meant when he gave me infertility?
I think he meant for my husband and I to grow closer, become stronger, love deeper. I think God meant for us to find the fortitude within ourselves to get up every time infertility knocks us down. I think God meant for our medical community to discover medicines, invent medical equipment, create procedures and protocols. I think God meant for us to find a cure for infertility.
No, God never meant for me not to have children. That's not my destiny; that's just a fork in the road I'm on. I've been placed on the road less traveled, and, like it or not, I'm a better person for it. Clearly, God meant for me to develop more compassion, deeper courage, and greater inner strength on this journey to resolution, and I haven't let Him down.
Frankly, if the truth be known, I think God has singled me out for a special treatment. I think God meant for me to build a thirst for a child so strong and so deep that when that baby is finally placed in my arms, it will be the longest, coolest, most refreshing drink I've ever known."
There is so much truth to those words. Both the trials and tribulations in one's life are carefully planned by our Creator. It's easy to question God when things aren't going so well, but maybe this trial is special. Maybe he really has singled me out for special treatment. And I know...I KNOW...that with my infertility has come an incredible excitement for having another child, an excitement that would've not grown to this level or intensity had I gotten pregnant right away. The first glimpse of him or her will be so magical and so perfect that at that very moment, all of these difficult times will have washed away and be forgotten. This trial placed before me is molding me, shaping me into the woman God has always intended me to be. I feel in my heart of hearts that I AM becoming a better wife, a better mom and a better woman from my infertility. The daily emotions I go through are but a grain of sand in the bigger picture of my life.
The Bible passage, "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb" (Psalm 139:13), speaks to me. It reminds me that not only are Ella and my future children carefully created in His image, but I am also. What I am going through has been a part of God's plan for my life since I was first created in my mother's womb. I have to remain faithful that in due time, God will be delicately putting together another miracle in my womb, a true celebration those 9 months will be!
I'm 5 days past my IUI and I have 9 more to go. I am going to refrain from doing any more research, trying to decipher what my body is telling me because...it is what it is. I'm either pregnant or I'm not, and me dwelling on it won't change that.
Not even Aaron can relate to me. He supports me, but when I'm emotional, borderline psychotic, he tells me, "I can't bring you up and I'm not going to let you bring me down." Well, honey...reality check! I know you can't stand being around me like this, but do you think I can stand being around me, too? That's a big NO! I can't stand being irrational, unapproachable, unpredictable and unacceptable...but I am. I'm sorry. I blame the drug, and I think a majority of it is Clomid, but I think a significant part of it is me losing hope. I'm so done with feeling this way. So done!
God, hear my prayers.
I came across this beautiful passage that lifted my spirits almost immediately. It says,
"What do I think God meant when he gave me infertility?
I think he meant for my husband and I to grow closer, become stronger, love deeper. I think God meant for us to find the fortitude within ourselves to get up every time infertility knocks us down. I think God meant for our medical community to discover medicines, invent medical equipment, create procedures and protocols. I think God meant for us to find a cure for infertility.
No, God never meant for me not to have children. That's not my destiny; that's just a fork in the road I'm on. I've been placed on the road less traveled, and, like it or not, I'm a better person for it. Clearly, God meant for me to develop more compassion, deeper courage, and greater inner strength on this journey to resolution, and I haven't let Him down.
Frankly, if the truth be known, I think God has singled me out for a special treatment. I think God meant for me to build a thirst for a child so strong and so deep that when that baby is finally placed in my arms, it will be the longest, coolest, most refreshing drink I've ever known."
There is so much truth to those words. Both the trials and tribulations in one's life are carefully planned by our Creator. It's easy to question God when things aren't going so well, but maybe this trial is special. Maybe he really has singled me out for special treatment. And I know...I KNOW...that with my infertility has come an incredible excitement for having another child, an excitement that would've not grown to this level or intensity had I gotten pregnant right away. The first glimpse of him or her will be so magical and so perfect that at that very moment, all of these difficult times will have washed away and be forgotten. This trial placed before me is molding me, shaping me into the woman God has always intended me to be. I feel in my heart of hearts that I AM becoming a better wife, a better mom and a better woman from my infertility. The daily emotions I go through are but a grain of sand in the bigger picture of my life.
The Bible passage, "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb" (Psalm 139:13), speaks to me. It reminds me that not only are Ella and my future children carefully created in His image, but I am also. What I am going through has been a part of God's plan for my life since I was first created in my mother's womb. I have to remain faithful that in due time, God will be delicately putting together another miracle in my womb, a true celebration those 9 months will be!
I'm 5 days past my IUI and I have 9 more to go. I am going to refrain from doing any more research, trying to decipher what my body is telling me because...it is what it is. I'm either pregnant or I'm not, and me dwelling on it won't change that.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Signs
Yesterday was the big day...I had my first IUI. Going into it, I was very nervous. In fact, my blood pressure was 135/90!!! My blood pressure always reads within the normal measurements, so those crazy high numbers were a true reflection of how I was feeling in the inside. My heart was beating fast, my hands were clamming, my anxiety was through the roof. But, after seeing my high blood pressure, I immediately started focusing on my breathing, praying, taking things slowly, leaning on Aaron for support. I needed to relax my body.
Yes, you hear right! Aaron was able to be there for the appointment! Which is one of many "signs" for why this IUI was meant to be. I'm a true believer that God places signs in one's path to show that the path they have chosen is, in fact, the right path...the chosen path. After not knowing for the longest time about if the IUI was something I'd want to do, this month was different. I truly felt at peace with the decision to go through with it. There was not one ounce of me questioning my decision. Months prior I'd be 50/50, or even 80/20. 100% of me was never ready...until now.
After making the decision to have the IUI, things seemed to fall into place like pieces of a puzzle. Aaron doesn't have any more personal leave days or sick days left for work, so I figured he would not be able to go with me. That idea devastated me, but I was realistic about it and figured there was no way around it. Turns out, all schools and businesses in Los Banos were to be closed down on April 30th, for the town's annual May Day parade. Aaron didn't have to go to work on Friday! But, that didn't mean much if I didn't ovulate on that day, so we just had to wait and see if it played out as we hoped.
Turns out it did! In fact, I ovulated a day EARLY. I was supposed to ovulate today! And, because my doctor's office is closed on weekends, I would've most likely had to wait another month to have the IUI. So, not only did I ovulate on the one day Aaron had off from work, but it wasn't even the day I was supposed to ovulate. On top of that, the only appointment time available was a morning appointment. If it had been an afternoon time, Aaron would've had to stay home with Ella, since she wouldn't be at school.
In addition, with Aaron having the day off, it meant he was able to go to my doctor's office to "provide his sample." If he had to work, I would've had to get a sterile cup for him to you-know before he left for work around 6:00 in the morning. My doctor's office doesn't open until 9:00, and the more time that is passed from when the sperm is provided to when the sperm is washed, the worse. Sperm washing is when the good sperm is separated from the bad sperm, so that only the good sperm would be injected inside of me. Anyway, even though Aaron felt entirely uncomfortable going into an office knowing full well that all the women working there knew what he was doing behind the closed door, he did it for me...for us...for our future family!
And, to top it off, my dear friend told me that April 24th to May 1st, 2010 is National Infertility Week. Wow!!! She found out yesterday, the same day I went in for my IUI, so she was eager to tell me. Another sign? I think so!
You may think these "signs" are pointless or stupid, but when going through infertility, the only thing to keep me going is HOPE. Seeing how things played out ideally for the IUI gives me hope that God is watching over us during this trying time, showing us the way, His way, through simple signs that, to anybody, may seem like mere coincidence, if that, but to me, I feel like God is pushing me in the right direction on this journey. How else could I have been so confused for so long and then finally, this month, I felt peace. God gave me peace - the peace that I needed to feel to know that the IUI was my next step.
After the IUI, the doctor instructed I lay there for a bit, so I laid there, not loosening my grip on Aaron's hand. Poor guy...I really think I hurt him during the procedure. At one point, he made me shift my grip. My nails were digging into him. No blood, though! Haha. The procedure was somewhat painful, but it was brief. I just focused on my breathing and on God - I prayed the whole time. I had tears rolling down my face and Aaron said my neck up turned tomato red. He's like, "You could be having your leg cut off, and you wouldn't make a peep." I have a high pain threshold, but I think for me, my tears were caused from my emotions, not the pain I was experiencing. While laying there after the procedure, that is when the tears really started pouring out. The concept of us creating a miracle at that very moment hit me hard and the tears started falling.
Once I came home, I was mildly cramping...nothing too concerning. It wasn't anything too uncomfortable, but after a couple hours, I was in A LOT of pain. Hunched over and unable to move in abrupt motions, I allowed Aaron to baby me. He made sure I kept up on my Tylenol and made sure my heat pad was always warm. He took care of Ella and dinner, leaving me to just relax and allow my body to recover. He's wonderful! This morning I woke up in pain, but by mid-day, I felt much better. Thank goodness!
Now onto the wait...the infamous two-week wait. We're hoping and praying this does the trick. Please God, let this do the trick! My strength is weakening...
Yes, you hear right! Aaron was able to be there for the appointment! Which is one of many "signs" for why this IUI was meant to be. I'm a true believer that God places signs in one's path to show that the path they have chosen is, in fact, the right path...the chosen path. After not knowing for the longest time about if the IUI was something I'd want to do, this month was different. I truly felt at peace with the decision to go through with it. There was not one ounce of me questioning my decision. Months prior I'd be 50/50, or even 80/20. 100% of me was never ready...until now.
After making the decision to have the IUI, things seemed to fall into place like pieces of a puzzle. Aaron doesn't have any more personal leave days or sick days left for work, so I figured he would not be able to go with me. That idea devastated me, but I was realistic about it and figured there was no way around it. Turns out, all schools and businesses in Los Banos were to be closed down on April 30th, for the town's annual May Day parade. Aaron didn't have to go to work on Friday! But, that didn't mean much if I didn't ovulate on that day, so we just had to wait and see if it played out as we hoped.
Turns out it did! In fact, I ovulated a day EARLY. I was supposed to ovulate today! And, because my doctor's office is closed on weekends, I would've most likely had to wait another month to have the IUI. So, not only did I ovulate on the one day Aaron had off from work, but it wasn't even the day I was supposed to ovulate. On top of that, the only appointment time available was a morning appointment. If it had been an afternoon time, Aaron would've had to stay home with Ella, since she wouldn't be at school.
In addition, with Aaron having the day off, it meant he was able to go to my doctor's office to "provide his sample." If he had to work, I would've had to get a sterile cup for him to you-know before he left for work around 6:00 in the morning. My doctor's office doesn't open until 9:00, and the more time that is passed from when the sperm is provided to when the sperm is washed, the worse. Sperm washing is when the good sperm is separated from the bad sperm, so that only the good sperm would be injected inside of me. Anyway, even though Aaron felt entirely uncomfortable going into an office knowing full well that all the women working there knew what he was doing behind the closed door, he did it for me...for us...for our future family!
And, to top it off, my dear friend told me that April 24th to May 1st, 2010 is National Infertility Week. Wow!!! She found out yesterday, the same day I went in for my IUI, so she was eager to tell me. Another sign? I think so!
You may think these "signs" are pointless or stupid, but when going through infertility, the only thing to keep me going is HOPE. Seeing how things played out ideally for the IUI gives me hope that God is watching over us during this trying time, showing us the way, His way, through simple signs that, to anybody, may seem like mere coincidence, if that, but to me, I feel like God is pushing me in the right direction on this journey. How else could I have been so confused for so long and then finally, this month, I felt peace. God gave me peace - the peace that I needed to feel to know that the IUI was my next step.
After the IUI, the doctor instructed I lay there for a bit, so I laid there, not loosening my grip on Aaron's hand. Poor guy...I really think I hurt him during the procedure. At one point, he made me shift my grip. My nails were digging into him. No blood, though! Haha. The procedure was somewhat painful, but it was brief. I just focused on my breathing and on God - I prayed the whole time. I had tears rolling down my face and Aaron said my neck up turned tomato red. He's like, "You could be having your leg cut off, and you wouldn't make a peep." I have a high pain threshold, but I think for me, my tears were caused from my emotions, not the pain I was experiencing. While laying there after the procedure, that is when the tears really started pouring out. The concept of us creating a miracle at that very moment hit me hard and the tears started falling.
Once I came home, I was mildly cramping...nothing too concerning. It wasn't anything too uncomfortable, but after a couple hours, I was in A LOT of pain. Hunched over and unable to move in abrupt motions, I allowed Aaron to baby me. He made sure I kept up on my Tylenol and made sure my heat pad was always warm. He took care of Ella and dinner, leaving me to just relax and allow my body to recover. He's wonderful! This morning I woke up in pain, but by mid-day, I felt much better. Thank goodness!
Now onto the wait...the infamous two-week wait. We're hoping and praying this does the trick. Please God, let this do the trick! My strength is weakening...
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