Mental health and Infertility

I've talked a little bit about my experiences with anxiety here. I think I can blame it on my occasional type A personality and my everlasting curiosity to always be in the know. I want to know what's going to happen, I want to know about the future, I want to hold the answers to all the questions in my life. Unfortunately we all know how well that turns out. It is impossible to be on top of everything. With time (and some help from meds) I was able to let go little by little of my anxiety and everything seemed OK again. I was living my life as carefree as I could.

Enter infertility (imagine ominous music, horror movie style). With every passing month of me not being pregnant, red flags started to pop up everywhere. I tried to put it in the back of my mind but it was obvious that there were deeper problems that we had to address. We were going to have to put heart and soul (and our savings) into our baby making dreams. At first it was exciting, we were doing something, we were being proactive. When months kept passing by, one after another, without the much awaited results, my old friend anxiety was waiting in the shadows to come back. It started creeping slowly until it made a full blown appearance after my first miscarriage. Since then I've been struggling with it on and off. Sometimes I am completely fine. I can go weeks and even months without a hint of anxiety, but then... BOOM there it is. It is a never ending thing. I've come to accept it and deal with it, because what else can I do. I don't think I will ever get rid completely of it.

I've have often asked myself if it is possible to go trough this infertility/loss journey without loosing your mind, even just a little bit.

Since infertility is a topic that is hush hush in our society and even taboo in some cultures or circles, imagine adding to that a mental health component. They are both personal and intimate topics, so talking about it openly is difficult... for some even impossible. I am guilty of keeping it silent. I haven't shared my struggles with many people in real life, only close family and a couple of friends know. Even then, they don't know the full extent of my emotional struggles. I don't expect them to understand completely either. This is one of those things that, unless you've been there you can't really comprehend. How it toys with your mind, the emotional and physical impact that it has. The insecurity and loss of control that comes with it, amongst many other things.

By opening up I've been offered support and words of wisdom, but I've also received rude comments or simple minded solutions to my problems like the well known "relax" or the "if you adopt you will be able to get pregnant, it's just stress". I know it comes with the territory, you gotta have patience and be able to take deep breaths to keep the urge to smack people over their heads under control. Insensitive comments and the inability to connect with other women left me unsure of myself. I was scared of sharing too much and them thinking that I was going crazy... I was ashamed. 

It wasn't until I started reading other infertility blogs and learning about other peoples stories that I felt right at home. The more I read the more I felt like I wasn't alone. There were thousands of women going through the exact same thing at the exact same time as me and that was comforting to know.  That has helped a lot to keep my anxiety in check, to think positive and be more open with my feelings. I'm very grateful for it.

Knowing that there is so much support out there in this community has left me with a yearning in my heart. I want to be able to support others in their journeys as well. Where I live there are no support groups for infertility or miscarriages. The only option is going to a Psychologist or a Psychiatrist, which are great and necessary resources many times. They have helped me on countless occasions. Although having professional help is amazing, there is nothing compared to having someone who is walking through the same road as you, who can relate to the loss of control, to the ups and downs and everything in between. Whom have felt deep inside their souls the same type of heartbreak or joy. How many women are silenced by their fears or their shame? Where are all those women going for support? Are they even getting support? Are we passing each other by on the streets wrapped up in our own struggles? 

Since online support has been a big help for me, I've been playing with the idea of starting a local infertility support group. I don't know if people are even going to come, but I have to at least try. I don't have all the answers to all the questions, I don't have a magic solution, I only have my experiences and my desire to connect and be able to help each other... so I hope that is enough to guide me along this path.

*If someone has had experience with infertility support groups (good or bad) and want to share it, you are more than welcomed to do so in the comments.

Aha!

Today I had my post op appointment. I was nervous but so ready to learn what they had found. We chose to have this procedure done with a OB/GYN because it is covered by my insurance. If we were to have the laparoscopy/ hysteroscopy done with our RE it would have cost us about $5,000. Amazing how an infertility diagnosis changes things! 

So, the verdict is in. It turns out that I do have endometriosis (stage II). Big shocker! (not). It was hinted as a possible diagnosis for so long that to have it confirmed, seemed like a big relief. He ended up removing a lot of endo and adhesions in the pelvic region. He told us that there was endo that he couldn't remove because of the location, but the major areas affecting the reproductive organs were taken care of. He also recommended a 4-6 month treatment of Lupron or Danazol (which I've never heard of before). Apparently they both have the same purpose but Danazol has less side effects when compared to Lupron. The only advantage is that you take Lupron once and month as an injection and with Danazol you have to take three daily pills. I am pretty sure that with my attention span I will forget a pill or two. So I am undecided on what treatment to choose. If any of you has any feedback regarding these treatments it will be greatly appreciated.

The only thing that made it rain on my parade was the expected waiting time between treatments and the IVF. I know that six months go by super fast, but I wish I wouldn't have to drag this any longer. I am going to make an appointment ASAP with our RE to get his input in all of this. I really trust him, and ultimately his professional opinion is what matters.

I am proud of myself because I took the news better that I would have thought. I am not going to lie... I cried a little bit. I cried outside the office and I cried in the elevator full of people and I also cried in the parking lot. I got mad because the endometriosis wasn't discovered sooner. I got mad because I started thinking that the miscarriages could have been prevented. That all the pain and sadness of the last year could have been avoided. But in the end there is no use to wallow on the "could have been". I should know since I am an expert wallower.

The only option now is to focus on the future. Yes, the past year has been less than stellar, but we owe it to ourselves to be happy. We owe it to ourselves to take a deep breath, step back and look at how far we've come. Knowing that I have endometriosis has given me confidence to know that, although I may have some problems in the reproductive area, not everything is lost. It has empowered me to keep on fighting and searching for answers. We still have hope and faith, we still have a chance, no matter how slim. No matter how hard we have to try, the wheels are set in motion and there is nothing stopping us.

Sunny Sundays

source

It truly is...

IVF

Those three little letters... so innocent on their own, right? When put together they are able to carry so many emotions. There is so much uncertainty when you deal with infertility. I only want to see the hope in those three little letters. Hope and strength... and ultimately, happiness. I really, really hope that it will all work out in the end. I hope that there is a happily ever after for us (even if I don't believe in fairy tales).

But I worry a lot also (shocker, I know... me worry and be all up inside my head? never!) I try to put all of the worries away with no such luck. The surgery last week broke down the wall I had so carefully built in the past few months. All the anxiety and doubts of cycling came crashing down on me about three days ago. I was doing well, I really was. But then something snapped inside me and all emotional hell broke loose. The lack of control, the unknown, it's enough to drive me crazy. It all started because I began to worry about the post op report. What did they find? Is it bad? Was there a lot of endo there? and so on. These questions will be answered next week but in the meantime it's worry central in here. Worrying has a domino effect for me. I start worrying about one little thing and a couple of hours latter I am in a full blown anxiety attack.

My biggest worry is the outcome of the IVF. I don't think I can face another disappointment. Of course I'm jumping way ahead here, but these are valid worries that I believe most people facing IVF have. There is no stress free way to navigate through this (if someone has found a way please tell me!). And then there's the money worries as well. There are loans and savings put into this. My parents are also helping us with a big portion of the money as well. That has been hard, letting them help us. They don't have any grandchildren and I know they would give anything to have one. Many times my dad has tried to reassure us. He keeps telling us that they are doing this out of love. I am so grateful but at the same time I feel guilty that it has come to this.

In the meantime I hope that I can keep my anxiety in check and not drive A crazy in the process. I'll try to focus on all the good things that are happening around us on hold on to dear life for the journey ahead.

Update

I have been missing from this blog for a little while. Things have been a little crazy so I've taken some time to regroup. Good thing is I had the laparoscopy/ hysteroscopy this last Friday. It was a completely new experience since I've never been under general anesthesia. I was super scared about that whole bit, but it wasn't as scary as I thought. One moment I was talking with a nurse and the next I was completely out of it. I woke up all groggy and disoriented. I was also experiencing a fair amount of pain so I was given some pain meds immediately. Apparently the anesthesia made me nauseous and I couldn't keep anything solid down that day. I was also cramping and bleeding a little bit afterwards. Right now I am only spotting and the pain is almost gone. I only have some discomfort when I make sudden moves or bend down to pick up something. 

The doctor wasn't available immediately post op because he had another procedure scheduled, so I am still awaiting on the report. I have an appointment next Thursday so that will give us a clearer picture of what they found, if anything. Fingers crossed everything is OK.

I have been resting and taking it easy. A has been super helpful with everything. I think he was even more scared than I was of the whole thing. My parents have also helped a lot these days. I feel so lucky and humbled to have such a great support system through all of this.

So, that's one more thing checked out of the list. Next!....

The last frontier

Today I went to an appointment with a new OB/GYN. He was recommended by one of the nurses at my RE. Good news is that my surgery is officially scheduled for next week. I'm scared but so ready for it!

Yeah, so... the OB's waiting room. Another world unto itself. A world so far away and strange. It's like a torture chamber for an infertile woman. So different from the RE's office waiting room. Thankfully A was there to keep me company and share annoyed glances with me. Everyone there seems to be happy. They talk to each other and compare pregnancy stories. Can you imagine something like that happening at the infertility clinic? People there barely look at one another. Everyone is enclosed in their own worries and struggles. But not at the OB, no sir. In there they gasp in amazement at the photos and sonograms some of the women bring. The husbands joke with each other about the unusual cravings they've had to put up with. Can you visualize husbands comparing stories at the RE? "Oh yes, the movie selection in there is great, it really puts me in the mood".  That would be the day. At the OB everything is colored by a cheery and blissful tone. There is no palpable fear or sadness... no avoidance or shame. Two worlds so different from one another.

Many times I've sat in one of these waiting rooms as an infertile but this time was specially difficult. I felt the heat burning under my skin. I was amazed that I didn't self- combust right there. Being in such close quarters with so many pregnant women was a bit too much. I couldn't escape. I had nowhere else to go so I buckled up and put on my trustworthy "happy face". I smiled and tried to act as normal as possible. But these kind of smiles never reach my eyes.

There I sat staring blankly at my phone trying to do anything and everything to keep occupied. I repeated in my head like a mantra "do not look at the enormous pregnant bellies".... "do not look". It didn't work. I looked at them... and I envied them. Yeah I know, envy its not good for the soul... at all. But it is an emotion provoked by the most primal desires. In these situations I embrace envy and sadness and all the conflicting emotions I may feel. There is no point in fooling myself or denying the truths I've come to know so well.  It takes way too much energy to lie to yourself. I long for my own pregnant belly. More importantly I long for my own healthy baby. I long for the day in which all of this becomes a distant a memory and not a painful reality. Until that day comes I guess I'll be keeping busy as a jaded infertile trying to keep my head above water. Trying to decipher riddles and questions and doubts. Still hoping... always dreaming.