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.

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. 

On

It's been since September of last year, when we last set foot on our RE's office. It was a bittersweet visit because we knew we weren't going back anytime soon. As I said goodbye to the receptionist, tears welled up in my eyes, but they couldn't come out. I didn't let them. Enough tears had been shed in that place. We knew we needed a break, a time away from all the madness. But a part of me didn't want to let go. I knew that there was a slim to non existent chance of me becoming pregnant the "natural way". Stepping away from treatments meant a very strong chance of no pregnancy. Of course, there are some people who believe in miracles. There's always that urban legend meant to give people like us hope, about the couple who stopped fertility treatments and suddenly conceived. I consider myself way to practical to fall into that. Cynicism would be a better word to describe it. I knew what our problems were and conceiving the "natural way" seemed like complete bullshit at this point. Urban legends my ass.

Anyway, we stepped away physically from the process. And when I say physically it's because emotionally it's all I could think of. I know that for A it was easier to take a break. I was the one left with the physical emptiness of the miscarriage. I wanted that void to be filled fast. But there are no easy ways out when dealing with all of this. There are no sure remedies to mend a heart that has been broken into so many pieces. Time seemed like the only good idea.

Unfortunately there was no fool proof method to reset my mind in order to accept that we were on a break. True, we kind of lost our souls in the midst of that last cycle, but I felt even more lost when we stopped the treatments. The treatments had become my life. Giving myself the shots were a daily ritual... testing on cheap pregnancy tests had become my own kind of drug. Stopping felt so sudden. So forceful. The money was scarce... our hopes were down- what else was left to do?

We knew that we deserved to try at least to enjoy the holidays without the worries that another month of treatments would surely bring. The holidays came and went and although being able to drink was a nice change of pace, one which I took full advantage of, it still felt like moving trough quick sand. The much talked about, miraculous conception didn't make it's appearance. The relief of the stress was only an illusion. The absence of pain was only fleeting.

Time passed and the need to try again was strong. I kept it a secret from A since I didn't want to spoil the peace he had apparently found. He wasn't completely oblivious... of course he knew, because every time we would pass a pregnant woman he gave me that look, which in turn broke my heart a little bit more. In the meantime I tucked away my mommy dreams and focused on other things instead. Nothing filled the void, though. Time passed ever so slowly... painfully slow... but it passed nonetheless.

And that brings us to this point. We are on the verge of starting it all over again and if I'm being truthful, it scares the shit out of me. It keeps me up at night. The anticipation... the doubts... the unknown. Even though the idea of making that phone call to the RE's office to set up a new appointment was in part responsible for keeping me sane and hopeful all of this time, it's intimidating.  Starting up again... beginning from scratch. The shots... the trips (since the office is almost three hours from our town)... the blood tests... the possible surgery, everything seems more daunting this time. Because there's no blissful ignorance like there was in the beginning. That stage is over. I'm going into this already jaded. Scarred. But there are no options. This is it. If we really want this (and we do!) there's no other way. Calls will be made, appointments will be set, procedures will be scheduled and there will be not a single space for doubt. 

So the time is approaching. The time to close our eyes, cross our fingers and jump in yet again... hopefully we will land on our feet this time.