Wednesday, September 29, 2010


I hardly know where to begin, so I will just start at the very beginning. Then move on to the middle, and eventually get to "now," which is supposed to be the end but apparently is not.

(Please read at your own risk, especially if you are a male. This won't be "light" reading, I guarantee).


The whole reason I started this blog seven years ago was to have a place to journal about my struggles with infertility. This blog exists because I was dealing with something painful, personal, and emotional. And it had to do specifically with me dealing with a particular part of my body failing me. Any way you break it down, that is the whole reason this blog exists in the first place. Truth be told, if I didn't have this blog while I was going through infertility treatments, IVF, surgeries, etc., I am honestly not sure I would have survived it - at least, not mentally. This little corner of the internet saved me.


After four painful years, multiple invasive procedures and a zillion tears, we miraculously found ourselves pregnant with beautiful Amanda. At which point my blog converted, ever so slowly, from an 'infertility' blog to a 'pregnancy' and subsequent 'parenting' blog.

I tried to tread lightly, exhilarated that we had finally reached the goal of having a child, but also keenly aware that most of the people who read my blog at the time were also women struggling with infertility; many of them had not had their own miracles yet. I didn't want to be callous, rubbing my happiness in other people's faces. Infertility is hard; it is painful; it is cruel. For those of us who have gone through it and come out the other side with a baby, we are charged with the delicate task of never forgetting what it was like on that other side. We must always be sensitive to the feelings of our peers. One never knows if the person you are standing in line behind at the checkout counter is going through the same painful journey you yourself have been through. I've learned to never ask a married couple "when" they plan on having kids, because you just don't know if you are rubbing salt in an incredibly raw, deep wound. You really just never know.

The "middle" also was where I was forced to come to terms with the possibility that I had used up all of the miracles I had coming to me. Several subsequent IVF procedures, all with abysmal results, forced us to realize that another child was just not in our future. I had a much more difficult time coping with this reality than my husband did. He was okay with it; I was NOT, but had no choice other than to accept it.


......and this is where the problem is for me today. There needs to be an end, and no matter what I do, I cannot seem to get there. And it is slowly killing me and my spirit, little by little, with every passing day. I need this chapter of my life to be OVER and DONE with. I need the drama of my infertility and all the issues associated with it to be firmly and distantly in my past. But, like some sort of cruel joke, infertility seems to be the gift that keeps on giving. Or taking. So instead of this story having and end, it only has a "now."


Now is where I spend many nights crying myself to sleep. Now is where I get furiously angry and shake my fists at the ceiling, presumably at God. Now is where I find my life so ironic, but I am not laughing at all.

Now is where I finally, after all of these years, have made the painful, difficult decision to do something permanent and radical. The "relationship" I have been referencing for the past few weeks is with my body. Specifically, with my uterus. My body has failed me time and time again, and it has only once done anything "right" by me. It gave me my child, but not without putting up the biggest fight it could. Since then, it has put me through physical hell. The last couple of months in particular have been bad. I have had problem after problem, issue after issue, pain after pain. I finally asked the question, "Why am I keeping this horrible part of my anatomy? Do I even NEED it anymore?"

...and I had no answer.

I made up my mind that I need to get my uterus removed, and started talking to my doctors about my options for getting a hysterectomy.

Goodness, I can't even write this without the tears starting to stream down my face. I cannot express just how angry it makes me that I couldn't get pregnant for YEARS, and now, after all of that, I am faced with having to get my useless uterus removed. It makes no fucking sense to me.

My need to do this is personal, physical, and emotional. My doctors did not tell me that this is a MEDICAL need in my specific case, but I have had several appointments and frank discussions lately with both of my doctors. My OB/GYN told me that if SHE were in my position, she would be considering the exact same course of action, though it is somewhat radical for a woman of my age.

So we ran a bunch of tests on me to "rule out" anything else that may be causing my recent ailments. What my doctor said to me was basically if my tests come back negative and they cannot find some other explanation for my current issues, I would basically have the green light to go ahead and schedule the surgery.

As painful a decision as this has been for me to make, now that I have made it I sort of need to get it done and behind me. All the tests they ran came back negative - which is what we wanted to see. The only thing I needed now was to have an ultrasound also come back negative. The ultrasound was today - the answer I needed to get so that I could schedule the hysterectomy.


As I should have expected, I didn't get the results I was expecting. The results did NOT come back negative and were NOT "all clear."

It turns out I have a 6cm cyst on my right ovary.

The ultrasound tech said "you MUST be experiencing quite a bit of pain." Why yes, in fact, I am in pain ALL THE TIME, I thought. I have been finding myself doubled over in sharp pain constantly for the past couple of months. I foolishly blew it off, and often just assumed it had to do with my running and my marathon training. What I had dismissed as a cramp or a stitch in my abdomen has apparently been this fucking cyst. When I went to urgent care a little over a month ago and was diagnosed with a "probable" stomach ulcer - WRONG! It was the cyst.

Now, please don't get me wrong, this is not the end of the world and I am not freaking out about the cyst per se.

What I am pissed about is that my ordeals with my fertility WILL NOT END! I just need it to be over, and instead I keep facing one thing after another after another. Have I not been through enough? Honestly?

I am at the point that I am SO DONE with all of this that I am willing to go through major surgery to actually REMOVE AN ORGAN FROM MY BODY just to make the physical and emotional pain stop - despite the major risks associated with doing so. And even THIS cannot go smoothly.

Why? I am sorry to complain so much but seriously, WHY? Someone tell me why I can't be done with this? My God, I have paid my dues. In spades. I need the hurt and the pain and the tears that my fucking body have given me to JUST STOP.

That is what is going on with me. I am so sad. I am so angry. I am so tired, and so frustrated.

I don't yet know what the next step is, but I obviously cannot schedule a hysterectomy until we figure out what is up with this cyst, and how to treat it. I will be speaking with the doctor early next week.

Until then, I wait. I seethe. I regroup, try to get my head back squarely on my shoulders, and prepare to go another ten rounds: me versus my womanhood. Someone is going to win this epic battle, I just wish I knew which one of us it will be.