It's Always Something...

So today, a week and some change after every woman's favorite appointment of the year, I have been officially diagnosed with what is being coined "Evil Twin Syndrome".

Before I explain that, let's revisit what over a hundred thousand dollars (including insured coverage, of course) worth of fertility tests and failed fertility treatments have taught my doctors, BJ and myself. I have endometriosis.  My body does a pretty good job of keeping the adhesions at a minimum.  Unfortunately, my organs from the belly button down, including uterus, ovaries, intestines and bladder are inflamed.

What Dr. D theorizes:

In an effort to "fight" the endometriosis, my immune system works in over-drive, to try to keep adhesions at bay. This means it kicks the inflammatory response into high gear, but this is at a detriment to my ovaries and their ability to produce strong, viable eggs.  It is possible that my eggs get scrambled during their 72 day maturation cycle as my body dumps histamines and prostaglandins (same things that cause allergies and swelling after injuries) into my lower abdomen.   

It is quite possible that the damage to my ovaries is irreversible.  I will never know with certainty if better medical care in my teens and early 20's would have made a positive impact on my fertility, but it is a possibility.  I was told numerous times that my cramps were just part of the mystery of being a woman by medical professionals.  I am not sure why it took nearly 13 years for someone to suggest that I might have endo.  Abnormally painful periods are THE symptom.  I, as a young teen, apparently was not able to convey the fact that I was in real pain.  But here are the "typical" symptoms and what my response was back then:

1. Painful mestruation- YES!  I knew and used the term dysmenorrhea (painful periods) when I was 16...HELLO what 16 y/o says that?

2.  Heavy/Irregular Periods- Heavy no, Irregular HIGHLY!  3 weeks 12 weeks...my period don't care.

3.  Pain when voiding- Yes...I still go on crash diets and drink as little as possible every time I'm on my period so I don't have to to go the bathroom.

4. Painful Intercourse- One has to have sex, and I wasn't when I was younger. However, it wasn't until after my surgery that I even knew sex was painful for me, because for a brief period of time afterwards, and for the first time in my life, it wasn't...*SIGH* 

5.  Infertility- Well, back in my day, when I had to walk up hill to school both ways in the snow, MTV didn't offer us reality shows, so most of us did nothing to test our fertility...

But here is a list of symptoms that I did have that no pamphlet I was ever given, or medical "professional" asked me about.

I.        Waking up in the middle of the night biting pillow to keep from screaming.

II.       Diarrhea and dry heaves/vomiting from pain and too many prostaglandins.  

III.      Contemplating as I am leaning over the toilet heaving about how hard I'd have to hit my head on it to knock myself out.

IV.     Heating pads feel better than nothing, but mostly seem to have a placebo affect...which hell, you'll take it.

V.       Regularly blistering myself with heating pads, and it's still not hot enough.

VI.      The thought of lying still and trying to sleep is worse than pouring alcohol over fresh road rash. Seriously I would trade...

VII.     Sobbing into your pillow at the age of 16 about how you don't understand how you're expected to live like this month-to-month for another 20+ years.

VIII.    Being in high school and counting down the days until you can have a hysterectomy. 

IX.      Knowing for fact, that your period hurts way worse than ACL reconstruction...Just in case you're not sure...you tear your other ACL and scientifically conclude that you were correct.

X.       Setting an alarm for the middle of the night (every 4 hours) so you can take ibuprofen

XI.      Taking 6,000-7,200 mg of ibuprofen in 24 hours is really bad for you, but you don't give a shit if it gets you to a tolerable level where you can exist and perhaps even function in the world.

XII.      Pacing back and forth for 2+hours in the middle of the night while clutching heating pad to abdomen.

XIII.     Contemplating "falling on knife" because stabbing yourself in your uterus sounds like it might offer you relief.

Over time, you do get better at managing pain.  I can stay in bed with worse cramps longer than I could when I was 16...part of that is simply knowing that I've survived all my periods thus far, so I figure I'm probably and/or unfortunately (depending on my mental stamina that particular month) not going to die of my period.  I truly was scared of my period when I was younger, because the level of pain I experienced did not make sense to me or seem to compare to any of my peers. I was ashamed of myself.  I truly thought I was the wussiest little girl in the world.  My friends could take Pamprin and move on with their lives. I felt like my uterus was tying itself in a knot and taking everything else in it's sight with it.

It still blows my mind that some people don't like to use birth control that causes them to skip periods because they get uneasy about being pregnant.  While the intellectual part of me kind of gets that, every other part of me is astounded.  I truly hate my period. If I didn't think there was a miniscule, outside chance that I might be able to carry a baby one day, I'd have begged for a hysterectomy years ago.  I look forward to early, artificially-induced menopause as it is.  

However, as it turns out...the miracle of a hysterectomy may not be my savior after all.  I have officially started treatment for a bladder condition called interstitial cystitis (IC), or painful bladder syndrome.  The protective mucous layer on the inside of my bladder (similar to the one we have in our stomachs to keep our stomach acid from burning a hole through it) is either shotty or non-existent.  So my bladder hates urine because the pH is too high or too low and causes inflammation.  It hurts my bladder when there is urine in it. Ergo, I have an urge to go to the bathroom as soon as I have a minuscule amount of urine in it.  I pee ALL the time...have since I was a small child.  It's just always been part of the mystery that is MK, but apparently going to the bathroom 15-20+ times a day/night when you are not 9 months pregnant is a little abnormal. Who knew? Also, apparently my mom should have been able to fill out the "First time baby slept through the night," part of my baby book some time before my 30th birthday (it's still blank). Again, who knew?  When Dr. B brought this up a year and a half ago, I was like, 'what's your point?'  I have to go a lot, I get up and go...What's the big deal?

Dr. B theorizes it is a big deal because it could be contributing to the overall hostility that is my womb.  Ok, so now I'm a little more interested... IC could be egging on my endometriosis, which in turn eggs on the IC...and therefore creating the pent-ultimate hostile environment for my ovaries and frying my eggs. Hence why having both is sometimes referred to as Evil Twin Syndrome.  The symptoms of IC are almost identical to endo.  Chronic pain in pelvis, worsening during mestruation, pain with sex, yadda, yadda...

The cure? Of course, like endo, there isn't one.  They don't even really know what causes it.  There are some treatments...Elmiron, pill which helps build up the mucous layer, and anti-histamine because histamines and prostaglandins are the devil-incarnate (this is not medical fact, yet, but it may be my doctoral dissertation topic one day)...And of course, dietary changes.  Obviously alcohol and caffeine are out along with carbonated beverages...  My Keurig that I love will now be collecting dust :(. No citrus fruits, which are positively my favorite food group. :(  Soy (again...AHHHHH! This is soo hard!!! It's in EVERYTHING!) No yogurt, deli meats, pistachios, ketchup, spricy/brown mustard, vinegar, spicy foods or artificial sweeteners and preservatives, foods with lots of potassium...

(Getty Images)

Anyway...new goal in life is to give my pelvic organs a good 18 months of vacation so they can heal.  I truly would like for that to happen, and then not being in pain all the time would be icing on the cake.

Peace, Love and Better living through chemistry,

MK

I'm Not Crazy

So this past week I've been in increasing amounts of discomfort.  I feel like my body just hates me.  It obviously started with the miscarriage which caused extraordinary cramping...No wait...it didn't...It started before my egg retrieval with a tooth that began to ache that hurt all the way to my temple, but there wasn't really anything I could do about it.  Plus, I was on IV antibiotics and taking tyelenol which kinda worked. It did kinda get better, but THEN I had a miscarriage and was miserable on all fronts. This includes suffering from liver poisoning (Not really, but then again, maybe...) and puking whenever I thought about taking ibuprofen.

When that sort of settled my mouth kicked it into high gear, but I had antibiotics, tylenol, and ibuprofen so moving on...

Yeah so I woke up last Thursday, like, 'eww I slept wrong'.  Friday pretty much the same no worse. So knowing that I had to judge a gymnastics meet the next two days with a bad mouth and a wry neck I tried to be proactive, and I dug up the pain meds I didn't take after my egg retrieval.  I took one and got no relief.  It says you can take two at the same time, so I took another one.  Fortunately, I wasn't driving to Clarkesville, so I could lie down in the backseat and pretend I wasn't suffering.  Only I was getting more and more nauseous.  So I spent 10 minutes puking on the side of 40E while my carpool was like, 'Eww.'  So if you're wanting to count, I've been nauseous for a week, better for 4 days and now back to puking on the sides of highways.

So like a charm, my uterus decides to remind me that I have endometriosis that has been aggravated for the last 8 months so I'm also having cramps like a dehydrated football player.  Luckily I kept enough medicine down to only be aware of the pain, but not care for the rest of the car ride.  After googling on my phone, I decided that I probably wouldn't die if I took benadryl (Loratab makes me jittery...and sometimes so does benadryl), loratab, ibuprofen and amoxicillin and if I did, I wasn't completely convinced that it would have been a bad thing...so it was win-win.  Day time functioning was brought to you by crackers, ginger ale, tyelenol and ibuprofen cocktails.  Plus we finished way early so I got to add my narcotics at 8:00pm and try to sleep until Sunday morning.

I got home around 10:00pm Sunday evening and my neck and mouth were killing me.  I laid down on a neck roll, and it felt SO good.  I slept without moving which was great except I woke up not being able to move when I wanted to.  My neck is frozen.  I had to roll on my stomach and slide off my bed because I couldn't sit up.  I cried because I was at my wit's end, but I put my big girl britches on.  I made it to work without killing anyone due to my inability to turn my head.  Once at work, I took a boat load of pain meds and held a heating pad to my neck and head. I was also freezing cold, but so was  everyone else in the office so whatever.  Shivering only hurt my neck more.  Oh and my dentist's office was closed when I got the chance to call...so bah humbug.

To make my evening that much snazzier, I got an email from a local community college that offers dual-enrollment courses on our campus that they were cancelling them.  Due to changes they decided to make in October (nevermind that these kids were scheduled for the courses in June) I did not have enough qualifying students enrolled for the classes to make. This is after I spent 12 hours last week working with students helping them apply and complete the dual-enrollment grant  and changing their schedules to try to make the classes work out and had everything done a day ahead of schedule (all the while, clearly not aware of the new requirements that I was supposedly told over a phone call I don't remember having).

So now I was physically miserable, and now totally sucked at my job which was the one thing I had going for me.  So basically, I felt like everything I was touching was turning to shit.  I killed my baby, I screwed up 37 children's schedules, and I can't turn my head or sit up from a lying position.  So yeah, tell me how I don't suck at life?  I spent the evening crying to my mother who was staying with me while BJ went to Jackson, TN.  I took a cocktail of meds and got into bed.  I woke up, and it was like effing Ground Hogs' Day.  I can't move, I hurt like hell and feel like my head is going to fall off.

On my way to work, my dentist called and asked me to come in.  They determined that yes I was in pain and that I needed to be taking antibiotics and Loratab and to come back in the evening to determine if I needed dental surgery because they had done all they could do for this tooth with previous dental work.  (I have crappy English teeth that I got from my crappy English ancestors but my gums are super-healthy!)  So at least some things were being treated. At work, I was told that we could have one of the dual-enrollment classes because even in East Tennessee 17 children minus 2 who don't qualify = 15, the magic number to hold the class.  So that made me feel somewhat better about my job...well that and the pain medication.  However, at 4:00pm once again I was told that the class was cancelled...apparently 15 at Gibbs does not equal 15 at other places in Knox County...WHAT-THE-HELL-EVER...

My husband came home and took me to the dentist.  I took another dose of pain meds thinking it would help my neck, too, so I did not drive.  We made it to the dentists office without me getting carsick, but I wanted to.  My dentist did not think I had an abscess because I had been on antibiotics and I was still in a bunch of pain.  He though I had an occlusion injury which basically means I sprained my face.  It could have been caused by a crown being too large for my mouth even though I didn't feel like it was too big.  He filed my crown down and said I would hopefully see improvement the next day.  He also gave me a new prescription for Tyelenol 3.  While still making me nauseous, it knocks me out...I don't care about being nauseous if I'm asleep.

So now I thought, 'OK I'm going to be in less pain and get a good nights sleep and everything will be better.' That evening I started getting a bad sinus headache...one of those leather band tied around your eyes kind of headaches.  I was also really cold, but again, I always am. The Tylenol 3 did it's job, and I fell asleep pretty quickly.  I once again woke up in terrible pain and not able to sit up without holding my head on so it didn't snap off.  My mouth was still sore as the anesthetic had worn off, my headache was still there, and my uterus decided it was not getting enough attention.  In other words, I was miserable.  I cried to my mother who told me I could go to work, or go to the ER.  I hate most doctors as they tend to be arrogant assholes up to and including my grandfather, but I loved him so I actually enjoyed his arrogant assholism.  Plus he had the added benefit of never being my doctor.  Anyway, I'm specifically thinking about the three doctors that let me be miserable for 14 years because it was "just part of being a woman."  So I went to work since my mother was yelling at me for being a pansy, but I did make an appointment with a Nurse Practitioner at a clinic close to my school.  I'm thinking if pain-relief isn't helping my neck, maybe a muscle relaxant would help me, and unfortunately I don't have any of those lying around so I must depend on a medical-type.

So 2 o'clock came around, and I waited and waited and waited and almost walked out, but they called me back before I had the nerve to walk out.  I swore to myself that I would not mention the headache, it was just sinus afterall, because I figured they would say, "Sounds like you're a woman with stress.  Try ibuprofen."  However, they would not be fooled as I was holding my head up by the bridge of my nose.  So I got the whole ordeal including taking my temperature.  The nurse looked at me and said, "Did you know you had a fever?" I responded, "No, I did not."  She said, "Well, you do."

OK, so in addition to losing 18 lbs in two weeks due to recurrent nausea. I have torticullis, an ear and sinus infection with a fever, a bad hair day, sprained face, a job assignment that requires other people being capable of counting to 15 when they can't, anxiety and adjustment disorder.  No wonder I feel like shit.  I'm actually sick.  Who knew?  So  in addition to muscle relaxers, I got a shot of Toradol which is an anti-inflammatory, a shot of steroids (hurt like hell by the way, and I'm no needle-phobe), a prescription for a stronger antibiotic, and more steroids in pill-form.

So this brings me to this evening.  With some home-made chicken stew (THANKS MOM, [even though you tried to kill me and made me go to school today with a fever]) and enough drugs to have a really good time tonight, I'm hoping to feel much better from the neck up really soon.  From the neck down...Oy vey...

*WARNING: If bureaucratic bullshit upsets you, don't continue reading.*

On the Lupron front so my uterus will shut the hell up, I received a letter from my prescription insurance saying your prior authorization has been approved. "Call this number for assistance with getting the prescription filled."  So I called the number, and was told that I needed to actually call another number.  So I called the other number and was told that my insurance had not approved the medication for me yet.  I'm all like, "but I have this letter," and they are like, "but it doesn't mean anything," and I'm like, "but it says it's approved," and they are all like, "It IS approved by the prior authorization department, but it has not been approved for dispensing to you" and, I'm all like, "That makes no sense. What the hell language are you speaking?", and they are all like, "We need information about why it was prescribed for you." and I'm all like, "That was what was on the prior authorization, no?" and they are like, "it did not have enough information," and I'm all like, "Well, what the hell more information do you need?"  And they are all like, "We need to know WHY it was prescribed," And I respond, "Because I have endometriosis, which is what the prior authorization that has been approved said," and they reminded me, "We are not the prior authorization department," and I nicely asked that since I was diagnosed with a condition that causes pain and currently in pain caused by the said condition if there was any chance I could get the medicine in the year 2011...and they responded, "Not if it takes that long to verify the prescription and diagnosis....At this point, I may or may not have said, "Go to hell you imbecile" and hung up.  You'll never know...

So this is a week in the life of the unfortunate infertile, the losing 15% that didn't get pregnant in two rounds of IVF.  The sad thing is, I'm really trying hard to be better...

Peace, Love, and prescription narcotics,

MK

This is Hell...

It really is.  I asked my nurse if we could just go ahead and schedule a hysterectomy.  She said it was way too early for me to even be asking, but where was she when I was puking my guts out at 3:00am because my stomach couldn't tolerate even ibuprofen at that point.  Where was she when I was biting my pillow to keep from screaming? Writhing in pain doesn't really begin to describe how my nights have been going since Tuesday, but I'm banking that at some point I will crash and sleep. However it doesn't seem like tonight is that night...

In my best moments I'm drugged up to the point I don't care about the pain, (like this present moment) but I'm still in pain.  It's like my entire abdomen has collapsed in on itself. My back aches, and I still feel so tender and bruised.  My stomach is still pretty messed up.  I'm mentally exhausted from the physical pain.  Not to mention that I've just lost the one thing I wanted most in the world.  In the breaks from the cramps the emotional pain seems to flood back in.  It's just a horrible feeling that I wouldn't wish on anyone.

Thank God for my mother.  She's here nursing me through this weekend.  Helping BJ and I put back the pieces of our childless lives back together.  Packing up the meds, putting the ultrasound pictures away, and clearing the path for us to resume our lives as they were, but BJ and I are forever different.  We both know pain like it's a close friend.  Disappointment, grief, sadness have etched themselves into our bones.  Thanksgiving will always be that holiday that we lost our first child.  What a juxtaposition?

I've said from the beginning that there are never any guarantees. No one can tell us if/when/or what the ending of this story will look like. Any decision we make has the real possibility of ending poorly. As many things can go wrong and do go wrong with adoptions as IVF cycles.  Paperwork gets lost, birth-mothers change their minds, agreements fall through.  There is not an easy way out for us. The only easy way out is to be fertile to begin with, and that has never been an option for us.  Deciding not to parent at all is the choice that is easiest to refuse.

Ask me if I would go through all of this pain again not knowing if we'll ever have children, and I will tell you yes.  I would walk through Hell for my child whether I ever get to experience them in this realm or if I have to wait until I get to the Flipside.  It is a lot easier to write this knowing I have the full support of my life partner, BJ.  In addition, we have the rest of our family behind our backs, too.  We still even have a few friends who haven't disowned us just yet.

I don't know what our future looks like and for a planner like me, it seems completely asinine, but that's apparently how it's going to be.  We have a follow-up on Monday with Dr. D and from there is anybody's guess.

Peace, Love and a little sleep would be nice,
MK

How I Got Here Part 3: The Follow-Up

After my surgery, Dr. B. had told my husband that I did have endometriosis (endo), but he was able to remove all the lesions.  I did not have any adhesions which is pretty lucky since I've probably had endo since I was 15.  It turns out that being on Depo Provera (birth control shot) had been a good thing because it halts the progress of the endo.  A lot of people with fertility struggles who used depo like to blame it.  While it may take a while for your cycles to restart, I don't know of any legitimate research that says it harms fertility.  So, if you don't want the more drastic medications to slow endo down, and you aren't interested in spawning, it's definitely an option you and your doc could consider.

Anywhoselbees...I was feeling great in the weeks following my surgery.  My follow-up was scheduled for three weeks post-op.  In the meantime, I was free from pain, free to continue to try to spawn, and I was mentally doing better, too.  I had it in my head that Dr. B was going to tell me I was good to go and that my year of trying would start from March now that my endo had been cleaned out.  I really thought I was going to be able to conceive.  For most people with endo, they have an increased chance of getting pregnant in the 6-9 months after their surgery.  Thinking that my mom's fertile genes would kick in now that the obstacle of endo was removed, I really thought it was my time.

Unfortunately at my post-op check-out, I got slapped in the face with reality.  Dr. B. told me that my chromotubation (fallopian tube check) was great.  The dye spilled easily.  My anatomy was all normal, no fibroids, deformities or anything else wrong with my uterus.  He said he was able to remove all the endo I had, which wasn't much.  I am considered to have mild endo.  This sounds great right? Well, apparently it's not.  Dr. B. could see no reason why I had not been able to conceive.  With severe endo, you have tubes all tangled in scar tissue and adhesions that create physical barriers that prevent pregnancy.  When you have mild endo, you can usually still get pregnant, but when you don't, you really don't.  It depends on your fertility specialist's beliefs, but a lot will go ahead and give you an unexplained infertility diagnosis if you have mild endo and have not been able to conceive.

Dr. B told me that he was also concerned with my irregular periods which were now 26-43 days.  He told me he would write a prescription for Clomid for me to use my next cycle, and that it would help me ovulate at a more regular interval. 

Pardon the interruption for a quick physiology lesson!  In a typical functioning female (as in not me), after your period starts, which is the beginning of your cycle, your pituitary gland and hypothalmus tell your ovaries to get busy by releasing follicle stimulating hormone (FSH).  As your ovaries develop many follicles (they are basically cysts, that contain an egg).  When one or two follicles begin to mature, they release estrogen.  The estrogen then tells the hypothalmus to stop releasing FSH.  This is why most humans do not have litters of children naturally.  Luteinizing hormone is then released by the pituitary, and the most dominant follicle will release it's egg.  The other follicles simply dissipate and the eggs that were in them are gone forever.

BUT WAIT!  YOU'RE NOT NORMAL...OK, well here comes Clomid to save the day.  Clomid blocks the estrogen from telling your hypothalmus that the eggs are ready.  So for people who naturally don't have enough time in their cycle to let their eggs mature, Clomid gives them that time.  A side effect of this, is that it allows other follicles to catch up so you may release more than one egg.  Your chances of having twins goes up from less than 3%, to just under 10%.  You have less than a 1% chance of having triplets or more on Clomid.  For lots of people clomid works just great.  If you haven't conceived in about 6 cycles, however, it is probably time to move on to something different.

OK, back to me. It is my blog after all...

My doctor also said that we could go ahead and try intrauterine insemination (IUI).  I was dumbstruck.  This appointment did not go the way I had planned at all. He explained that the procedure was similar to a pap smear.  They use a catheter to place the sperm directly into the uterus so it is that much closer to the egg.  He asked if I wanted to go ahead and try IUI's or try naturally.  Without thinking, I immediately said I'll try naturally.  I was having some serious denial issues.

As I checked out, I noticed that my billing diagnosis said infertility.  I saw a card for a nurse practitioner at a fertility clinic.  I picked it up without really thinking.  I made it to my car with my prescription in hand one hand and the fertility clinic business card in the other, got in the driver's seat, and had a meltdown.  The ax had officially dropped, I was indeed infertile.  I called my wonderful husband, and he had me come to meet him at his office.  He patiently let me sob through the details of my appointment and told me he was willing to do whatever he needed to do.  He encouraged me to email the nurse practitioner at the fertility clinic.  He wanted me to get a second opinion.  Which is not to say either one of us doubted Dr. B at all.  We both just needed to be told by someone else before we could accept it. 

The nurse practitioner responded to my email the next day while I was at work.  She said the next step for us would be to have BJ's swimmers looked at (semen analysis).  Knowing that BJ had said yesterday he was willing to do whatever, I thought, 'OK, I'll just get the logistics of how that will work and what times were available.' I called the clinic and said I was interested in procuring a semen analysis for my husband.  They asked for his information, which I just happened to know, and the receptionist said, "How is 8:30 am Monday?" I responded, "Perfect!"  She asked for his health insurance info which I did not have all the details of, and told me it was fine, she would be emailing him shortly. Uh, oh...

I tried to call BJ to let him know what I had done, but when he answered the phone he immediately said, "Can't talk now, in a meeting," and quickly hung up. Oh, boy, I was gonna be in trouble.  It was not 20 minutes later that I got a "WTF" text message.  To which I responded, "Exactly, but in a cup."  After the initial shock of my guerilla semen analysis approach, BJ quickly resolved himself to go through with it.  So, if you ever wanna play a practical joke on a guy...you can apparently set up an appointment for them to have a semen analysis without their consent.  I guess this makes sense.  How many men would actually take the initiative to have this done and call for an appointment? I gather from my experience that it's not many...

Peace, Love and Spawning,
MK

How I Got Here: Part 1, "You need surgery"

So, BJ and I had been trying to spawn, unsuccessfully for 6 months. During that time, my menstrual cycles continued to get more wonky. I had been on depo provera (the shot that lasts three months) for birth control for just over three years. My last shot was in August 2009, and my periods restarted March 1, 2010. From March to June, my cycles were 31 days apart. 'Perfect,' or so I thought...

June 2010, I noticed that I started having mid-cycle pain, known as mittelschmerz (leave it to the Germans). It wasn't terrible, just uncomfortable. Over the next few months this mitttelschmerz grew from mild crampiness to sudden stabbing pains that just kind of ripped through my torso without any warning. It seemed like I was constantly uncomfortable the majority of my cycle culminating with my menstrual cramps that were just unbearable at this point and every bit as bad as they we're in high school with cold sweats, nausea, and extreme pain. Luckily, they only lasted for 48-72 hours, which turns out to not necessarily be a good thing, either. Also my cycles had become more irregular going from 27 days to 35 and everywhere in between. This made trying to nail down when I was going to ovulate, next to impossible. To add to the fun, I was growing more and more uncomfortable during the act of trying to make this love child.

OK, so 6 months flew by (not at all, actually...) and I'm in my gyno's office with my husband. He told me I wasn't so irregular yet, that I needed Clomid. I took this kind of hard because I had it worked out in my head that Clomid was going to be my miracle cure, like it was for a friend of mine. One Clomid cycle and bam, she was prego. So then he asked about my pain. I was already starting to get embarrassed for wasting his time, (my doc didn't make me feel that way, I just am sensitive about coming off as a malingerer) and, as I mentioned before, started in with my gloss over about how I survive. The 1000mg of ibuprofen every four hours caught his attention, and BJ was able to involve himself in just how bad my periods were.

My periods had been this way all my life, so I didn't know any differently. Anytime I mentioned it to a medical type, I was dismissed. I had never considered endometriosis because I incorrectly assumed that I would have sporadic mid-cycle bleeding which I never did. I was really angry that three different doctors never took the time to find out just how much pain I was in. Take-home lesson, if you're in pain, go ahead and whine to your doctor until he listens. Oh, and extremely painful periods are not normal or "just part of being a woman." You have my permission to slap anyone who says that to you...

My doctor wanted to perform a laparoscopy. He described it as a "band-aid" surgery, and I'd have two small incisions, one in my belly button and one just over my pubic bone. The surgery is the only way to diagnose endometriosis (endo for short) as it doesn't show up on ultrasounds. I was a little shocked that exploratory surgery was necessary, especially when all I wanted was Clomid.

After taking a week to think about it (da Nile ain't just a river in Egypt), I decided to go ahead and schedule the surgery for February 8th, just after when I expected my period to end, like my doctor wanted. My doctor called me back and explained that in addition to the laparoscopy with possible endo lesion removal I was going to get the full spa treatment. He also wanted to do a hysteroscope, possibly a D&C, and the chromotubation. (I explain these in more detail in my "so you decide to get help" post.) I was kinda like, 'hmm you conveniently left all of this out.' Whatever, I want a baby...

So I sat down with my boss later that week and told him that I had to have surgery. I have found that if you have male superiors, a few tears, throwing out words like vagina and ovaries, and mentioning gynecologist pretty much will get you what you want. He, bless his heart, mentioned that between his two daughters and wife, had a lot of experience with malfunctioning female parts. I have been very blessed to have quite a number of amazing friends, co-workers and relatives who have been such great cheerleaders.

January came, and I spent my spare time charting my symptoms, still trying to procreate, and researching endo. Holy bananas! I had no idea that all this extra pain I was having was related to my possible endo. If it's not bad enough to be in terrible pain for three days out of every month, it also hurt like hell to go to the bathroom. I had found over the previous couple of months that if I did not eat or drink anything while on my period, the pain wasn't quite so bad. I wanted to take as much pressure off my lower abdomen as possible. Who knew this was yet another symptom of endo? I was constantly having what I would describe as a sinus headache of the uterus. I was getting pretty miserable and had been having a lot of trouble staying asleep. I would be woken up with random cramps and pelvic pain in the middle of the night, and not be able to go back to sleep. 'Snot fun.

I also started reading message board responses on infertility sites about endometriosis and surgery, and came out rather horrified. Things in the wrong place, glued to the wrong parts with scar tissue and never working again. Holy crapola! So then I made the mistake of asking my nursing student friend about the surgery and she spouted off facts about ectopic pregancies being more common with endo and sometimes the only thing that could be done was a hysterectomy. Now, I was certifiably scared. Then she tried to soothe me with "It's no big deal they do laps all the time. Oh, and you'd be shocked at the number of people that just walk in and out of the operating room." Oh, geez...The idea of being under anesthesia in stirrups has never exactly been on my bucket list. Now I got full body shudders every time someone mentioned my surgery...still do, ick!

February 1st came and went, and so did the 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th...but my period never came. As if I needed anymore problems! My secretary told me about the old wives' tale of parsley inducing your period...so I tried sucking on Parsley for the rest of the week (desperate and super-yuck), but I ended up having to postpone my surgery to the following week. On Friday the 11th, still nothing and I had not slept because of my cramps for two nights. I felt awful and started puking in the middle of an in-service meeting. (I'm sure the director thought I had a hangover...*sigh* if only). I called the nurse and she asked me to come in and do some labs and see my doctor. He explained that I might have to take Provera to induce a period or that I could be pregnant and it was just too early to detect with a home pregnancy test. The last thing I needed was to get my hopes up about being pregnant. He slunked back in after he got my labs back and told me it was negative and he was sorry. He was reassuring in the sense that this stuff happens a lot and I could reschedule as many times as necessary. He also gave me a prescription for Lunesta, and I slept really well for the first time in 2 months.

And lo, the next morning my period came after just 43 days... I guess I just needed to be scared into it. Surgery, then baby, here I come!

Later,
MK