Honesty is such a lonely word

Ok, so I have to be honest with you; someone was honest with me about the procedure I am having on Friday (she had it too) and I am scared shitless. It was my own fault for asking I suppose. When I asked what her experience was like she said something a long the lines, “when I came to I was in pain. I was hit with morphine and then I begged for more. Then they gave me something else and I woke up about 30 minutes later feeling much better. They will make you stay until you can get up and pee on your own. It was a little hard to get up and move around after. They will put your legs in these weird things – I guess it’s to keep your blood from clotting or something – they are horrible. But then pretty much after that, it was ok.” I am so glad to know it is ‘okay’ after what sounds like to me, a whole lot of torture. My goodness; I am not sure what is okay. Is it the fact that your legs are no longer harnessed? Or the fact you can breathe without needing morphine? That you can go potty all by yourself? It is official, I am scared.

To top off the day, I got a call from the friendly pre-surgery screener, Sherrhonda. She asked me all about my medical history and then it seemed like the questions were getting personal. How long have I not been getting a period? Do I know why I am not getting a period? Do they think this ‘blockage’ is what is causing me trouble?” I must have sounded a little put off because then she proceeded to tell me that she doesn’t get a period either but her doctor told her it was “no big deal but she ain’t sure herself”. All of the sudden I felt like I was the one there to help her through her issues. I told Sherrhonda that she should probably get a second opinion since she only got her period twice is the past year. She made sure to let me know she was not trying to get pregnant since our in our exchange I had mentioned I was trying to get pregnant. Good to know Sherrhonda, good to know. Still probably want a second opinion. She also informed me that the pre-op nurse would call me tomorrow to go over the details. What the hell did we just go over then??

I really want to cry, scream, hid, and beat somebody. After this, whatever happens with baby making, I don’t know if I can even care. Right now I am perfectly content with our 2 dogs. And that's the honest truth.

I Vant To Suck Your Blood

In the Halloween spirit I had 5 or 6 viles of blood sucked out of my body yesterday morning. It was like a vampire attacked me. This is of course after I went to the hospital my doctor told me to go to, to get the blood taken prior to the surgery, and they then sent me elsewhere. Already missing a good night's sleep and the first hour of work, I drove to Fort Lauderdale only to be sent back to Pompano. UUUGGGHH. Apparently my insurance would only cover the blood work if I did it at a Quest Diagnostics, so, that is where I had to go. Oh there was one not too far from the hospital but I did not realize that until I was on my way to the one in Pompano. If you don't know South Florida I drove south to the hospital to go back north to Pompano and still had to go southwest to work. Lucky for me, Quest was not busy and I was able to get in rather quickly. Unlucky for me, the woman who drew my blood was like a scary Halloween costume with a deep, scary voice to match. I am going to just leave it at that.
Today I saw a call come in from a number I didn't know. I instantly thought, "OMG something is wrong with my blood work." With trepidation I checked my voice mail; it was the hospital calling but just to review pre-op logistics. Phew. I don't want to admit it and say it out loud, but in all honesty, I keep thinking horrible things. I am scared to death that they will find the big "C" or I won't wake up from the anaesthesia. BAD thoughts, BAD. It's kinda like when I went running this morning and was petrified there was a rapist in my house when I got back. So many bad and unknown things have happened lately that my brain is creating worst case scenarios. I want to only think positive and put light and good energy out there. I want to have faith in my faith...and I do for the most part, I just am having moments of weakness the past 24 hours. Maybe I am just lightheaded from all the blood sucking.

Sandwiches and Smooches

It has been awhile since I sat in front of this computer and typed about my worries and tales of woe. I was traveling for business this week and for 5 days I escaped the world I know. It was a good time to get away with the upcoming surgery, the break-in, etc. While I was away it seemed the bad news followed me though, as my mother called to tell me she was laid off after 11 years of service with the same company. I felt sick to my stomach and felt overwhelmed even after breathing in the mountain air of Denver and drinking my favorite flavored tea. But then I changed my thinking and said to my friend as we discussed it all, "At least my mom didn't lose her legs and I am not having heart surgery...it could be worse." I changed my perspective and then I focused on work. I enjoyed the mindfulness I had on presentations and training. I appreciated the long days and busy hours. I welcomed the ever changing time zones and early wake-up calls. I welcomed conversations with old friends who made me feel 5 years younger and a little more carefree. All of these things, even if just temporarily, made me forgot I am fighting to get pregnant and down 20 pieces of jewelry.
I came home Friday night feeling okay but it's hard to stay in Escapeland for too long. Reality always has a way of slapping you in the face. There is a list a mile long of things I need to do now that I am home. I am slowly checking them off. Tomorrow will be blood work at the hospital for my upcoming procedures. Ugh. If that isn't reality saying "good morning and welcome back" I don't know what is. All the pressure is really getting to me...to us. There have been a few days of lost tempers and feelings of distress. My husband and I both have so much on our plates right now and the fullness sometimes gets the better of us. What's nice though is that the better of us always seems to prevail...like today. After intense negative feelings and an early morning argument, a simple 'peace be with you' during Mass, a chicken sandwich made for lunch, and a meaningful kiss on the lips erased the negativity. I sure do make a good sandwich, and Mike sure does give good kisses.

Burglarys and still no Babies

So as if the week couldn't get any worse, our house was burglarized yesterday. All of my best and favorite jewelry was stolen, along with some stupid CDs. I feel violated, sad, scared and angry. I am officially PISSED OFF! I mean I am really, truly trying this whole enlightenment thing. I am trying to breath more, judge less, and not take things so hard, but come on. Someone is testing me BIG time. I forgot to mention that I thought my cat was dying this week too, but that God Frankie just had a crazy mouth infection. I am beyond the stage where wine makes it better. I am at the point where I just want to live in an igloo with my Uggs. But in the meantime I am busy filling out police reports and reading up on laparoscopys. Good times.
I won't bore you with the details of all my jewelry pieces now gone, but I will share with you some highlights from my procedures in 2 weeks. I will be quoting my favorite statements from my research. Mind you, this is supposed to be 'nothing to worry about.'
Laparoscopy is a surgery that uses a thin, lighted tube put through a cut in the belly...used to find abnormal growths (such as tumors) in the belly or pelvis...check for damage to internal organs, such as spleen...conditions including cysts, adhesions, fibroids, and infections...fix a hiatal hernia...partial removal of the colon. You may be asked to use an enema several hours before the day of the surgery.
D+C involves expanding or enlarging the entrance of a woman's uterus so that a thin, SHARP instrument can scrap or suction away the lining of the uterus and take tissue samples. Often used for Fibroids and polyps, Endometrial cancer, or incomplete miscarriage.
Now, you tell me, does anything I listed sound like something you wouldn't worry about? I got emotional talking through all of our challenges and my doctor was like "DON'T overreact." I felt like saying "You DON'T freakin overreact to my overreacting and shut your mouth person with a penis! I don't see you getting a sharp instrument up your manhood. You are just sticking one up my womanhood, so ZIP IT!" But instead I dried my tears and followed doctor's orders. I am sure he is right, this won't be so bad, and he won't find anything scary or major, he will just clean me out and get me ready to receive Mike's swimmers when they grow up!
I am drinking tea right now. It's supposed to calm you. It's part of my enlightenment routine. It's not really working. I am going to need something stronger to go back to my police report, maybe I will put on my Uggs and drink my tea.

No news is good news...I wish I had no news...

The other 'not good' day had nothing on today. I am not much for talking or typing right now, but long story short I do have blockage in my tubes, now I have to go in for another procedure, and this time through my freakin belly button (plus a DNC). I will fill you in on the details of the procedures later but for now I am too pissed and sad to get into it. I mean really, does it have to be that every time I go to the doctor I need to schedule a procedure? Can't I catch a break? The good news is I will at least be put to sleep this time. The bad news, I am afraid of being put to sleep because I think I will never wake up.
Anyway, on top of my issues my husband's sperm is...BAD. Low volume and high mortality rate = not a lot of swimmers and the majority of the ones there are dead. So now he is on Chlomed! Who knew that a man could take the same fertility hormone prescription as a woman. Let's just hope he doesn't go psycho like I did on that shit. I won't be able to handle it as well as he did.
At a later date I will fill you in on how my doctor told me I am 'overreacting' when I started to cry about all of it, how I had therapy schedule right after (God's always watching out) and how my therapist gave me potpourri which made everything just lovely for a moment. But for right now, I am going to finish this glass of wine, put on pjs, and sleep my ass off.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow...

I love ya tomorrow, you're only a day a way!! Tomorrow I go to my OBGYN for the 44th time this year (I think that's an exaggeration, I really have no idea how many times I have been there, but it is a lot)! Tomorrow is to review the results from my hysteroyoucantgetpregogram and to review the results from my husband's 'test'. He had to masturbate into a cup, big deal, but you would have thought he was the one getting a catheter stuck up him along with all the other poking, prodding and medications that have been prescribed. I love my husband dearly, but it took him 7 months to complete his one task and he freaked out any time I asked him if he had taken care of 'it'. 7 whole months to get his boys in a cup to be tested...I could have almost had a baby in that time! When he actually did get the courage to do it, he said the room was dirty with stains, it was disturbing, and he wasn't sure if he got enough juice out for the mission. We will find out tomorrow. I am sure he did squeeze out what was needed, I don't imagine the lab requires a cup full, and I am sure he is a-okay. I mean, I am not getting a period on my own (all done with my Provera for this month and still waiting) which is a pretty good sign that the issue is on my end. But in order to go on to 'the next step' we both need to be tested. Sigh. I don't even want to think about 'the next step', so I won't...until tomorrow...because that's when the sun will come out.

Rattle and Hum (minus an actual rattle)

I am getting ready to go to Tampa on Friday. I am going to see U2 in concert which is one of my most favorite things to do. I see them whenever they tour and I usually cry at the show because it is such an amazing experience. My hubby has never seen U2 live so I am very excited to introduce him to the most fly concert known to man (or woman). What's crazy is that when I had the false positive pregnancy test back in April (and actually thought I was preggers for 24 hours) I counted out the months to see how far along I would be for the concert...about 6 months. I was EXCITED because I could tell my child and anyone else who wanted to know, that his or her first concert was U2; that we truly, in every sense of the word, experienced the show together. Sounds kinda ridiculous right? I guess when you are pregnant or think you are pregnant or are even just thinking about being pregnant you plan things for your baby. You want them to have the most amazing experiences, the best of everything, a life filled with breath taking moments. So I guess that is where my mind was back on the Easter Sunday morning as I checked off the months on the calender.
Even though I am not with child and can't mark this as 'baby's first concert' I am still entirely out of my mind excited for the show, and the good news is (yes I can drink) but the good news is that I get to experience the concert with the father of my, our, someday baby.

Rx

Do you know what my crazy ass did this morning? I took another pregnancy test. I woke up and thought “I still feel bloated and tired. The first pee is always the best pee so why not give that lonely stick sitting in the box a whirl.” Not sure if I thought I would get a different result than Saturday; actually I didn’t think I would get a different result, but nonetheless I felt the need. Maybe because it’s been a week since I was ‘due’ and wanted to celebrate the anniversary? You have to find ways to keep yourself entertained through this experience. Anyway, instead of going to pick up Saltines for morning sickness, I will be going to Walgreens today to pick up my Provera to kick start that period again. Did I tell you why I only do drive-thru pick ups now? Oh yes, there is no going inside for me when it comes to picking up the P (that’s what I like to call my Provera. Kinda makes me feel like a badass going to get her supply, get her fix. Again, gotta keep it interesting). So the story behind only going through the drive-thru…the last time I went inside to get the P...picture this…

5:30 PM on weekday. The store is busy and as I walk my way to the back of the store I notice all the lip gloss and mascara. On my way out I will have to check out the latest colors and fat lash brushes, I think to myself. I get to the back of the store, AKA, The Pharmacy and I am instantly in a crowd. People are there to pickup, drop-off, ask questions, and some even seem to be there just to take their blood pressure. The older folks especially enjoy that machine. Anyway, I shimmy my way to the counter and state my name and that I am there for a pickup. It takes a minute and while I am looking at Theraflu flavors I hear my name called. I go to the counter which is swarming with people (thank God not bees) and with an attempt at an inside voice but still rather loudly, the pharmacy tech says, “Mrs. Bollon, are you pregnant? You shouldn’t be taking this medication if you are pregnant and we have a note stating you are pregnant.”
Okay, first of all…are you kidding me?? They have a note? From who? Certainly isn’t from me, my doctor or God because all of us know I am 100% not with child.
Second of all, do all these people need to be staring at me right now, waiting for an answer like they are watching Deal or No Deal and anxious to see what’s in case number 12? This is personal business, not a broadcast. I swear, even the older woman on the blood pressure measure is checking me out.
I calmly and firmly state that I am not pregnant. Inside I feel panic and embarrassment, but I am fairly confident I portrayed an un-rattled woman. The tech seems confused, people are still staring, and I just want the hell out of there. After what seems like an eternity, things return to normal, the pharmacy is a buzz with waiting customers, the older woman is concentrating on her blood pressure results, and I am handed my P. I quickly escape the store, unable to even enjoy the high of examining the latest in lash wear, and lock myself in to the safety of my car.

Maybe for someone who wasn’t going through fertility challenges it wouldn’t have been as traumatic, but for me it was. I still can’t figure out why I was embarrassed…why should I be embarrassed? I have nothing to be embarrassed about. I guess thinking about it now, it was just for the sheer fact that I wasn’t pregnant and had to say it aloud for strangers to hear and felt like they would judge me and try to guess what I was taking and why. I shouldn’t care if that is what anyone was doing but I guess I did. It’s hard enough going through this without additional attention or judgement.

So that is why I now use the drive-thru for my prescription. Either that or Mike picks up the P for me…it’s a pretty safe bet that they won’t ask him if he’s pregnant.