Post-op Appointment

Today was my post-op after my lap.  I shaved my legs last night, and all for nothing!  Apparently, today was just for talking - no vag cam necessary.  I sat in the exam room for 70 minutes waiting for him to come in.  I swear to you, I have the patience of a freaking saint.  My blood pressure was soaring by the time he opened the door. 

He showed me 24 pictures of my insides that he took during my procedure.  Good news... I have a uterus!  Next came the pictures of my paratubal cyst.  I felt silly snapping a pic on my phone but it looked like a clear balloon with blood vessels around it.  He assured me today that he removed the entire thing, and he said he has no way of telling if that cyst had any baring on our poor baby making luck.  

Lastly, he showed me the pictures of my endometriosis.  It was located on the posterior cul de sac of the pelvis.  According to Moon-dog, this is the most important area of the pelvis when it comes to creating a human.  The ovaries hang down into the cul de sac, which means the ovaries, ends of fallopian tubes, back of the uterus and intestines are susceptible to the disease.  

It looked very similar to this: (the discolored areas are the endo)

So, of course, he lasered it away, and hopefully lasered our 

troubles, disappointment, and sadness away with it. 

Now, for the part that you've been waiting for.  I got the ok to stop my birth control pills today, and the plan is to wait for my cycle to start (hopefully within 1-2 days), do a day 3 ultrasound to make certain the ovarian cysts are gone, and then start back up on the daily injections.  IUI #5 to follow sometime hopefully mid march.  I'm hoping that this is the turning point for us.  It has been an incredibly long and tiring journey and this girl is about wiped out.  There is a saying "the harder to get, the better to have".  If that is true, this child is going to be superkid, strikingly good looking, never ever get in trouble, and probably find the cure for cancer.  Can't freaking wait.  Ha.

Being the Cool Aunt is second best

I have a new little buddy. 

He's handsome, smells good, and very cuddly... 

and he stole my heart instantly.  

You may be asking yourself how an infertile like myself handles a new baby in the family.  Well, there are a wide range of emotions, but at the end of the day, he is my nephew, and I would throw myself in front of a train to save him.  I want to teach him how to be a respectful man, just like his uncle.  I want to have movie night sleep overs and let him eat way too much candy and run wildly around the house like a little sugar-high crazy man.  I want to smother him in kisses and hugs, even when he's too old and it's not "cool" to love your family anymore.  

The phone call from my sister-in-law was excruciating when she called to tell me she was pregnant.  Not for me, but for her.  She had known of our troubles for about 5-6 months at that time.  We had had our first appointment with our reproductive endocrinologist 2 months before.  And we had been trying for 9 months at that time.  She was very upset, and I'm sure it was extremely hard for her to tell me.  They had put off trying for a little bit to try to let us have our "happy moment" first, but this is the way the cards were dealt.  I would be lying if I said I didn't cry after I got off the phone, but I quickly recovered.  How could I possibly be upset about another nephew?  

My next thoughts were "well, it's totally fine, because I will be pregnant for sure by the time that he is born, and then it won't sting at all, and then our babies can grow up together."  Well, obviously that didn't quite work out.  I had my laparoscopy 4 days before he was born.  And when I got to meet him last weekend, I just stared down at him while holding him and resting him against my fresh scars.

 

Life works that way sometimes.  You can plan all you want and hope that things work out just how you'd like.  But it's not going to happen like that.  

You roll with the punches, cry when you're in private, smile when you're in public, and most importantly - for me at least - you focus all your love on 3 little people.  

Hurry up and freaking wait

Happy Valentines Day, peeps.  This used to be one of my favorite days of the year.  This year, not so much, but then again, I don't have a lot of favorite things lately.  If you're looking for hearts and flowers and sweetness, look away... quickly, 'cause you aren't gonna find any of that crap here today. 
Wah wah wah... blah blah blah.

Our journey to parenthood has of course not been much fun, and it's seeming to intensify in it's suckiness. Yesterday, I played phone tag 6 times trying to be able to talk with a nurse at my clinic.  You have to keep leaving voicemails, and then they call back, but when you have my job, you are never able to answer the phone.  I called to ask 2 questions:
- How bad was the endo?  Mild, moderate, severe, trainwreck?
- I have 3 days of birth control pills left, then will start next cycle.  Can I please pick back up with treatment?

Pretty easy questions in my opinion.  Well, nothing is easy when you are an infertile.  This is what the nurse said when I finally got to talk to her:
"Hi Jen, I talked to Dr. M and he said that he talked with your husband right after surgery to tell him everything, but yes, he did find endometriosis.  Also, you have to have a post-op visit before we can come up with a plan.  Let's go ahead and get that scheduled for next week."
So... a lot of talking, but no answers to the questions. 

I heard back from them today, telling me that he wants me to continue on with another pack of bc pills, without letting myself have a period, so my fingers are crossed that means that he is maybe considering letting me start back up after I see him on the 22nd.  All I know for sure is that I had a mini-meltdown yesterday when I was realizing how long we have been at this and that we might be on the cusp of adding another wasted month.  OY!  My mind works like this:
'Ok, I let you cut me open, you cleaned my shit up, now let's get the freaking ball rolling and knock me up already, like now!'
My mom got frustrated with me yesterday while I was venting, telling me that I just had surgery and need to cool it and stop acting like my father.  I understand that (all three of those things are true), but it seems to be pretty hard for everyone to understand that I am now in month #18 without a positive test, or much of anything positive for that matter. 

Take a moment, soak that in.

  18 months.  

And I can't do a damn thing about it.  

Depressing, right?  Sorry...

I'm just in one of those moods and I've learned that I just have to wait until the mood passes.  In a few days, I'll be 'fine' again and able to force my fake smiles and act like I'm functioning at a high level.  But for today, I just want to be pissed. 

Just so I don't leave you all feeling like you just watched a super sad movie, I'll post a pic of my sweet valentine.  She still loves me, pissed or not. 

Lap Results: He found a Mess... YES!

Howdy y'all.  I'm back amongst the living.  Yesterday was a very long day.  We left the house at 9:45a and got home at 11p.  Moon-dog was behind all morning (surprise, surprise) so my pre-op appointment that was supposed to be at 10:45 actually happened at 12:15.  He basically just talked with Ryan and I about what was going to happen and then we went downstairs to the same day surgical center.  Right before we left his office, he said the famous last words, "I know I'm running behind, but my first surgical case before you should be short and sweet, so we will probably start on time."  As a doc myself, I know you should never promise those things.  It's Murphy's Law.  

Well, they got me prepped, put my IV in, took me upstairs to the surgical center, then kicked my hubby and mom out to the waiting room.  I laid there for a good 45 minutes, and a nurse came over saying that she called my family back in to sit with me for awhile because the case before me was taking much longer than expected.  And when I say much longer, I mean he was in there with her for 2 hours when it should have been 30 minutes.  Doc came into where I was waiting to apologize for being behind, and then proceeded to tell us that the case before had a fibroid tumor that filled her entire uterus and he broke 2 roto-rooter tools while trying to break it up.  He looked exhausted, and I thought to myself "that's probably not the best thing to say when you're about to open me up doc." 

The anesthesiologist then injected something into my IV to help me relax, I said bye to my family and they wheeled me back.  I think I have about 30 seconds of memory from there on.  The last thing I recall was the anesthesiologist saying "ok doc smith, go ahead and take a deep breath" and I remember the gas smelling disgusting. 

I woke up in the recovery room with mom and Ryan staring at me.  My throat hurt so bad from the intubation and I immediately started complaining that I was hungry and wanted Chick-fil-a. (it was about 7pm when I woke up)  They told me that I wasn't allowed to leave until I peed, so I started chugging fluids while Ryan went to fill my pain meds.  All in all, this is what I drank:
-2 cans of ginger ale
-a bottle of diet dr pepper
-2 hospital pitchers of water
-small bottle of gatorade
-cup of hot tea

... and after all that, I couldn't pee.  They cathed me during surgery, and I had gone so long without fluids that I was awfully dehydrated.  I was getting very irritated at the nurses, so I just went and sat in the bathroom for 15 minutes and forced some out.  I was so proud of myself, called the nurse in, and she said it wasn't enough and I had to go more.  Um, excuse me biznatch?  So, my mother, being the good nurse she is, grabbed my IV bag and opened it all the way and started squeezing the fluids into me as I chugged more water.  About 15 minutes later, I was able to go again, and the begged to get the hell out of there.  We left the hospital at 10:15pm... and then went to Wendy's because Chick-fil-a was closed.  Boo! 

I'm pretty sore today and also pretty sleepy.  The incision he made at my hip bone hurts pretty bad.  I woke up every hour, on the hour last night to pee because I was so full of fluids (stupid nurse).  But it's all worth it, at least, I hope so.  Doc found multiple cysts and endometriosis and told Ryan that he "took care of it all".  So, we are hopeful that that was the root cause of our reproductive woes.  Honestly, I would have been enormously pissed off if it was all rainbows and a pot of gold in there, so I am so happy there was a mess.  Does it suck to have to deal with endometriosis now... yes.  But at least we have some sort of 'problem' to blame all this on. 

I'm not certain what the next step is, or when the next step gets to happen, so I will call the office on Monday to get some more answers.  Until then, I'm parked on my couch for the weekend watching basketball and cooking shows, and eating an insane amount of popsicles to help with this sore throat.  Oh, and the vicodin is pretty nice too :)  Somebody get me a cocktail!...

Under the knife: Um, you're going to do What to me?

Tomorrow's the big day.  I am far from thrilled, but at this point in the journey, I have to do what I have to do.  If my doc told me to stand on my head and lick dog poo while singing the Barney theme song, I would do it quickly and proudly if he promised me I'd get KTFU (knocked the F up, for those who aren't hip to the lingo). 

Anyhoo... my laparoscopy is scheduled for tomorrow at 2pm.  The day is gonna go a little like this:
-Wake up, be really thirsty and hungry, but not allowed to have anything after midnight
-Be at my doctors office at 10:45 & bring urine sample so that they can dip a pregnancy test (ironic, right?) 
-Surgery Center by noon for prep, get IV (should be fun with my awesome veins), still be hungry. 
-Surgery at 2

How does a lap work?  Me, being an OCD crazy worrier, I have researched a little for myself, and for you guys I guess. 

First off, it starts with general anesthesia and intubation for a breathing tube... sounds great already, right?  A lot of things I read said they scrub your belly and pelvis down with "special soap" ~I hope it is coconut scented~ and sometimes will shave your pubic hair ~wonder if I can request a sweet-ass design?~  Dr. Moon-Dog will then make an incision in my belly button, insert a hollow needle, and fill my abdomen with nitrous oxide gas.  Next, the insert the thin lighted tube (laparoscope) and take a look around.  They are looking for things like endometriosis, scar tissue, cysts, basically anything that is not supposed be there.  If they find anything, the laser/peel it away right then and there - wham bam thank ya ma'am.  They release the gas (probably wouldn't be good to leave it in there, have me wake up from anesthesia, and look down to see a belly that looks 8 months pregnant... that's corporal punishment for an infertile), stitch me up, and start the process of waking me up. 

Please find this shiz!  

Dr. Moon-Dog told Ryan that he'd come out and talk to him after he was all done.  He said to be prepared for one of two scenarios:

(1) I'm going to wake up and be pretty pissed off because he found a mess of crap in there and that means we wasted thousands of dollars and months of time with treatments that didn't have a chance to work.
(2) I'm going to wake up and be pretty pissed off because he didn't find a damn thing, which means we still have no reason that we haven't gotten KTFU
**Great options, right?  I guess doing this enough, he pretty much knows how us crazy infertiles rationalize good and bad news**

I guess then I wake up and stay in recovery for 2-4 hours, then make the long drive home.  I've been told I'll be down and out for the entire weekend.  I'm scheduled to work for half a day on Monday, and I'm pretty sure I'll be seeing patients in yoga pants (I can picture Chelsea Handler saying to me "I ain't mad at ya, girl" in response to that... I really wish she was my friend in real life). 

I'm nervous, not happy about it, but there's a glimmer of hope that I might be waiting for me afterward.  I really hope he finds a giant freaking mess in there, cleans that shit up, waxes and spit shines my baby maker, and it clears the way way for a positive result in our March cycle.  A girl can hope, right?

See you guys on the flip side...

So darlin', darlin', stand.. by me...

I married an amazing man.  

Hands down, the best guy I know (in a very un-biased opinion, haha).  I believe we both knew about midway through our first date that this was probably going to be a forever kind of thing.  I've always described our relationship as 'easy'.  It was easy to fall in love with him.  Easy to get along with him.  Easy to agree to marry him.  I never have to "try" to be a good wife to him.  We just get each other.  The day I married him, I was so calm - which freaked my mother out - because I just knew it was right.  There was nothing to worry about.  Happiest day and biggest smiles of my life.  

And then... we got about 4 months of marital bliss.  We had lied to our family and friends (sorry guys) and told them all we wouldn't be trying for kids right away.  We didn't want people to know that we were trying just in case it took a few months to get pregnant.  Few months... ha!  F*ck that!  Around December of 2011 we started to figure out that something wasn't quite right with me.  We thought we were pregnant on my 29th birthday actually, and I can still see the twinkle in my hubby's eyes when I came out of the bathroom after taking a test.  He looked so hopeful and excited and ready to celebrate.  That memory breaks. my. heart.  

Ever since then, we have been in a whirlwind of bloodwork, semen samples, vag cams, hormones, artificial inseminations, and best of all: scheduled sex.  Nothing says "hot" like having your doctor tell you what time of day to get busy.  I actually write it in my planner just to make sure we follow the 'rules'.  I'm a freaking emotional basketcase at all hours of every day and there's my poor hubby... just having to deal with it.  Infertility takes it's toll on your body, your mind, your heart, and worst of all, your marriage.  

Hubby's not perfect - I'm not delusional.  There are times that I'm in a terrible mood or very sad and he doesn't understand why.  There are times here and there when I feel like he's not being considerate of my shitty feelings.  But for the most part, he's just there, waiting to pick up my pieces when I fall apart.  When I was putting my pants back on after finding out I was benched with cysts and scheduled for surgery, he whispered "dinner is on me tonight" and then bought me fried pickles at Max&Ermas (yum-o).  He cancelled his trip to Athens for Sibs Weekend next weekend because of my lap surgery being scheduled the day before it.  He puts a bottle of water in my car for me on days that I have to make the long drive to the doctor's.  Little things, but important for me to know that he's got my back.  

Most importantly, my hubby is a father already... just in waiting.  He will be an amazing dad.  He's got the skills - no training necessary.  He is ready, and he wants kids so badly.  For now, he plays the role of the uncle that everyone wishes they had.  We have an amazing niece and nephew (and soon to be another nephew in about a week or so).  The love he has for those kids oozes out of his soul.  This picture of my niece with him melts my heart every time I see it. 

He's always optimistic that every treatment cycle is going to work and I can see the disappointment he tries to hide in his face when I tell him that it didn't.  He doesn't deserve to have to wait so long and to have to 'produce his specimen' in a plastic cup on demand.  It makes me even more sad to think about him being disappointed.  It's my fault that he's not a dad yet.  My body is the broken one.  On really bad days, I even allow myself to wonder if he would still have wanted to marry me if he knew there was a possibility I couldn't have any kids > what an awful thought to think, but a valid question when you are in the throes of a breakdown. 

So our easy relationship has turned into a tension filled, schedule busting, emotional roller coaster, financial draining, yet still (thankfully) loving marriage.  The one silver lining of this whole shit-show: if we can make it through infertility, we can make it through anything.  I can seriously say that.  If we didn't have a fantastic marriage before we started this journey, we would be totally screwed.  Totally.

I'm a lucky girl.  I found a man that makes me incredibly happy.  I'm just desperately trying to turn that amazing hubby into an amazing daddy.  And I won't stop until I do.  I mean, who could resist having a kid that resembles this cuteness?...