Recent History--part two

After consultation with a laparoscopic specialist at the practice, I geared up for surgery. I went in to this surgery scared, not as scared as previously, but still scared. The surgery was quite a success, however! I woke up, and except for the nearly constant vomiting, I was intact! Only a few poke-holes. The doctor took out about 450 grams of tissue from the fibroids on my uterus. Nearly a pound of flesh! I instantly dropped a dress size (but not exactly the road I would have taken....)

We were in for another surprise, however. While my uterus was now "beautiful" (Doctor's words, not mine), the surgery revealed that I had many, many endometrial adhesions. The doctor removed the ones that he could, but I had some that were encasing my ovaries. Indeed, they had glued my ovaries to the back of my uterus. In addition, I had one falopian tube that was M.I.A. It just sort of trailed up into my intestinal area.... My other fallopian tube, on the other hand, was GREAT! Just not not anywhere near my misplaced ovaries. So we were told that we were going to have to move straight on to IVF.

That was a bigger blow to me than I would have expected.

I know IVF is one of the "last steps" in reproductive technology. I felt like I had suddenly been fast-forwarded past all the other options. Didn't I have a chance at dosing me with clomid? How 'bout an IUI? Really? Straight onto IVF?

I recuperated at home for about 4 days after the surgery. After that, I became too restless. I went into the lab, more for companionship, than to do any real work. I had just made it to the lab and was heartily greeted by a few members. It was nice to get my mind off of everything. I was probably there for 10 minutes before someone wanted to tell me the latest news: our coworker was pregnant!

I don't even know what my reaction was, at least what it looked like on the outside. I know I'm not the first infertile woman to experience the sadness, anger and loneliness of seeing/hearing about other people's pregnancies. I think I feigned happiness and went to look for someplace to sit down.

I stayed around for another half an hour or so. Left the lab and went home and sobbed. I was overcome with sadness.....devoid of hope......bereft.

I stayed that way for the next three months or so while I healed. For the first time I was scared, really scared that we wouldn't be able to have children. I couldn't look at pregnant women. I couldn't go to church, usually my place of solace, without dissolving into tears halfway through the service. My husband tried to help, tried to soothe me, but I was inconsolable. Even though I knew that IVF was still an option, an option that many, many infertile people would love to have, I was in mourning. No longer was I going to have my fantasy of calling up my husband at work and saying "Surprise! We're pregnant!" Or calling up my family and saying, "Well, we were just ready to start a family and then we found out I was pregnant!"

I felt like a part of my privacy had been taken away. What should have been discussed in the bedroom between my husband and I was now in the hands of doctors upon doctors. Our most personal decision was now shared with nurses in scrubs and embryologists.

To be continued...