Thanks everyone for the well wishes. The surgery was a couple of days ago and I'm feeling pretty well.
So here is the rest of the story (or at least as far as I can make it before the pain meds kick into full gear).
After I went to the local hospital about the presumed gall bladder attack where they saw the "really big cyst" (RBC), I went to my RE in the big city hospital (BCH). The people at the RE's office were not terribly impressed with the RBC. They said that it looked like a peritoneal inclusion cyst. Well, the narcotics took effect faster than I thought. Before I fall asleep on the screen of the iPad, I'll have to pick up the story later.
Lilypie Fourth Birthday tickers
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Sunday, February 3, 2013
It's official...I'm having a....
Really big (benign!) cyst removed on Tuesday.
Yeah...good times.
And by really big, I mean 22 cm x 23 cm x 9 cm (or, in inches, 9 x 9 x 3).
This is sort of a weird and interesting story, and one that has thrust my brain and emotions back in to the land of infertility. I think I have worked through most of it, but I thought I would lay in out here to fully flesh out what I am thinking and to share with anyone who comes to this blog.
I started to notice that something didn't feel quite right about a year ago. I had started a semi-regular exercise routine with a good friend. Although I was seeing major improvements in my stamina (when you start at the bottom, you can only go up!), something in my belly just didn't feel right. The feeling was hard to explain. I had a sharp pain in the lower left of my pelvis and a feeling of fullness in my belly in general. It made exercising more and more difficult, particularly the pain in my lower left abdomen. I made an appointment with my primary care doctor.
She sent me out for an ultrasound. The technician was taking a very long time to do the ultrasound. That sent up some red flags on my part. She told me that I had a lot of free fluid in my abdomen and my uterus was really tipped forward. As in, the top of the uterus was pointing to the ceiling when I was lying on my back.
I believe that was on a Thursday in May. The very next day, after I had eaten dinner and gone to bed for the night, I woke up at about 11 pm with an absolutely terrible pain in my abdomen. All I could do was moan pitifully and lie on the couch. At maybe 2 in the morning, I told my husband that we better go to the emergency room. There, they gave me wonderful drugs and started to look for the cause of the pain.
An ultrasound was performed and she also noted a lot of free fluid in my abdomen, she also looked at my gall bladder and saw a very nicely-sized gallstone. The doctors were pretty sure that was the cause of the pain, but decided that they would also perform a cat scan, I remember the doctor filling me in on the results of all my tests and with their recommendations. They consisted of the followig: you should make an appointment with a general surgeon about the gallstone, but for the love of all that is holy, SEE YOUR DOCTOR ABOUT THIS THING IN YOUR BELLY. CALL FIRST THING ON MONDAY MORNING. HOLY SHIT. As you can imagine, I was motivated to see someone.
And I'll leave it for here now. Given that the thought of surgery gives me insomnia, I will likely have time to post over the next few nights. Until then interwebs, I'm off to browse imgur.com!
Yeah...good times.
And by really big, I mean 22 cm x 23 cm x 9 cm (or, in inches, 9 x 9 x 3).
This is sort of a weird and interesting story, and one that has thrust my brain and emotions back in to the land of infertility. I think I have worked through most of it, but I thought I would lay in out here to fully flesh out what I am thinking and to share with anyone who comes to this blog.
I started to notice that something didn't feel quite right about a year ago. I had started a semi-regular exercise routine with a good friend. Although I was seeing major improvements in my stamina (when you start at the bottom, you can only go up!), something in my belly just didn't feel right. The feeling was hard to explain. I had a sharp pain in the lower left of my pelvis and a feeling of fullness in my belly in general. It made exercising more and more difficult, particularly the pain in my lower left abdomen. I made an appointment with my primary care doctor.
She sent me out for an ultrasound. The technician was taking a very long time to do the ultrasound. That sent up some red flags on my part. She told me that I had a lot of free fluid in my abdomen and my uterus was really tipped forward. As in, the top of the uterus was pointing to the ceiling when I was lying on my back.
I believe that was on a Thursday in May. The very next day, after I had eaten dinner and gone to bed for the night, I woke up at about 11 pm with an absolutely terrible pain in my abdomen. All I could do was moan pitifully and lie on the couch. At maybe 2 in the morning, I told my husband that we better go to the emergency room. There, they gave me wonderful drugs and started to look for the cause of the pain.
An ultrasound was performed and she also noted a lot of free fluid in my abdomen, she also looked at my gall bladder and saw a very nicely-sized gallstone. The doctors were pretty sure that was the cause of the pain, but decided that they would also perform a cat scan, I remember the doctor filling me in on the results of all my tests and with their recommendations. They consisted of the followig: you should make an appointment with a general surgeon about the gallstone, but for the love of all that is holy, SEE YOUR DOCTOR ABOUT THIS THING IN YOUR BELLY. CALL FIRST THING ON MONDAY MORNING. HOLY SHIT. As you can imagine, I was motivated to see someone.
And I'll leave it for here now. Given that the thought of surgery gives me insomnia, I will likely have time to post over the next few nights. Until then interwebs, I'm off to browse imgur.com!
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
I love halloween!
Not because of the candy or because of the costumes, but because four years ago today I was officially pregnant. Not that I really was, mind you. The date of retrieval for our donor wasn't until later in November and the transfer 3 days after that. But on all my OB records, the estimated date of conception was 10/31/2008 to conform with the "normal" pregnancy calculators.
Here are my little sprouts at 3 years old, 4 years after "conception."
Here are my little sprouts at 3 years old, 4 years after "conception."
J, as a cow!
A as a cow!
My boys and Daddy at a community safe Halloween...not sure why here was construction equipment there, but they loved it.
My boys are getting so, so big!
Friday, July 27, 2012
A fine line between responsiveness and manipulation
So here I sit on the living room chair at 3:30 in the morning writing a post on my phone.....UGH! So please forgive any typing errors.
I swear, an evil spirit has taken over my kids! Any semblance of control over bed time has absolutely vanished in this house! J and A used to go to bed (or at last play quietly in their room) from about 8:30 or 8:45 until they fell asleep, which could be around 9:30. Now, granted, we have a lot of "get back to bed" conversations during this process (they were allowed 3 each before punishment ensued).
BUT NOW, all holy heck has broken loose! J won't go to sleep unless he can sleep in our bed (he has come in the middle of the night to sleep with us for some time now). Getting up in the middle of the night and requesting milk and to snuggle with us in bed is one thing. Requiring Mom (and ONLY Mom) to lay next to him in bed to FALL asleep is another.
His brother, upon seeing J get to leave the bedroom, has decided that this is extremely unfair (I can't really blame him) and insists on either joining us, or sleeping next to Dad while Dad watches TV or plays a video game. I can't have A join J and me in the bed, as putting those two together when they are tired and grumpy either leads to lots of giggling and wrestling or to crying and kicking. That means that I lay next to J on our bed until he falls asleep (which means I do as well). DH watches TV on the couch with A until he falls asleep. So, DH and I never get to really say more than a few words to each other. I end up going to bed in my jeans and t-shirt without brushing my teeth. And thus, I end up waking up at 3 in the morning to brush teeth, take a shower and get into my pjs.
Ugh, where did my good sleeping boys go? Heck, where did my MODESTLY well sleeping boys go? Poor sleeping around here leads to grumpy kids and grumpy parents. We've tried letting them cry it out, and we have been successful with this method when they were younger. Now, J gets so hysterical if he can't sleep in our bed, that he starts sobbing uncontrollably until he starts hyperventilating and shaking. A will just scream at the top of his lungs for over an hour. That means we can't leave them on the same room right now to fall asleep, because they just whip each other up into such a frenzy. And, because my mother-in-law lives on the bottom floor of our house, we only have two bedrooms upstairs: theirs and ours. We have tried to take the boys downstairs (Grandma graciously offered to try to get one to fall asleep downstairs), but the kid gets so excited about being out of his routine, that he is bouncing off the walls. Last time my mother-in-law had to return her charge at 11:30 because SHE wanted to go to bed, and all J wanted to do was jump up and down on her bed. I think some of this chaos is a result of them trying to transition out of their nap.
But heaven help me, this is just a phase, right? Right?!? I don't think I ever appreciated the fine line parents sometimes have to straddle between helping their kids get through a rough time and being manipulated by them to their own detriment (and ours). Please, oh please, let this be a phase. And let it end soon!! Zzzzzzzz
I swear, an evil spirit has taken over my kids! Any semblance of control over bed time has absolutely vanished in this house! J and A used to go to bed (or at last play quietly in their room) from about 8:30 or 8:45 until they fell asleep, which could be around 9:30. Now, granted, we have a lot of "get back to bed" conversations during this process (they were allowed 3 each before punishment ensued).
BUT NOW, all holy heck has broken loose! J won't go to sleep unless he can sleep in our bed (he has come in the middle of the night to sleep with us for some time now). Getting up in the middle of the night and requesting milk and to snuggle with us in bed is one thing. Requiring Mom (and ONLY Mom) to lay next to him in bed to FALL asleep is another.
His brother, upon seeing J get to leave the bedroom, has decided that this is extremely unfair (I can't really blame him) and insists on either joining us, or sleeping next to Dad while Dad watches TV or plays a video game. I can't have A join J and me in the bed, as putting those two together when they are tired and grumpy either leads to lots of giggling and wrestling or to crying and kicking. That means that I lay next to J on our bed until he falls asleep (which means I do as well). DH watches TV on the couch with A until he falls asleep. So, DH and I never get to really say more than a few words to each other. I end up going to bed in my jeans and t-shirt without brushing my teeth. And thus, I end up waking up at 3 in the morning to brush teeth, take a shower and get into my pjs.
Ugh, where did my good sleeping boys go? Heck, where did my MODESTLY well sleeping boys go? Poor sleeping around here leads to grumpy kids and grumpy parents. We've tried letting them cry it out, and we have been successful with this method when they were younger. Now, J gets so hysterical if he can't sleep in our bed, that he starts sobbing uncontrollably until he starts hyperventilating and shaking. A will just scream at the top of his lungs for over an hour. That means we can't leave them on the same room right now to fall asleep, because they just whip each other up into such a frenzy. And, because my mother-in-law lives on the bottom floor of our house, we only have two bedrooms upstairs: theirs and ours. We have tried to take the boys downstairs (Grandma graciously offered to try to get one to fall asleep downstairs), but the kid gets so excited about being out of his routine, that he is bouncing off the walls. Last time my mother-in-law had to return her charge at 11:30 because SHE wanted to go to bed, and all J wanted to do was jump up and down on her bed. I think some of this chaos is a result of them trying to transition out of their nap.
But heaven help me, this is just a phase, right? Right?!? I don't think I ever appreciated the fine line parents sometimes have to straddle between helping their kids get through a rough time and being manipulated by them to their own detriment (and ours). Please, oh please, let this be a phase. And let it end soon!! Zzzzzzzz
Thursday, July 12, 2012
3 years ago today...
Three years ago today. Wow, three years ago today my sons A and J came into this world. It's a day that utterly and incomprehensibly changed my life for the better. How could have been three years already? And how could it only have been three years?
The boys are so big now. Talking all the time--most of it understandable.
They can do so many things now. Things I love, like singing and asking for what they want. And thinks I don't like so much, like opening the refrigerator door and opening the sliding glass door (including undoing the lock).
Besides the amazing explosion of speech in this past year (they were only saying a couple of words by their 2nd birthday), their empathy for others has increased exponentially. They want their boo-boos kissed and they want to kiss your boo boos as well. A picture of a dinosaur in one of their books may be sad, and I'll ask why: J will answer matter-of-factly, "It's 'cause he misses his Mommy 'n Daddy."
Maybe because they are twins, until recently they seemed to be so aggressively fighting for their independence. Now, they WANT to hold hands with us when we cross the road. Sometimes they get so overcome with joy that they have to spontaneously hug us. My boys have such strong personalities and are so active, that it always seemed like they wanted to run, jump or roughhouse rather than dole out kisses and hugs. Now they find time for both.
I'm so proud of my big boys. I love them so much. No other people on this planet can cause me to swell with such joy when I see them, or lead to such exasperation when they misbehave.
My toe-headded cherub A and my sweet, giggly-boy J, Mommy loves you so very much.
The boys are so big now. Talking all the time--most of it understandable.
They can do so many things now. Things I love, like singing and asking for what they want. And thinks I don't like so much, like opening the refrigerator door and opening the sliding glass door (including undoing the lock).
Besides the amazing explosion of speech in this past year (they were only saying a couple of words by their 2nd birthday), their empathy for others has increased exponentially. They want their boo-boos kissed and they want to kiss your boo boos as well. A picture of a dinosaur in one of their books may be sad, and I'll ask why: J will answer matter-of-factly, "It's 'cause he misses his Mommy 'n Daddy."
Maybe because they are twins, until recently they seemed to be so aggressively fighting for their independence. Now, they WANT to hold hands with us when we cross the road. Sometimes they get so overcome with joy that they have to spontaneously hug us. My boys have such strong personalities and are so active, that it always seemed like they wanted to run, jump or roughhouse rather than dole out kisses and hugs. Now they find time for both.
I'm so proud of my big boys. I love them so much. No other people on this planet can cause me to swell with such joy when I see them, or lead to such exasperation when they misbehave.
My toe-headded cherub A and my sweet, giggly-boy J, Mommy loves you so very much.
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