Friday, August 26, 2011

The good, the bad, the BS

Hmmmm....where to even begin?  The good?  I was finally able to see my RE doctor, Dr. Thomas, whom I love to pieces.  It was nice to talk to her...to a doctor who genuinely cares, and boy did I talk.  As soon as I walked in her office and she asked how I was doing, I lost it.  She said she could tell that, although I looked good, she could see in my face and demeanor that this was hitting me a lot harder.  She has always admired my strength and the ability to "laugh it off," so to speak.  I wasn't that humorous and entertaining on this visit.  A few days after my previous loss of Lily, she was looking on ultrasound for my ovary and I said, "God, did it fall out too?"  She thought that was hilarious and couldn't stop talking about the fact that I was able to find humor through what I was going through.  Guess it's just my way of coping.  It's either that or fall apart and go into a devastating, catatonic depression...I choose laughter.  Well, actually, I choose my babies and to never have been in this position in the first place, but since I am far from having that power, I will go with laughter whenever possible...but don't be fooled.  I am still dying on the inside.

Anyway, this is the good news part, so let's see.  Um.  There is nothing wrong with me that we can figure out. We have ran the gamut of tests available and there is nothing.  My babies have tested normal.  It is a mystery. My losses are also so different that there is no pattern.  Had it been a clotting disorder, then my last pregnancy wouldn't have ended due to a hemorrhage, which is the opposite of clotting, obviously.  The good news is, and this is my doctor's words, not mine:  "Don't take this the wrong way, but it just boils down to...well, REALLY SHITTY luck."  Is that good news?  I  mean, all my tests are normal...most of them look great, actually.  Doug's tests look great.  So we are great, right?  Having nothing wrong should be good news...shouldn't it?  But then, with no answers, there is nothing to treat.  There is no explanation for WHY my babies are gone.  All the questions I had for her - should I have eaten more, should I have exercised and gotten out of bed more, etc. - were all answered.  She assured me, and made me look at her when she said it, that it is NOT my fault or anything I did or didn't do.  She knows that I will still beat myself up that somehow I could or should have done something different, even though I was overly cautious.  I didn't eat sandwich meat or hot dogs, no baths, took my vitamins, switched to organic cleaners....I mean, I did it all.  She let me know how mad she was that this has happened to me again, and I believe her.  She told me that she believes that we aren't given more than we can handle and that is proof that I am "one tough cookie, Girl.  You are stronger than the rest of us...really.  I don't know how you have made it through and handled all this the way you have."  Thanks.  I guess the fact that I get sicker and my pain gets worse with stress helps turn me off of wallowing too much.  If I cry, I get sick to my stomach for days and ensure that I will have a migraine and my pain levels go through the roof as my muscles turn to stone.  Thank you fibromyalgia for teaching me to turn off my emotions and feelings...for helping me learn to go numb and remove myself from my life. In a way, I feel like an outsider looking in.  My pain is just a way of life.  I've just learned to expect it.  Some people may say that I just think negatively and bring it on myself, but actually, I have tried my best to think positively and give the benefit of the doubt, but it doesn't matter.  It keeps happening anyway.  I've just learned to aim low.  That way, I'm not as devastated and disappointed in the end, and so far, it seems to be the right way to handle it because life hasn't raised the "low" bar yet.  If I don't expect much, it won't hurt as bad when I don't get it. When the monsoon of bad luck never ends, well, if I don't dream of being dry and feeling the sun, then it doesn't bother me as much when I stay wet and cold.

OKAY, the good news...the good news.  Having my doctor back really is good news.  I had such a weight lifted just knowing she is back in my life and it felt great talking to her.  I shared some pictures with her and we cried together.  She was really affected by seeing the picture of Hayley and Trevor with the monkey that holds Andrew's ashes.  She has never seen my kids before and between that and the monkey idea, she was overwhelmed.  She has never seen or heard of the stuffed animal urns, and by her reaction, I'm sure many more women are GOING to hear about them, and that's great.  I think they could help a lot more women and families cope.  Being able to hug and hold something soft and lovable, instead of rubbing a cold, hard statue or wooden box...well.  She is so genuine and really cares.  It's like being with a really good friend, who is also a doctor...what could be better than that?  Especially when you are me, with all my weird afflictions and medical maladies! :)

Aside from that, I had a little occurrence (for lack of a better word) yesterday morning. I had a mini-breakdown after dropping the kids off at school.  I was looking at Andrew's pictures, crying, and talking to him.  I don't know if I specifically said it at that time, but I always ask for a sign.  I always ask for a white feather or a butterfly...a sign from above that life goes on and the angels really are there.  A sign that my babies are okay.  I even wrote it in my letter to Andrew that we attached to our balloons to Heaven before we released them.  I went for a walk to clear my head.  It was humid and I was feeling uncomfortable, so was ready to get back home and relax.  I was on my last leg of the walk, coming up to the last corner I would have to turn and I saw something floating down from the sky...a few feet over my head.  The sky about it was bright blue and cloudless, nothing in sight.  It floated straight down as I continued to walk, and I realized as it came to rest on the sidewalk right in front of me that it was a small, quarter-sized, downy white feather.  There were no trees around within several houses.  There was a man standing there, so I just kept walking, never slowing my pace, but the realization hit me.  A smile crept across my face.  The more I thought about it, the more I realized it was a small WHITE FEATHER!  I picked up the pace and decided to go back around the block again.  I hoped it would still be there in 15 minutes when I made my way back around, but knew it wouldn't be.  It wasn't.  Still, it makes me smile and I have to wonder.  I'm not totally convinced, but then again...if we always explain away every sign we are given, we may miss a lot of signs.  Sure, anything can be coincidence, but what if it's not?  Damn...why didn't I just stop and pick it up.  Now that will always bug me.

Okay, now on to the bad news...or at least, the consistently bad news.  When I told Dr. Thomas that I was still bleeding, she took me back for an exam and ultrasound.  She was in awe that no testing had been done thus far to make sure everything was healing properly.  My ovaries looked great, 18 follicles on one ovary!  Too bad I can't take advantage of that.  Instead, there is a thickening in the lining of my uterus, connected to a big feeder vessel...meaning it has a good blood supply.  Obviously, this is why I have been bleeding for 7 weeks now.  It's not a good sign.  More than likely there is something left from the pregnancy.  Funny, didn't Dr. Vu tell me that she was positive there was nothing in there.  She was positive that there wasn't even any reason to do the D&C, which was proven afterwards that there had been nothing left (she was sure to tell us this several times how she was RIGHT).  Now, I may end up having to have ANOTHER D&C.  I am waiting on lab results, which should come in this afternoon, and then we will see where we go from here.  Probably, I will first have to have a small camera inserted into my uterus to look and see what exactly this is.  Then, I may have to take medicine to try and help expel the contents (which sounds easy, but this is me.  I don't do medicine well.  I denied any medication during my delivery even though being induced and being in labor was excruciating, but I prefer the pain over the side effects of the medication....even when I feel I am literally being torn to shreds from head to toe...that's how bad I had medicine).  We may wait until I have a cycle and hope that whatever this is is expelled, but honestly, I'd rather do what we can now to get it over with.  I am so tired of it all...I mean, physically and mentally EXHAUSTED.  I am tired of the constant reminder of what I went through and what I SHOULD be going through.  I am tired of the constant worry and wonder, it's just one thing after another.  I don't want to wait and risk infection or scarring.  It's nice to have a doctor who agrees with me.  All she could do was shake her head at my "shitty luck."  She just couldn't believe how these things just keep happening to me.  It's nice to have that validation.  I hate to say anything about my shitty luck because I don't want people thinking I'm a drama queen or just hyping things up, kind of like how I keep my pain levels a secret.  To have the doctor make the observations without ME saying it...that goes in the GOOD NEWS section.  Funny, the things that put a smile on my face these days.  Some ladies like shoes or purses...I just like validation.




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