On my previous Clomid exploits I have always had the evil CloMood Migraine, and if I managed to ovulate I would also get hit with the CloMood Weepies- but something's different this time.
Oh yes, I am now getting the damned CloMood Hot Flashes. Nothing like getting flushed all the time for no reason, or waking up in the middle of the night dripping with sweat- nope, that is just AWESOME.
I wonder if I should be concerned, hopeful, apathetic, etc... about this new side effect. I wonder if it means that something is actually different with how I'm processing it, and if that's good or bad.
All I can muster right now if that I would really really like some ice on my face.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Some things-
The lazy ovaries, the womb of doom, and I are doing well. Just pumping in the progesterone, so that we can get the show on the road. Nope- still not optimistic. Optimism, she died a long time ago with her side kick, Hope.
Many things have come around full circle this week to dissolve me into a puddle of whiny tears. Out damn depression, out I say. It's moments like this week that make me regret the decision to discontinue my anti-depressants. But, I'm sure we'll meet again some day, me and those pills. For now, I think it's more a matter of allowing myself to feel something, instead of keeping it in and trying to be "strong". It is quite the silly thing to do- and I believe the core of my problems. So prepare to be unloaded upon-
The top of my self pity list- is the recent passing of my loss anniversary for number two, my Angel. More than just the loss, is the flash backs of me screaming on the bathroom floor a disheveled mess crying out for it. to. just. stop. for. the. love. of. god. Of seeing that beautiful gestational sac on the ultrasound screen, and then seeing it as it passed during the process. The fact that all this happened- and not hardly a soul cared, or knew. Pain. Contraction. Pain. Depression. Pain. Screaming, and not knowing why. I remember it in snip-its sometimes, even though I don't want to. Driving the car. At work. At home. When I'm in the bath and I look at the floor, the sink I had clung to. It's hard to deal with, those flash backs. I suppose that's why they're flash backs and I don't put the pieces all together at once- because I can't handle them all together at once, not even a year later. Maybe I have PTSD. Rest assured, I am okay. My body and mind are coping well, the flash backs are few and far between. It's just the intensity of them that makes them just so much more awful. I know with time this shall pass- it's been a year already, and I must say it definitely has gotten quite better... until the anniversary. But, it will get better again.
I've also been dealing with the fact that the anniversary of my first miscarriage is approaching too. I really can't believe how naive I was back then- I feel stupid. I had lost innocence with that one, but not hope. Yeah, hope had turned into something else but I hadn't abandoned her completely. I still hoped for the second pregnancy, but of course we know how that ended. With her, I gave up hope in order to save myself.
But I digress- my first miscarriage was hard. Even harder because my grandmother's cancer returned and she died. My last grandparent dead. My first pregnancy over. It was a hard few months-
I recently lost an aunt to cancer too- I'm sure that's not helping anything. My mother has been distant, and this has me worried because of her mental illness. I keep reaching out, but she keeps finding excuses to avoid getting together. I am going to have to impose myself on her soon, and then she'll throw a tantrum and whine to everyone how no one trusts her to take care of herself, how we treat her like she's helpless, and she'll start ranting about everything and everyone and saying we don't care about her, and how she's all alone and blah blah blah. I love my mother, but it's all about her. Always. It comes with her illness. I now accept that, and I cope with it much better now than I ever did. It was hard for the longest time- but now, it's nothing new and I take it all in like a grain of sand. And yes, impose I must. She just lost her sister, and if I leave her alone the fallout will be all that much worse. Better to force her to realize people care about her, than to give her ammo for her tantrum pity party by not being aggressive.
If I ovulate (big IF) this cycle, it will coincide with around when I ovulated with the first miscarriage. I suppose I will worry about this when we get to it, but I am really hoping that if I ovulate I don't end up with another miscarriage. I don't want two miscarriages with almost the exact same loss dates and estimated due dates. That would be awful. I'm not going to worry about it- the likelihood of me ovulating is slim anyway. Pregnancy even slimmer. Just. Not. Thinking. About. It.
I've been worrying about my recent surgery, researching, wondering what this new diagnosis means to me. Hoping I don't have to think about it much more.
I started working the graveyard shift, which is a lot easier and less intense. It gives me time to relax and just do whatever I want... and get paid for it. However, the hours are not what one considers normal. I miss sleeping with my husband, literally. I do catch some zzz's with him, but they aren't like real sleep. When I wake him up he's grouchy because he hasn't slept well himself. It's grating my nerves, getting home from work to come home to a grouchy husband. I know it's just because he's tired, but I can't help but get upset.
Sister-in-law is progressing blissfully in her pregnancy- still so naive. Everyone is happy and excited about the expectation of this second biological grandchild. She updates her FB every week to let everyone know how far along she is. I am happy for her, really- I wouldn't wish the shit I've been through on anyone.
But what I wouldn't give to have what she has right now.
Many things have come around full circle this week to dissolve me into a puddle of whiny tears. Out damn depression, out I say. It's moments like this week that make me regret the decision to discontinue my anti-depressants. But, I'm sure we'll meet again some day, me and those pills. For now, I think it's more a matter of allowing myself to feel something, instead of keeping it in and trying to be "strong". It is quite the silly thing to do- and I believe the core of my problems. So prepare to be unloaded upon-
The top of my self pity list- is the recent passing of my loss anniversary for number two, my Angel. More than just the loss, is the flash backs of me screaming on the bathroom floor a disheveled mess crying out for it. to. just. stop. for. the. love. of. god. Of seeing that beautiful gestational sac on the ultrasound screen, and then seeing it as it passed during the process. The fact that all this happened- and not hardly a soul cared, or knew. Pain. Contraction. Pain. Depression. Pain. Screaming, and not knowing why. I remember it in snip-its sometimes, even though I don't want to. Driving the car. At work. At home. When I'm in the bath and I look at the floor, the sink I had clung to. It's hard to deal with, those flash backs. I suppose that's why they're flash backs and I don't put the pieces all together at once- because I can't handle them all together at once, not even a year later. Maybe I have PTSD. Rest assured, I am okay. My body and mind are coping well, the flash backs are few and far between. It's just the intensity of them that makes them just so much more awful. I know with time this shall pass- it's been a year already, and I must say it definitely has gotten quite better... until the anniversary. But, it will get better again.
I've also been dealing with the fact that the anniversary of my first miscarriage is approaching too. I really can't believe how naive I was back then- I feel stupid. I had lost innocence with that one, but not hope. Yeah, hope had turned into something else but I hadn't abandoned her completely. I still hoped for the second pregnancy, but of course we know how that ended. With her, I gave up hope in order to save myself.
But I digress- my first miscarriage was hard. Even harder because my grandmother's cancer returned and she died. My last grandparent dead. My first pregnancy over. It was a hard few months-
I recently lost an aunt to cancer too- I'm sure that's not helping anything. My mother has been distant, and this has me worried because of her mental illness. I keep reaching out, but she keeps finding excuses to avoid getting together. I am going to have to impose myself on her soon, and then she'll throw a tantrum and whine to everyone how no one trusts her to take care of herself, how we treat her like she's helpless, and she'll start ranting about everything and everyone and saying we don't care about her, and how she's all alone and blah blah blah. I love my mother, but it's all about her. Always. It comes with her illness. I now accept that, and I cope with it much better now than I ever did. It was hard for the longest time- but now, it's nothing new and I take it all in like a grain of sand. And yes, impose I must. She just lost her sister, and if I leave her alone the fallout will be all that much worse. Better to force her to realize people care about her, than to give her ammo for her tantrum pity party by not being aggressive.
If I ovulate (big IF) this cycle, it will coincide with around when I ovulated with the first miscarriage. I suppose I will worry about this when we get to it, but I am really hoping that if I ovulate I don't end up with another miscarriage. I don't want two miscarriages with almost the exact same loss dates and estimated due dates. That would be awful. I'm not going to worry about it- the likelihood of me ovulating is slim anyway. Pregnancy even slimmer. Just. Not. Thinking. About. It.
I've been worrying about my recent surgery, researching, wondering what this new diagnosis means to me. Hoping I don't have to think about it much more.
I started working the graveyard shift, which is a lot easier and less intense. It gives me time to relax and just do whatever I want... and get paid for it. However, the hours are not what one considers normal. I miss sleeping with my husband, literally. I do catch some zzz's with him, but they aren't like real sleep. When I wake him up he's grouchy because he hasn't slept well himself. It's grating my nerves, getting home from work to come home to a grouchy husband. I know it's just because he's tired, but I can't help but get upset.
Sister-in-law is progressing blissfully in her pregnancy- still so naive. Everyone is happy and excited about the expectation of this second biological grandchild. She updates her FB every week to let everyone know how far along she is. I am happy for her, really- I wouldn't wish the shit I've been through on anyone.
But what I wouldn't give to have what she has right now.
Monday, March 15, 2010
post-op and moving on-
We had the post-operative appointment today- so that was good I suppose. We talked more about this elusive septum, and I was able to ask some coherent questions. It's a wonder how much more things make sense when you're not doped up post-operative (hahaha- I know, small wonder).
So, the septum was .5 to 1cm in length actually. And it was resected, not removed. That helped a lot with clarity in and of itself. She explained it to my husband after the surgery, but he didn't understand it and we were all sorts of confused about that. But it's clear now. She doesn't usually recommend re-checking it when it's that small, but said she would be willing to if I desired it. I told her I would pass. We're at the end of our 'trying to conceive' rope, and it's just another expensive invasive procedure I just do not want to bother with. I mean, who's to say I would even ovulate ever again or get pregnant anyway- we're at three years trying and I am pretty much done.
So, then we discussed the game plan coming up. I finished my Estradiol last night, and I'm starting Provera tonight to start a new cycle. I get to keep taking my Metformin, and restart my low-dose aspirin and prenatal vitamins. After this we will be doing Clomid, with Dexamethasone. We agreed to a ultrasound mid-cycle so she can see what exactly is going on, so around cycle day 13 we'll have a look-sie. If things do look good (which I am not counting on) we will trigger. If I ovulate (big 'if') I will start Progesterone supplements again. If I get pregnant (ungh) she is still offering to let me try Lovenox if I want to.
So that's the game plan for certain, and this is me moving forward. Except for not. I'm just going through the motions, with no hopes or desires. I don't really care anymore.
I think the apathy is the worst part of all this these days- this not giving a damn anymore, not having any hopes or desires for my future. Accepting that nothing will ever work out as I plan, and that resistance is futile. I can do nothing more- but I can do a whole hell of a lot less. And I will have to... soon.
_______________________________________________________
My information and website links are still being transferred so I am still not online completely yet. I swear I will be back to commenting soon. It's just taking longer than I expected.
So, the septum was .5 to 1cm in length actually. And it was resected, not removed. That helped a lot with clarity in and of itself. She explained it to my husband after the surgery, but he didn't understand it and we were all sorts of confused about that. But it's clear now. She doesn't usually recommend re-checking it when it's that small, but said she would be willing to if I desired it. I told her I would pass. We're at the end of our 'trying to conceive' rope, and it's just another expensive invasive procedure I just do not want to bother with. I mean, who's to say I would even ovulate ever again or get pregnant anyway- we're at three years trying and I am pretty much done.
So, then we discussed the game plan coming up. I finished my Estradiol last night, and I'm starting Provera tonight to start a new cycle. I get to keep taking my Metformin, and restart my low-dose aspirin and prenatal vitamins. After this we will be doing Clomid, with Dexamethasone. We agreed to a ultrasound mid-cycle so she can see what exactly is going on, so around cycle day 13 we'll have a look-sie. If things do look good (which I am not counting on) we will trigger. If I ovulate (big 'if') I will start Progesterone supplements again. If I get pregnant (ungh) she is still offering to let me try Lovenox if I want to.
So that's the game plan for certain, and this is me moving forward. Except for not. I'm just going through the motions, with no hopes or desires. I don't really care anymore.
I think the apathy is the worst part of all this these days- this not giving a damn anymore, not having any hopes or desires for my future. Accepting that nothing will ever work out as I plan, and that resistance is futile. I can do nothing more- but I can do a whole hell of a lot less. And I will have to... soon.
_______________________________________________________
My information and website links are still being transferred so I am still not online completely yet. I swear I will be back to commenting soon. It's just taking longer than I expected.
Friday, March 12, 2010
A year ago-
It's been a year already since the second miscarriage- how crazy is that?
I still miss her, and all the hopes that died with her. I regret the pain, the suffering I went through with that loss. The weeks of agony after it all crashed down, the physical pain that kept me up all night- six hours of contractions that seemed like they would never stop. Mentally I try not to think about that night, because as obsucure as it is now- that pain is still too vivid, what I went through, how I cried out- too haunting still. It was the pregnancy that made me never want to be pregnant again...
and yet I kept trying. And had another loss- and was so thankful it was so early on, so I wouldn't have to go through that all over again.
No, I don't really look foward to ever getting pregnant again. Not now, nor will I ever. If I do get pregnant, we'll see how it goes- but I refuse to hold my breath ever again.
I won't even count on ever getting pregnant again- since we know what a tall order even that is.
And oddly enough- I do feel better now that I've given up hope.
____________________________________________
Just an FYI: I've been having a lot of computer issues, and ended up having to buy a new computer- so we're in a transition phase. I may not be online commenting or responding so much this weekend as I get all my ducks in a row. Rest assured I will be here off and on, and will return in full force soon enough.
I still miss her, and all the hopes that died with her. I regret the pain, the suffering I went through with that loss. The weeks of agony after it all crashed down, the physical pain that kept me up all night- six hours of contractions that seemed like they would never stop. Mentally I try not to think about that night, because as obsucure as it is now- that pain is still too vivid, what I went through, how I cried out- too haunting still. It was the pregnancy that made me never want to be pregnant again...
and yet I kept trying. And had another loss- and was so thankful it was so early on, so I wouldn't have to go through that all over again.
No, I don't really look foward to ever getting pregnant again. Not now, nor will I ever. If I do get pregnant, we'll see how it goes- but I refuse to hold my breath ever again.
I won't even count on ever getting pregnant again- since we know what a tall order even that is.
And oddly enough- I do feel better now that I've given up hope.
____________________________________________
Just an FYI: I've been having a lot of computer issues, and ended up having to buy a new computer- so we're in a transition phase. I may not be online commenting or responding so much this weekend as I get all my ducks in a row. Rest assured I will be here off and on, and will return in full force soon enough.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
just here-
I was looking at my rap sheet on the forum I frequent- I don't like the story my signature tells. When I look at it, I have trouble believing that was me. I feel like I'm one of those horror stories you read about- and really, how many times am I going to keep falling into the smallest statistics, and not in a good way? I joked with my husband and told him that since I am so good at hitting the low odds, maybe we should start playing the lottery. I'd totally hit that shit- except the reality is that we've never hit the good odds, as it were. Always the unwanted ones.
- April marks three years since we began pursuing our dream of becoming parents.
- In that time I have been diagnosed with PCOS.
- I've had three first-trimester miscarriages.
- Spent two years pursuing fertility treatments.
- Been through two reproductive doctors.
- I've only ovulated six times despite all this.
- Did not respond to Clomid alone, did not respond to Metformin alone- barely responded to the combination of them. Discovered that glucocortoids could help me. We did seven rounds of Clomid after all was said and done.
- Didn't have a very good success rate with injections, even with IUI (Despite A-s super sperm.) Three tries of that.
- Discovered a very mild obscure genetic clotting disorder, which may or may not even be an issue at all.
- Had ovarian drilling to get rid of cysts.
- Discovered an unknown uterine septum, and had it removed.
Is this really my life? I'm only twenty-five. I've just spent pretty much my entire early twenties going through hell- and for what? An unrealized (possibly unrealizable) dream.
I think the combination of my recent surgery, trying again being put on further delay, sister-in-law's recent pregnancy, and the coming anniversary of the second miscarriage (days away now) have all just taken their toll on me.
My healing is progressing well enough- still sore, my uterus is still confused about what it should be doing, and I'm counting down the days till I can talk to my doctor face to face. I have some questions and concerns about the septum, it's removal, etc... just you're run of the mill compulsive analyzing going on here- I'm on a learning spree.
I'm not feeling very hopeful about things though. We're still going ahead and starting to save money for adoption- but we'll see what happens in the mean time.
________________________________________________________
Life hasn't been quite the harbinger of good news I had hoped for lately though-
My aunt passed away Sunday morning- she lost her 9 year battle with cancer. The cancer had spread pretty much everywhere by the time she was diagnosed- they had given her 5 years to live even with treatments. She signed on to a trial with an experimental drug, and it bought her more time and furthered cancer research. My mother and her joined a sister study to try and learn more about why one sister might get breast cancer and the other doesn't.
But last year they discovered a new brain tumor- this one was inoperable, and they said treatment could do nothing more. They made her as comfortable as they could. She couldn't barely walk anymore because of the bone weakness. The brain tumor was taking even more devastating tolls on her health every day. She was getting really bad- and then the massive seizure took her in the early hours of Sunday morning.
I remember when she was first diagnosed and she talked to me about how everyone was treating her different- and I let her know I get it, how you just want people to treat you like everyone else and not as if you are some kind of freak. People who weren't nice to you before, you don't want to suddenly be nice to you now because you've got a personal tragedy brewing- you don't want pity. Understanding, yes. But never pity. I was apparently one of the few who got it- and she let me know she was glad I did.
The last time I saw her, she was frail, her skin sallow, paper thin. Her muscles all weak; she looked like my paternal-grandma before she slipped into her coma after her own cancer returned. My aunt didn't really know who I was, how old I was now- she still thought I was in high school. I couldn't handle it, sitting there with her and my mother- neither of them in their right minds anymore- and I had to leave the room before I started hyperventilating.
__________________________________________________
I'm doing okay, but my poor mother is devastated over this major loss. I don't even know what to say- I personally am just thankful she's no longer suffering. My heart goes out to my aunt's children and grand-children, my aunts and uncles.
Now I have the demand of trying to figure out what to do about my mother though- she had a nervous break down over the loss of her mother, and with her mental illness and lack of coping skills... I worry how she is going to deal with the loss of her sister. I am going to have to make sure I pay even more attention to her.
_________
Life is short- what we do with it, what time we have, passes in the blink of an eye.
And cancer? Cancer is a fucking bitch.
- April marks three years since we began pursuing our dream of becoming parents.
- In that time I have been diagnosed with PCOS.
- I've had three first-trimester miscarriages.
- Spent two years pursuing fertility treatments.
- Been through two reproductive doctors.
- I've only ovulated six times despite all this.
- Did not respond to Clomid alone, did not respond to Metformin alone- barely responded to the combination of them. Discovered that glucocortoids could help me. We did seven rounds of Clomid after all was said and done.
- Didn't have a very good success rate with injections, even with IUI (Despite A-s super sperm.) Three tries of that.
- Discovered a very mild obscure genetic clotting disorder, which may or may not even be an issue at all.
- Had ovarian drilling to get rid of cysts.
- Discovered an unknown uterine septum, and had it removed.
Is this really my life? I'm only twenty-five. I've just spent pretty much my entire early twenties going through hell- and for what? An unrealized (possibly unrealizable) dream.
I think the combination of my recent surgery, trying again being put on further delay, sister-in-law's recent pregnancy, and the coming anniversary of the second miscarriage (days away now) have all just taken their toll on me.
My healing is progressing well enough- still sore, my uterus is still confused about what it should be doing, and I'm counting down the days till I can talk to my doctor face to face. I have some questions and concerns about the septum, it's removal, etc... just you're run of the mill compulsive analyzing going on here- I'm on a learning spree.
I'm not feeling very hopeful about things though. We're still going ahead and starting to save money for adoption- but we'll see what happens in the mean time.
________________________________________________________
Life hasn't been quite the harbinger of good news I had hoped for lately though-
My aunt passed away Sunday morning- she lost her 9 year battle with cancer. The cancer had spread pretty much everywhere by the time she was diagnosed- they had given her 5 years to live even with treatments. She signed on to a trial with an experimental drug, and it bought her more time and furthered cancer research. My mother and her joined a sister study to try and learn more about why one sister might get breast cancer and the other doesn't.
But last year they discovered a new brain tumor- this one was inoperable, and they said treatment could do nothing more. They made her as comfortable as they could. She couldn't barely walk anymore because of the bone weakness. The brain tumor was taking even more devastating tolls on her health every day. She was getting really bad- and then the massive seizure took her in the early hours of Sunday morning.
I remember when she was first diagnosed and she talked to me about how everyone was treating her different- and I let her know I get it, how you just want people to treat you like everyone else and not as if you are some kind of freak. People who weren't nice to you before, you don't want to suddenly be nice to you now because you've got a personal tragedy brewing- you don't want pity. Understanding, yes. But never pity. I was apparently one of the few who got it- and she let me know she was glad I did.
The last time I saw her, she was frail, her skin sallow, paper thin. Her muscles all weak; she looked like my paternal-grandma before she slipped into her coma after her own cancer returned. My aunt didn't really know who I was, how old I was now- she still thought I was in high school. I couldn't handle it, sitting there with her and my mother- neither of them in their right minds anymore- and I had to leave the room before I started hyperventilating.
__________________________________________________
I'm doing okay, but my poor mother is devastated over this major loss. I don't even know what to say- I personally am just thankful she's no longer suffering. My heart goes out to my aunt's children and grand-children, my aunts and uncles.
Now I have the demand of trying to figure out what to do about my mother though- she had a nervous break down over the loss of her mother, and with her mental illness and lack of coping skills... I worry how she is going to deal with the loss of her sister. I am going to have to make sure I pay even more attention to her.
_________
Life is short- what we do with it, what time we have, passes in the blink of an eye.
And cancer? Cancer is a fucking bitch.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
"Consider it lotion for your uterus."-
Words I never thought I'd hear from my doctor. Bwhahaha.
She called me last night to answer my questions about the septum and the estrogen. Yes, the game plan has changed because of the septum removal. She insists that the septum was small, about .5 to .75cm thick stretching from fallopian tube to fallopian tube. I don't know how long it was... She told me the reason they probably didn't notice it before on ultrasound of HSG was because of how small it was. She didn't really sound like she thought it had anything to do with any of my losses, but said it may have but that it was so small she doubted it. But, she said she also wasn't going to leave it in there in case it did. I for one am glad she removed it, because I've been reading that even small ones can cause problems with miscarriages (because of implantation issues, growth restrictions, etc...) and even pre-term labor.
The two weeks of estrogen is to help expedite the healing process. It will re-build the lining and promote healing. She told me to consider it as lotion for my uterus. The last day of my estrogen treatment, I have my post-op appointment (the 15th). At that appointment we will talk more, and I should get the go ahead to start some progesterone to bring on a new cycle. After that, we are hopefully going to be able to go ahead with a Clomid cycle.
So, more waiting for me. It looks like it'll be 3-4 weeks before we get to have another "try" at conceiving... for whatever that's worth.
Feeling a tad better today, but still very uncomfortable. I am still on "relative bedrest" until tomorrow. Then I can get up and around "as tolerated". The pain meds have given me a major case of "the dumb" and I am napping a lot- healing is such hard work, hehe. I can't wait for my incisions to stop bothering me so much, that seems to be the worst part for me.
Will post more as things develop. For now, more healing.
She called me last night to answer my questions about the septum and the estrogen. Yes, the game plan has changed because of the septum removal. She insists that the septum was small, about .5 to .75cm thick stretching from fallopian tube to fallopian tube. I don't know how long it was... She told me the reason they probably didn't notice it before on ultrasound of HSG was because of how small it was. She didn't really sound like she thought it had anything to do with any of my losses, but said it may have but that it was so small she doubted it. But, she said she also wasn't going to leave it in there in case it did. I for one am glad she removed it, because I've been reading that even small ones can cause problems with miscarriages (because of implantation issues, growth restrictions, etc...) and even pre-term labor.
The two weeks of estrogen is to help expedite the healing process. It will re-build the lining and promote healing. She told me to consider it as lotion for my uterus. The last day of my estrogen treatment, I have my post-op appointment (the 15th). At that appointment we will talk more, and I should get the go ahead to start some progesterone to bring on a new cycle. After that, we are hopefully going to be able to go ahead with a Clomid cycle.
So, more waiting for me. It looks like it'll be 3-4 weeks before we get to have another "try" at conceiving... for whatever that's worth.
Feeling a tad better today, but still very uncomfortable. I am still on "relative bedrest" until tomorrow. Then I can get up and around "as tolerated". The pain meds have given me a major case of "the dumb" and I am napping a lot- healing is such hard work, hehe. I can't wait for my incisions to stop bothering me so much, that seems to be the worst part for me.
Will post more as things develop. For now, more healing.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Results and taking it easy-
The surgery went well enough, I suppose. The hospital I went to really gets you in and out- I felt rushed to leave before I was ready. I didn’t appreciate that... also some of the nurses seemed to be getting annoyed with my incoherency. Oh well.
My belly incisions hurt, I ended up with two in total. She spent a few minutes with my husband to let him know what she found, and what she did. He took the best notes that he could, but he didn’t have a clue about what kinds of questions to ask. I suppose I will get some more in-depth information about everything when I call them tomorrow, or when I have my post-op. I have pictures, and they’re really vague but interesting.
So, I don’t know how many holes were drilled, but she took care of the cysts she could see. There were no signs of endometriosis. Tubes are still clear. However, despite ultrasounds and the HSG showing no uterine issues, there was apparently a small septum in there. A- said her exact words were “a little bit of a septum", and she doesn’t know if this septum had any involvement in our miscarriages or if it would cause problems.... but, she removed it to be safe. This truly came as a surprise, and now I am very interested on it’s true size (sorry, “a little bit of a septum” doesn’t cut it for me).
I am assuming the septum removal is why the plans have changed. I am to go ahead and stop the BCP now, and instead start taking Estradiol for two weeks. I don’t know the exact reason why, and am very curious. We should still be doing Clomid and Dexamethasone, but no clue when.
Now I am home, trying to take it easy. Actually, I was told to basically be on bedrest for two days. Oh the joy.
Here's some photos- more of me than you probably want to see! I don't have a scanner, so sorry about the glare because I had to use my camera.
Here are my ovaries before drilling-
Here they are after-
This is my uterus. The top two show the opening to my fallopian tubes. The bottom right photo is where she removed the septum from. I am not sure about the bottom left,I would assume it's before it was removed but I have no clue-
---ETA* I crack myself up right now. I was researching uterine septums, discovered that this is a genetic defect that occurred while I was in-utero. Well, I looked at my husband and laughed. I said, "How about that? I was born with a deviated septum and a uterine septum! Bwhahahahahaha!" See, I was born with a deviated septum too, and had surgery to correct it in 2003. Haha. Probably not as funny as the pain meds made me think it was, but right now it's hilarious!
My belly incisions hurt, I ended up with two in total. She spent a few minutes with my husband to let him know what she found, and what she did. He took the best notes that he could, but he didn’t have a clue about what kinds of questions to ask. I suppose I will get some more in-depth information about everything when I call them tomorrow, or when I have my post-op. I have pictures, and they’re really vague but interesting.
So, I don’t know how many holes were drilled, but she took care of the cysts she could see. There were no signs of endometriosis. Tubes are still clear. However, despite ultrasounds and the HSG showing no uterine issues, there was apparently a small septum in there. A- said her exact words were “a little bit of a septum", and she doesn’t know if this septum had any involvement in our miscarriages or if it would cause problems.... but, she removed it to be safe. This truly came as a surprise, and now I am very interested on it’s true size (sorry, “a little bit of a septum” doesn’t cut it for me).
I am assuming the septum removal is why the plans have changed. I am to go ahead and stop the BCP now, and instead start taking Estradiol for two weeks. I don’t know the exact reason why, and am very curious. We should still be doing Clomid and Dexamethasone, but no clue when.
Now I am home, trying to take it easy. Actually, I was told to basically be on bedrest for two days. Oh the joy.
Here's some photos- more of me than you probably want to see! I don't have a scanner, so sorry about the glare because I had to use my camera.
Here are my ovaries before drilling-
Here they are after-
This is my uterus. The top two show the opening to my fallopian tubes. The bottom right photo is where she removed the septum from. I am not sure about the bottom left,I would assume it's before it was removed but I have no clue-
---ETA* I crack myself up right now. I was researching uterine septums, discovered that this is a genetic defect that occurred while I was in-utero. Well, I looked at my husband and laughed. I said, "How about that? I was born with a deviated septum and a uterine septum! Bwhahahahahaha!" See, I was born with a deviated septum too, and had surgery to correct it in 2003. Haha. Probably not as funny as the pain meds made me think it was, but right now it's hilarious!
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