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.


Celia said...

I hate cancer. I miss my grandma. I am sorry you lost your aunt, and I am feeling for you since I know patching up your Mom will be exhausting. When grandma died, my husband had to keep dragging me out of the house while I chanted " be kind your mother just lost her mother" to keep from slapping her.

Bluebird said...

I'm so sorry about your aunt. How heartbreaking to have to watch and experience. I'll be thinking of you as you deal with your own grief and try to help hold your mother together.

And I get what you're saying about the rap sheet. Which is not to suggest that mine is anything in comparison! But I have sat and looked at the odds of what I've experienced and wondered why I haven't won the lottery yet ;)

Thinking of you honey. Hope you continue to recover and that your doctor has some answers for you.

Adventures in Baby Waiting said...

All I can think to say is that I am so sorry. I'm so sorry for all you have been through and for the loss of your Aunt.

Jessi Wallace said...

I'm sorry to hear of the passing of your aunt. I can relate... same kind of story... my Grandmother first got diagnosed with breast cancer on her 40th wedding anniversary of all days... they chased it all over her body for about 10 years before it also ended in her brain and she died in a nursing home, unable to speak. We didn't even know if she knew who we were anymore. The first time I saw her in the nursing home, with that blank look on her face, I fainted. Literally. I am glad she's not suffering anymore. Cancer is a horrible thing and sometimes I wonder who it's worse on... the person carrying the disease or the family and friends who feel so helpless as they watch someone they love deteriorate before their very eyes for years and years. I hope your family finds peace during this time. And you're absolutely right--she's not suffering, that is something to celebrate!

CeCe said...

You have been through a lot. It doesn't seem fair. My thoughts are with you!

Kristin said...

Cancer is a royal BITCH...no doubt about it. I am so sorry for the loss of your aunt.

And, the combination of the clotting disorder and the septum probably had quite a bit to do with your early miscarriages.

Flying Monkeys said...

I'm sorry about the loss of your aunt. Mine passed this summer. Her oncologist left the country without giving her the complete aftercare instructions, referring her to another doctor or telling her for that matter. She thought she was done with her meds per the instructions she had, but when she started feeling worse and her joints hurt her her primary doctor told her it couldn't be cancer it was arthritis. It wasn't. The cancer had spread to her bones and part of her pain was caused from walking around on a broken hip. By the time they got an ER doctor to order the CAT scan there was little they could do. Cancer scares me. I have many risk factors for several types.

I hope the septum removal does more than they think it will. I had a 1cm polyp once (I've had several since) and they said it could be causing implantation issues. In my mind it's not that difficult to make the leap to a septum having an effect too.

Rap sheets, too many of us have them.

Michelle said...

I would not even want to look at all my info. I hesitate to put it all down because it would depress me to NO end!

I am so sorry to hear about your Aunt. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family!

WiseGuy said...

Cancer. It's evil. And I have seen people snatched by its clutch.

I am really worried about the stress that is getting added to your life by taking care of your mother. I know that it is the right thing to do, but with the bumpy ride you are having, the stress is huge anyways.

I hope your mother will be able to tide over.

May your aunt rest in peace.

The 'statistics' reveal nothing and almost-everything. What an irony.