Friday, May 22, 2009

Resignation

I might just have to come to terms with the fact that I will not be able to get pregnant again. Ever.

That our few moments with Isa and Jovi is all we're going to get. Ever.

And dammit. This is pretty hard to bear right now. Especially when, you know, the world doesn't stop while you need to comprehend and process your own little corner of it, does it? (This post is taking me ages to write because I am working, rescheduling, emailing, pretending to be ok.)

21 days of 8 mg of estrogen daily and what do I have to show for it? An endometrium that is a measly 4.7 mm. Entirely too thin for, for anything. Possible reasons? Microscopic scarring. As my RE explained, a pregnant uterus is incredibly sensitive. To remove living tissue from it in that state could easily result in permanent damage.

Pregnant.
Living Tissue.
Permanent Damage.

And just as I thought that clouds had lifted, that we were getting on with our lives, actually quite well lately, it all comes flooding back. Fuck me, I was pregnant. There were babies inside of my belly. Beautiful ones. I had two daughters. And I may never have the opportunity to try again.

The fact that my RE even felt a need for this follow up ultrasound after a second hysteroscopy should have made me wary. And it did. But maybe I was just so pleased that the first hysteroscopy didn't reveal massive scarring, I let myself get hopeful again. To start thinking about new ob/gyns, unearthing maternity clothes, to contemplate how I would be if I were able to get pregnant again.

Fool.

My RE is great. She really is. And at this point, I am pretty sure I am a research paper waiting to be written, or at least a pet project for her. She must have said ten times yesterday, "I don't give up this easily. There is more we can do." Well, great. In the meantime, I am desolate. Sick of the hypocrisy of organic foods and green living while meanwhile super-sizing my hormone levels and forcing my body to deal with all kinds of artificial junk. Inserted. Ingested. Forced. I am sick of being angry and hurt and hating everybody. I am weary of heavy sleeps and strange dreams filled with distorted bodies and fucked up story lines that leave me unsettled for the rest of the day. Really, really tired of it. My misanthropy is just a few layers below skin on a good day. And today is not a good day.

The only things that kept me from throwing myself on the train tracks yesterday were texts from M and, oddly enough, one of my old posts that I reread as I sniffled to myself on the same seat, in the same station, for almost the same reason, almost a year ago.

I wrote this
just a week before our (successful) FET, when after weeks of everything you are supposed to do and nothing you are not supposed to do landed me an endometrium measuring 6.0. Not as sucky as 4.7, but not far off. Last time, this strategy worked. I am hoping it will again.

So I spend this week ingesting, and now inserting, estrogen into my body and go back next week for a wand redux and pray that there is a notable improvement. From there, I will probably add progesterone to the mix, just as if I was gearing up for a transfer. After a few days, RE will take a swab of my uterus to see if I am "in phase" (if my body and my RE are on the same page as far as where they think I should be in a cycle.)

If I am, then I do believe we aim for a transfer ASAP.

If I am not, well, that's a conversation I don't want to have with myself right now.

M. is my strength. It seems he has already inflicted this self-torture on himself and has landed on the other side. Not easily, not peacefully, but he is definitely at a place right now where I am not. He says we have more than we ever thought possible, meaning, two daughters. I think that and immediately think, yes, two dead daughters and more heartache, self-doubt and questioning of my sanity than I ever, ever, ever thought possible. Yes, this is true.

I have to keep living. I have to hope for the best. I have to get dressed now and put on a face that completely conceals what we have just been talking about right now. Because the world doesn't stop while you need to comprehend and process your own little corner of it. And what's more, for the most part, I think the rest of the world could really give a shit about it.

25 comments:

Duck said...

Being told that you will never ever be pregnant is scarring, and when after lots of estrogen and viagra my lining was 4mm, I was devastated, it is hard to know that you will never ever carry your child, and so I will not sugar coat it. Everyone kept telling me just to take viagra (it did NOTHING to help) and there is no explination for why my lining sucks, just that it does, the end.
I am so sorry you are going through this and I would not wish this on anyone. hugs.

Barbara said...

Shit, I don't want you to have to resign yourself to this... I'm hoping for you.

xxx

angie said...

I wish I could say something profound in this little box. But we both know I can't.

But I can say this: I give a shit. I give a shit if you are sad, or feeling hopeless, distraught, or overwhelmed, or the opposite of all those emotions, in the same day. I do.

And in real life, I would want to pop over to your house with some crunchy spirulina tamari snacks and herbal tea, and bitch about it all with you. I would even want to bitch a little bit about how all the healthy snacks I brought over taste like fish food. With much love.

Smiling said...

i am so so sorry. my heart breaks just reading this. i hope our comments add a bit more 'get-thru-day' power to those texts. i've been living text to text my self this week while i force myself through workdays. take care!

Anonymous said...

I am so sorry you are going through this and I am saying an extra prayer for you. ((hugs))

Bluebird said...

It's not often that I'm at a lack for words. But it seems that I am now. And I hate that. And I hate what you've had to write for leaving me at a lack for words. I just want to yell and curse and scream with you! Want to come visit? ;)

Thank goodness for M. And hoping with all my might that your body gets "in phase" and a transfer is in your future.

Kami said...

After reading the first few lines all I could think was, "What? No way. It can't be. It's not fair."

I don't know what it's like to be you, but I know what it feels like to be on the other side of a dead baby and wonder if it will ever work again. Different scenarios, I know, but I know how much it tore me up and broke me down. I am hoping for a quicker resolution for you - a resolution that includes some younger siblings.

Lori said...

I have no words that will help. Just want you to know that I hear you and sit with you while you bear such a load.

dragonflymama said...

no words. just virtual hugs. and to let you know that here's someone else in the world that gives a shit about all that you are that you are going through.

lostintranslation said...

I'm so sorry you have to deal with all this. Thanks for sharing it with us though. I'm really hoping for you this is not the end - that there will be a silver lining after all... Thinking of you.

Monique said...

There's nothing to say other than what Angie did and that is that I give a shit in this little corner of the world. I'm just so sorry. Much love.

Mick said...

Like the people who commented above, I also give a shit. Having gone through something similar to you, I think I have the right to care.

It really pissed me off when after my son died that the whole world didn't just stop spinning - even for a day.

Life will get better. Even if we find it impossible to believe. And it's people like you who have helped me through the last few months.

I just wish I could do more to show my gratitude...

I think about you both often, even though we've never met. I hope that comforts you in a weird kind of way...

Hang in there.

annacyclopedia said...

I'm another one, quietly giving a shit (sounds dreadful when put that way) and holding you in my heart often, like yesterday when I was listening to that great song you blogged about a while back. So yeah, just abiding with you.

Cara said...

I'm so sorry you find yourself in this limbo between hope and resignation. What a shitty place to be. The only upside to M. having lept over the fence is that he CAN be your strength...

FET Accompli said...

I am sorry that you are dealing with all this. It more than sucks. You are a beautiful writer. I especially pondered the following: "Sick of the hypocrisy of organic foods and green living while meanwhile super-sizing my hormone levels and forcing my body to deal with all kinds of artificial junk."

chicklet said...

Ugh. I'm hopeful this isn't it for you, but I get at some point just feeling like there's not much more you can take, so maybe this isn't meant to be - I'd done that, I went through that grief that maybe for me it'd never happen. I can't say your story will turn out like mine - in an ideal world it would - but I get where you're at, emotionally. There's only so much you can take of this rollercoaster.

Sue said...

What crappy news, and on top of all you've been through already. I'm so sorry. I'm keeping my fingers crossed your lining thickens up and gets you where you need to be.

Mo and Will said...

Oh m. this possibility is heartbreaking. It would be so unfair after everything you have already been through.
Thinking about you. This journey is so difficult. I hope that the "more" that your RE can do does the trick. you deserve to get out the other side of this and be able to carry your baby(ies). You just do.
Mo

Coming2Terms said...

I so understand how hard it is to form the thoughts contained here let alone write them down as you did in this post.

And, yes, there's something so beyond surreal about trying to process what you're trying to process while the rest of the world is oblivious to the heartache raging inside you. You're in my thoughts. Wishing you peace and strength...

nancy said...

You know about my scarred uterus, correct? My second pregnancy FUCKED it up. Badly. I had ~four~ hysteroscopes. In a row. That was a bad year. I started being 70% sealed shut with scar tissue.

Then, for the FET, I was on the daily estrogen. Nothing. So they went to plan B. Put me on femara. Not to grow eggs, but to throw my body into stopping producing estrogen myself. Which fools the body into producing more itself and makes the lining "estrogen hungry". They added in twice weekly HIGH DOSAGE estrogen injections. They added in viagra suppositories 4 times a day to increase blood flow to my girlie organs. After 24 days of all that? lining got to a 7. After throwing EVERYTHING they could to it. A SEVEN. (but I went through it and got karl)

I know when I feel like you do, I don't want people giving me "hopeful" stories. I like to wallow in how I'm feeling and it actually pissed me off when people tried to cheer me up. But I'm not trying to do that. You have the right to feel everything you are feeling. And I'll listen. But I did want to tell you about my own experience with it. And that you may overcome it so when you have the energy again, when you want to start looking at your options, there can be hope.

love ya girl.

~hugs~

musicmakermomma said...

I hope your lining has a huge "puffing out" or whatever linings do...and maybe if this time it doesn't it will next month (or whenever the vast quanities of drugs allow you to re-cycle) I am thinking of you (and your DH and your girls watching on), I hope your RE has some great ideas for getting things going down there. It just isn't fair, but none of it is. Sending good thoughts.

Duck said...

hey,
Hope you are okay.
I deleted my blog - but will continue to read along with you (you know where I am if you ever need me).
Take care

Skerry said...

I've been stalking for a bit as my brain has turned to mush...but I wanted you to know that I continue to keep you and M in my thoughts and prayers.

Kristin said...

I am so very sorry you are facing this possibility. My prayers are with you.

Lisa DG said...

This sucks! I can't believe you have to deal with this. As I sit here in despair and hopelessness, I'd like to say, "don't give up hope- keep holding your dreams." If I were you reading this, I just might respond " shut up."

I'm sorry for what you are going through, but know you are not alone. We're all here for you as you process things in your corner of the world.

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