The letter...

I went to see my doctor not long after my last blog entry. And my apologies for the time between entries! I’ve a couple of big projects to do and I haven’t been feeling too brilliant – although much better now.

Back to the doctor. She was amazing. I told her how I was feeling and that I wanted to go and see a counsellor. She agreed it would be a really good idea and we worked out who would be best for me to go and see. My doctor also offered to spend time, right there and then, talking about the endometriosis and how I was feeling about it all.

I won’t go into all of it, but she basically validated what I was feeling – which was very important as I now realise. To have someone who doesn’t have a personal link to me (as family and friends do) say that my thoughts and feelings are rational was so comforting – I’m not crazy! At least not on this issue…

My doctor suggested that I write a letter to the IVF clinic that we went to and let it all go. Write exactly what I feel and say exactly what I want to say – let it rip and use all the angry words I want to use without any holding back. And then, if I wanted to later, I could write it in a more appropriate way and actually send it to the IVF clinic manager.

I wrote the letter about a week after seeing my doctor. It was really therapeutic. I started off with my incredibly angry words, and then through the letter ended up claiming myself and my healing back.

I have decided to share the letter with you as it shows the thought process that I went through while writing it – from unbelievable anger at the clinic to claiming my own self again. I have blacked some of the letter out due to the words not being necessarily appropriate!

I will still be writing to the IVF clinic formally and seeing a counsellor, but writing this letter now has been an important and valuable first step in working through these messy emotions.

Stuck...

Frankie's response to my dancing...

I’ve been busy this past week, and I’ve actually enjoyed myself quite a lot – even though most of what I’ve been doing has been housework! It’s amazing what a good music soundtrack can do to make housework more tolerable! Although when I’m dancing around the kitchen with a broom my cat, Frankie, tends to hiss at me – I guess she’s not a fan of my moves…

Kirby and I went to the Adelaide Clipsal V8 Supercars on Saturday and that was awesome. We watched the race and wandered around looking at all the displays of old cars, and new cars (the type that we would never be able to afford!), and taking in the atmosphere. It was very hot! 38 degrees Celsius (around 37 degrees Celsius equals 100 degrees Fahrenheit). But it was great.

So things are going well, except I have a sense of feeling stuck in some areas of my life – particularly in regards to my writing. I want to write, I know what I want to write, but somehow, when I think about it, my anxiety rises. It’s almost like I don’t deserve it…or maybe I’m worried that I will fail at it…I’m not sure.

I’m having a lot of dreams about babies and the other day I said to Kirby that the baby I lost in 1998 (six years before I met Kirby) would have been eighteen this year. I actually said “Hayley would have been eighteen this year.” I’d never called that baby anything…so I don’t know why I’ve called her Hayley now. It was a very early miscarriage and it wasn’t confirmed at all, so there is a chance there was never any baby, but I do believe I was pregnant as my period was three weeks late and was very heavy when it came, and normally, at that time, my cycle was like clockwork.

I’ve still been crying and feeling upset about the whole endometriosis thing and finding myself thinking about that a lot. That’s happening less and less though.

I’m doing okay with the regular, every day things, but I feel as though there is a block which I am stuck behind that is stopping me from getting on with the other things – the things that make me who I really am.

So, I’m going to go see a counsellor.

I’ve gone from being so confused and sad that I know I need to see one, to feeling really good and thinking I don’t really need to see one. To be honest, I’d rather not go. I want to be able to work through all this on my own with the support of my family and friends. But, I can’t.

My family and f

riends are there without a doubt and they can talk to me, support me, and provide endless hugs, but I need to talk to someone who is independent, can assist me in viewing things differently, and can guide me toward regaining my motivation (or perhaps it’s more to do with overcoming anxiety or feeling I deserve to follow some of my dreams regardless of whether I succeed or not).

It’ll be interesting. I’ve seen one counsellor before, but I’m not certain if I should see her again, or whether it would be useful to see someone different for a different perspective. I’ve got three days to think about it!

It will be an interesting journey I’m sure. 

Guilt...

He’s going to say I have nothing to feel guilty about – but I have been feeling guilty lately.

I’ve been feeling guilty since the surgery and when I found out about the endometriosis.

So, it’s true that I may not have had endo back in 2009/2010 when we were doing IVF, and it’s true that even if I did and it was treated it may not have made any difference to me getting pregnant. It is, however, the closest thing to an explanation as to why we couldn’t get pregnant that we have ever had. All we ever got from the IVF clinic was “unexplained fertility”, which left us wondering if the issue was with me, with Kirby, or with both.

It’s not that either of us would have blamed each other – there is no blame.

Well – I know that I wouldn’t have blamed Kirby, and I know that he wouldn’t have blamed me. So, feeling like I do at the moment doesn’t really make sense – but then how often do feelings and thoughts really make sense?

I feel guilty that it seems I was the one who couldn’t bring a baby into our lives and who couldn’t make Kirby a father. He deserves to be a Dad. He should have had a son or daughter to raise and nurture and discipline and be annoyed at some times and love and have fun times with and create memories with. And I couldn’t give him that.

I keep thinking that I should have known endo was a possibility, and that I should have pushed for more tests and investigations. But, how could I know that endo was a possibility if I didn’t even know what endo was?

I asked Kirby the other night if he would still have married me if he knew that I couldn’t have children. I regretted asking the question as soon as I did. I know the answer – he would have. Asking him that question was unkind.

But I keep ruminating about the unfairness that my inept body cannot give him a child. I guess I’m just going to have to sit with that for a while until it passes by. And I hope it does soon.

Our child...

I haven’t written an entry for a while as I’ve been concentrating on getting better, and I’ve also been in a bit of an emotional well and found it hard to write. Though things are improving slowly but surely.

So, on my return to the blog – I present you with a funny story about our nephew.

My mother-in-law was explaining our family tree to our nephew (he is five years old). She started with herself and my father-in-law as Grandma and Pop, and then had two branches down to Kirby and my sister-in-law.

My sister-in-law had a line to her husband (our nephew’s Mum and Dad) and from there a line dropped down to our nephew.

That all made sense to him.

Then my mother-in-law drew a line from Kirby to me (as Uncle and Aunty) and explained that we don’t have any children.

I can imagine my nephew as he stood there, rather indignantly, and stated “They DO have children – they have ME!”

He is a precious, precious little boy and I couldn’t love him more if he was my own son.

It's how I feel...

It’s been just over a week since my day surgery. It went well – except that I ended up staying in hospital overnight as the surgeon had to do a bit more to me than originally anticipated.

It turns out I have endometriosis, so the surgeon cleared that up, my blood pressure dropped, I was in more pain than I certainly anticipated, and I was admitted. Fortunately I only stayed one night and was able to come home. I am so thankful for Ashford Hospital here in South Australia – the best medical care I could have hoped for.

For the first few days I was limited as to what I could do – in other words it was bed or the couch. And the worst was not being able to have my cats on my lap and not being able to pat my dogs or play with them. I’m feeling much better now and slowly being able to do more and more.

At least I’m feeling better physically.

Mentally?

Spiritually?

I’m struggling big time. It changes from day to day – Wednesday was a not so good day, yesterday was a good day, today is a bad day.

It’s not the fact that I’ve had an operation that has forever taken the choice of trying for a baby again away from me (which is something I have accepted). The reason I am struggling is that I have endometriosis and despite going through IVF and seeing a gynaecologist back around that time with symptoms associated with endometriosis (like infertility – duh!) nobody even bothered to investigate it as a possibility.

If they had – if they only had – it might have been addressed and we might have our child here with us right now. I am really struggling to come to terms with this.

I know that there is a possibility that I still wouldn’t have become pregnant, but the fact that further investigation was not done at the time is just beyond my comprehension. Why didn’t they check? I had the fatigue, I had the pain in my abdomen and lower back, I had the painful period cramp, I had had miscarriages, and I damn well couldn’t have a baby. What went wrong? You know I even recall them saying that I didn’t have it as they couldn’t see it on any scans – well guess what – the only way to truly know if someone has it is to do a laparoscopy (like I had last Thursday).

I am so furious. I have tried not to be angry and to “let it go” knowing nothing will change, but that isn’t working so much and I feel like I am being eaten up inside.  Instead I am going to let the anger and grief and whatever other emotions occur have their space, and deal with them instead of trying to bottle them up. I will cry, rage, talk, meditate, just “be” out in nature, play with my dogs, hug my nephew, throw tantrums, consider how blessed I am, tell Kirby I love him, and swear my head off.

But I’m not going to pretend I’m fine.

That would be a lie – because I’m not.

One thing that I know will help me now is to say this to you who are having trouble having a baby – if you even remotely suspect that you have endometriosis, stand up for yourself and demand that it be investigated. And don’t let them put you off by saying your scans don’t show any signs of it – insist on a laparoscopy.

And please, please, please – if you do go through the tests and find you do have endometriosis, and it is treated, and you end up with that miracle in your arms – please let me know. It would help to mend my heart to know that something good might come from sharing my experience with you. And photos too please! Lots of photos!

My love, as always, to all my readers, and thank you for your endless support.

PMS...

I haven’t written an entry for a while. I had an editing job come through that has taken up a lot of time (lucky I enjoy it!), and I’ve been tired…

And I’ve also had a case of PMS – otherwise known as “Poor Me Syndrome”.

I have been feeling down, feeling that the world is unfair, that nobody likes me – everybody hates me, that the problems of the world are unfixable, that the human race is doomed so why bother trying, etc. etc. Basically I’ve been in a place that everybody in the world finds themselves at one time or another.

I’ve now kicked my own butt and I’m feeling much more positive.

So – what’s happening at the moment?

Next Thursday I’m headed into hospital for day surgery. As my regular readers will know I have had trouble with heavy bleeding every month that has led to me having anaemia. I tried a hormonal thing that didn’t go well and was then referred to a gynaecologist. I saw the brilliant Dr Singla just before Christmas and was given some options to think about and talk about with Kirby.

I will be having a uterine ablation and a bilateral tubal ligation, which hopefully will really help with the bleeding, and thus the tiredness, and thus me being able to live the life I want to.

I’m really excited about how I may very well be after the surgery. I have plans of what I’m going to be doing (I will be easing into things slowly though) including starting Aikido, resuming bike riding, and doing more sewing.

But, I’m nervous as anything about the surgery (especially the anaesthesia). I’ve been under anaesthesia before, but the last time I was under the full one was when I was sixteen. I’ve only been under light general anaesthesia since then (once to remove a ganglion from my wrist and the other times for egg collection during IVF).

I guess it’s normal to be nervous. There are things that can happen under anaesthetic – but then there are things that can happen just by crossing the road too.

But, I cross the road a lot – I don’t go under anaesthesia that often (thankfully!).

Well – if you, my lovely readers, could send me positive vibes across the air waves on Thursday that would be brilliant, and I’ll let you know how it all goes.

Friends...

We recently went to visit some friends who have a new baby boy. He is beautiful and already knows how to do fist bumps so obviously he is very gifted!

I loved giving him a big cuddle and I tried to sneak him away so we could keep him, but our friends know where we live so I don’t think we would have gotten away with it…

This entire entry could be just about him, but there is something else I want to write about.

I was holding this amazing child, feeding him with his bottle, and burping him, and we were all talking about him and how he and they were going, and his Dad suggested that he (not the baby) might try out the tummy time cushion we had given them (would have made an interesting sight – a grown man, tummy down, on a cushion for a little baby!)

Then they asked us how we were going, and about our dogs, and about many other things that were going on in our lives.

What they didn’t know was that on the way to their place Kirby pulled over to the side of the road as I was crying (mostly because of the hormonal effects of the Mirena) and feeling like my life was worthless. Kirby suggested we put off visiting our friends, but I said no because I really wanted to see them. I was grateful to Kirby for offering an out if I needed it – he is so understanding.

So, in asking us the questions they did I was given a great big validation that our lives are interesting and that our friends care about us and what we are doing too.

Focussing on a newborn baby is absolutely normal and understandable, and should the conversation have been completely about them and their baby I would have understood. But it was a precious gift to have our friends being genuinely interested in our lives.

Sometimes I feel like our lives are not as important as those of people who have children – not because of anything any one says or does really, but because of my own thoughts.

The gift our friends gave us that day pushed those feelings aside and have actually made me relook at my life and see that what I do is worthwhile in a different way to what it would be if I was raising a child.

I do feel like I’ve rambled in this entry – it’s harder than I thought to express my thoughts and feelings about what happened. So I’ll leave it at this.

Thank you to our beautiful friends, and isn't their baby gorgeous!!

I didn't want to give him back!!