As for my infertility, I prayed, I tried to talk with doctors, I cried, I railed at God! My whole life I had wanted babies!
I wanted my belly to swell, ‘big with child.’ To feel a life inside me moving, to go through labor and delivery, to bring forth a life to suckle at my breast was all I ever had wanted.
Over time I became resentful of pregnant women. Even with my best friends, I could hardly stand to be near pregnant women. I distanced myself from what I could not have.
I was talking with a couple of friends one day when they both began talking about ‘End Times for Christians.” I had never heard of such a thing. They explained that the godless heathens would take over the world and Christians would be put to the knife.
Christian children would be wrenched from their parents to be raised in a world without God. And women who had adopted would not feel the same gut-wrenching pain of the women who had birthed their children. (This happened right after we applied to adopt.)
I stood and in real anger told them they had no right to make sweeping generalizations about adoptive parents. Two of my cousins were adopted and they were as loved as those of us who were born into the family. And I knew in my heart that any child I adopted would be as much loved and cherished as one I had bore. After all, I loved their children as much as I loved my niece and nephew. I had spent more time with their children than I had with my niece and nephew. How dare they?
It took time to heal our disagreement. It was one of those two women who found our daughter, Selene, for us.
I was told by ‘a well-meaning Christian man’ that I was praying for the wrong thing. Huh? Please explain. I am praying to be blessed with a child. You think I should be praying for God to give me another dog or cat?
After Selene came to us, I still felt like other women saw me as a second-class mother; especially when I pulled out a bottle to feed her. They would gasp and turn away, “She’s not nursing.” We tried, I just wasn’t producing milk.
I still couldn’t stand pregnant women. When my sister, Debbie, was pregnant with both her daughters, I kept my distance. I just couldn’t bear to be near her. After the babies were born, it was another story.
When Selene became pregnant with Lennon I wanted to experience her pregnancy with her. But my depression got in the way; as well as her pregnancy hormones. She and my cousin Nancy are the only pregnant women I have ever felt comfortable around.
So, that’s my story. The real lesson I want my readers to learn is this: If a teenage girl is complaining of horrible cramps have her examined by a doctor. Endometriosis is most treatable in its early stages. Don’t let another woman go through the emotional trauma and physical pain of infertility.
Showing posts with label infertility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label infertility. Show all posts
Monday, February 8, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Cramps + Infertility = Endemetriosis Part 3
A couple of day later, the doctor gave me my options. I thought very hard about the reconstructive surgery but the prospect of no longer having any more pain won out. I decided on the hysterectomy and oophorectomy.
The GYN told me I would not miss my periods but I would experience changed orgasms. Okay, let’s get that puppy out!
Scott had asked me to wait until his vacation, the first two weeks in July, so he would be available to help me out. So, I waited six months for the surgery. Every day was pain, bloating, and very uncomfortable.
I remember the aftermath of the surgery as though it was yesterday. I woke and there was no pain. The day after the nurse sat me in a chair while she changed the bed. In the middle of this she apologized for forgetting my pain shot. I said, “I’m not in pain. For the first time in years there’s no pain. Just soreness along the incision.”
My primary care doctor came in and sat down. He apologized for not hearing me when I said I was in pain. (I am just too quiet and don’t always force medical personnel to pay attention to my problems. This would explain why no one had helped me before the GYN.) He explained I had lost about a pint of blood and would feel weak for a while, but that was normal. He then promised to listen more carefully to me in the future. (And he did, I saw him for a total of 30 years before we had to change insurance programs and go with an HMO.)
I had my first hot flash 48 hours after the surgery while walking the hospital corridors with Scott and Selene. The only real pain I had was from my bowels beginning to work again. That gas was so severe I would pace the entire hospital, go back to my room, and be thankful I didn’t have a roommate. My nurses brought me prune juice at least three times a day.
When I got home, I began to feel better fast. Of course it didn’t help that Scott’s project while I was recuperating was to gut the bathroom and start over. We had a half bath where I took sponge baths. My savior was my friend Kathi who would pick me up every other day and allow me to shower at her house. Heaven on a stick!
When I went back to the GYN for a checkup, he was called out of the room. I went through my file and found a picture of my uterus, fallopian tubes, and ovaries. They were so miss shaped. I could see the many tumors and cysts that were in my uterus and all over my ovaries. The tissue removed weighed 17 pounds! The doctor thought I would be shocked but no, I was more curious than anything else. He explained that he had had to scrap endometrial tissue from all over my abdominal cavity. I had one of the worst cases of endometriosis he had ever seen.
Well, here I was, no more pain, no more PMS, no more orgasm. Yeah, I thought he said, “A change in orgasms.” So I went back. Plus, I had lost interest in sex completely. He tried hormone therapy. Still nothing. It was about a year after the surgery that the GYN moved away. When I went to my primary physician with my libido problems he said sometimes watching porn helps. Well, uh, I love my husband and I really do want to participate; yeah, I’ll give it a try. It worked and what is what counts. Eventually I began to respond without the porn and things got back to pretty much normal. By the way, a woman’s uterus is a significant factor in her orgasm. Removing it changes her orgasm and it does take time for her to get used to these very different feelings.
Throughout this whole story I cannot tell you the emotional duress I had. During the cramping I would sob and cry out to God to let me pass out so I would not have to endure the pain! I would pray as to why I had to suffer. I saw my mother, my friends going about their daily business and yet I was bedridden every month for 12 to 24 hour! Why?
“What was the pain like,” you may ask? As I have found out from my friends, my cramps were as bad as labor. When Scott passed a couple of kidney stones his doctor explained that his pain was akin to tabor. A few years after that, I passed a gallstone. We got to talking about the pain and I explained that the gallstone was no more painful than my cramps. That stopped Scott in his tracks. The only difference between the gallstone and cramps was I knew the cramps would eventually end.
In the next and last installment, I will document my emotions during the 15 years of infertility.
The GYN told me I would not miss my periods but I would experience changed orgasms. Okay, let’s get that puppy out!
Scott had asked me to wait until his vacation, the first two weeks in July, so he would be available to help me out. So, I waited six months for the surgery. Every day was pain, bloating, and very uncomfortable.
I remember the aftermath of the surgery as though it was yesterday. I woke and there was no pain. The day after the nurse sat me in a chair while she changed the bed. In the middle of this she apologized for forgetting my pain shot. I said, “I’m not in pain. For the first time in years there’s no pain. Just soreness along the incision.”
My primary care doctor came in and sat down. He apologized for not hearing me when I said I was in pain. (I am just too quiet and don’t always force medical personnel to pay attention to my problems. This would explain why no one had helped me before the GYN.) He explained I had lost about a pint of blood and would feel weak for a while, but that was normal. He then promised to listen more carefully to me in the future. (And he did, I saw him for a total of 30 years before we had to change insurance programs and go with an HMO.)
I had my first hot flash 48 hours after the surgery while walking the hospital corridors with Scott and Selene. The only real pain I had was from my bowels beginning to work again. That gas was so severe I would pace the entire hospital, go back to my room, and be thankful I didn’t have a roommate. My nurses brought me prune juice at least three times a day.
When I got home, I began to feel better fast. Of course it didn’t help that Scott’s project while I was recuperating was to gut the bathroom and start over. We had a half bath where I took sponge baths. My savior was my friend Kathi who would pick me up every other day and allow me to shower at her house. Heaven on a stick!
When I went back to the GYN for a checkup, he was called out of the room. I went through my file and found a picture of my uterus, fallopian tubes, and ovaries. They were so miss shaped. I could see the many tumors and cysts that were in my uterus and all over my ovaries. The tissue removed weighed 17 pounds! The doctor thought I would be shocked but no, I was more curious than anything else. He explained that he had had to scrap endometrial tissue from all over my abdominal cavity. I had one of the worst cases of endometriosis he had ever seen.
Well, here I was, no more pain, no more PMS, no more orgasm. Yeah, I thought he said, “A change in orgasms.” So I went back. Plus, I had lost interest in sex completely. He tried hormone therapy. Still nothing. It was about a year after the surgery that the GYN moved away. When I went to my primary physician with my libido problems he said sometimes watching porn helps. Well, uh, I love my husband and I really do want to participate; yeah, I’ll give it a try. It worked and what is what counts. Eventually I began to respond without the porn and things got back to pretty much normal. By the way, a woman’s uterus is a significant factor in her orgasm. Removing it changes her orgasm and it does take time for her to get used to these very different feelings.
Throughout this whole story I cannot tell you the emotional duress I had. During the cramping I would sob and cry out to God to let me pass out so I would not have to endure the pain! I would pray as to why I had to suffer. I saw my mother, my friends going about their daily business and yet I was bedridden every month for 12 to 24 hour! Why?
“What was the pain like,” you may ask? As I have found out from my friends, my cramps were as bad as labor. When Scott passed a couple of kidney stones his doctor explained that his pain was akin to tabor. A few years after that, I passed a gallstone. We got to talking about the pain and I explained that the gallstone was no more painful than my cramps. That stopped Scott in his tracks. The only difference between the gallstone and cramps was I knew the cramps would eventually end.
In the next and last installment, I will document my emotions during the 15 years of infertility.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Cramps + Infertility = Endemetriosis Part 2
I didn’t get pregnant. I couldn’t understand why. The little town we lived in, just inland on the south Oregon coast, had three doctors. All were aged. When I asked about my inability to get pregnant they all said I just needed to relax. Yeah, right.
One evening after dinner, we had been married for about 2½ years; the cramps came on hard and furious. I asked Scott to take me to the emergency room in the closest hospital about 20 minutes away. By the time we got there I was in such pain I could hardly walk.
The admitting clerk put me into a wheelchair and took me down to the ER. A nurse came in to check me out before calling the doctor. (Way back when, small community hospitals did not have anyone staffing the ER. Rather, a floor nurse would be ‘on call’ for the ER and the doctor ‘on call’ would come in only if needed.) Almost as soon as she began to take my information, I told her I had to vomit. She handed me an emesis basin. I handed it back. She gave me a huge, battered tub. I used it.
By the time the doctor arrived I was beginning to swoon. I couldn’t keep the room from spinning and I was ‘dry heaving.’ Once up in the stirrups and examined, he had the nurse give me a shot of pain killer and something to stop the vomiting.
Afterwards, when I could finally focus, he explained that I was just having exceptionally bad cramps and needed to have narcotic pain relievers around for the pain. I asked if I had had a miscarriage, since the pain was so intense so quickly. He said, “No, it is just cramping. Come see me week after next.” I saw this, just out of medical school, doctor a couple of times before we moved back home to the Willamette Valley.
Once home again, I went back to the clinic where I had been going since before birth. A new set of doctors were available. I preferred a couple of younger doctors who seemed to be quite thoughtful and helpful. But, again they didn’t really treat me for the cramps, other than more codeine. Nor did they ever address my desire for children.
In the meantime we had just celebrated our 9th anniversary. We had applied to the state to adopt the year before. Then I broke my arm. I contacted the social worker nearly every week; I never heard back from her. We were anxious and getting upset. Finally, she called to say she didn’t have a child for us but please, please be patient. I t had been over a year now and we were getting restless.
Because I couldn’t get into the clinic to see anyone when I really needed to, I called a new doctor in town. He could see right then. I liked his manner and concern over my non-reproductive problem so I started seeing him for my primary doctor.
I told this new doctor about me cramps and again more codeine. Believe me I was really beginning to get desperate about the pain. My periods were no longer regular. I had always had ‘heavy’ periods but now they were gushing and completely unpredictable.
We were able to have a private adoption. Our new baby arrived in mid-April 1980. I ignored my problems and doted on her.
In ’83 we took a family trip to Anaheim. While at the Movieland Wax Museum, Selene needed to use the restroom. While in the restroom I noticed I had begun my period and was covered in blood. We went back to the motel where I showered and changed. Luckily I had some codeine with me. I used two extra absorbent tampons and an extra absorbent pad while we toured Knott’s Berry Farm. I changed the tampons twice during our visit. The next day, I was so wacked out on codeine I just followed Scott and Selene and tried not to act like a drunk.
In 1984 a GYN-OB moved to town. I had never seen a gynecologist before. For 10 years I had been trying to find one in Salem but they were never taking new patients that weren’t pregnant. I would explain I was having severe cramping and bleeding with each period and get told my primary care physician had to refer me but they had no openings anyway.
I don’t remember whether it was my primary doctor or the GYN who sent me in for an ultrasound. The tech called in the radiologist to do the ultrasound as she was having problems. The doctor found my right ovary where my uterus should have been. My uterus was clear over on the left side of my body with the left ovary twisted up behind it.
I do remember seeing this new doctor and telling, in detail my problems. He scheduled a laparoscopy. When I woke from the anesthesia the nurse called the doctor to come in from his office. He told me I had severe endometriosis. And with the flopped over uterus, which would require reconstructive surgery I had less than a 10% chance of conceiving. This was due to the scarring from the tumors and cysts.
I cried. The doctor gave me something that knocked me out. During the laparoscopy there had been a problem and he had to leave the air running to keep my abdomen inflated. That extra gas would bump up against my diaphragm and cause extreme pain. I went home later in the evening and lay on the couch for several days until the air had been absorbed by my blood and gut. I was not the most pleasant person to be around while I expelled that extra gas.
Sorry to leave this on such an 'airy' note. Tune in tomorrow for what happened after the laparoscopy.
One evening after dinner, we had been married for about 2½ years; the cramps came on hard and furious. I asked Scott to take me to the emergency room in the closest hospital about 20 minutes away. By the time we got there I was in such pain I could hardly walk.
The admitting clerk put me into a wheelchair and took me down to the ER. A nurse came in to check me out before calling the doctor. (Way back when, small community hospitals did not have anyone staffing the ER. Rather, a floor nurse would be ‘on call’ for the ER and the doctor ‘on call’ would come in only if needed.) Almost as soon as she began to take my information, I told her I had to vomit. She handed me an emesis basin. I handed it back. She gave me a huge, battered tub. I used it.
By the time the doctor arrived I was beginning to swoon. I couldn’t keep the room from spinning and I was ‘dry heaving.’ Once up in the stirrups and examined, he had the nurse give me a shot of pain killer and something to stop the vomiting.
Afterwards, when I could finally focus, he explained that I was just having exceptionally bad cramps and needed to have narcotic pain relievers around for the pain. I asked if I had had a miscarriage, since the pain was so intense so quickly. He said, “No, it is just cramping. Come see me week after next.” I saw this, just out of medical school, doctor a couple of times before we moved back home to the Willamette Valley.
Once home again, I went back to the clinic where I had been going since before birth. A new set of doctors were available. I preferred a couple of younger doctors who seemed to be quite thoughtful and helpful. But, again they didn’t really treat me for the cramps, other than more codeine. Nor did they ever address my desire for children.
In the meantime we had just celebrated our 9th anniversary. We had applied to the state to adopt the year before. Then I broke my arm. I contacted the social worker nearly every week; I never heard back from her. We were anxious and getting upset. Finally, she called to say she didn’t have a child for us but please, please be patient. I t had been over a year now and we were getting restless.
Because I couldn’t get into the clinic to see anyone when I really needed to, I called a new doctor in town. He could see right then. I liked his manner and concern over my non-reproductive problem so I started seeing him for my primary doctor.
I told this new doctor about me cramps and again more codeine. Believe me I was really beginning to get desperate about the pain. My periods were no longer regular. I had always had ‘heavy’ periods but now they were gushing and completely unpredictable.
We were able to have a private adoption. Our new baby arrived in mid-April 1980. I ignored my problems and doted on her.
In ’83 we took a family trip to Anaheim. While at the Movieland Wax Museum, Selene needed to use the restroom. While in the restroom I noticed I had begun my period and was covered in blood. We went back to the motel where I showered and changed. Luckily I had some codeine with me. I used two extra absorbent tampons and an extra absorbent pad while we toured Knott’s Berry Farm. I changed the tampons twice during our visit. The next day, I was so wacked out on codeine I just followed Scott and Selene and tried not to act like a drunk.
In 1984 a GYN-OB moved to town. I had never seen a gynecologist before. For 10 years I had been trying to find one in Salem but they were never taking new patients that weren’t pregnant. I would explain I was having severe cramping and bleeding with each period and get told my primary care physician had to refer me but they had no openings anyway.
I don’t remember whether it was my primary doctor or the GYN who sent me in for an ultrasound. The tech called in the radiologist to do the ultrasound as she was having problems. The doctor found my right ovary where my uterus should have been. My uterus was clear over on the left side of my body with the left ovary twisted up behind it.
I do remember seeing this new doctor and telling, in detail my problems. He scheduled a laparoscopy. When I woke from the anesthesia the nurse called the doctor to come in from his office. He told me I had severe endometriosis. And with the flopped over uterus, which would require reconstructive surgery I had less than a 10% chance of conceiving. This was due to the scarring from the tumors and cysts.
I cried. The doctor gave me something that knocked me out. During the laparoscopy there had been a problem and he had to leave the air running to keep my abdomen inflated. That extra gas would bump up against my diaphragm and cause extreme pain. I went home later in the evening and lay on the couch for several days until the air had been absorbed by my blood and gut. I was not the most pleasant person to be around while I expelled that extra gas.
Sorry to leave this on such an 'airy' note. Tune in tomorrow for what happened after the laparoscopy.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Cramps + Infertility = Endemetriosis Part 1
I want to address my inability to bear children and subsequent hysterectomy with oophorectomy.
About six months before the onset of my periods I was having low gut pain. Mom took me to the doctor and he thought the problem was intestinal. He put me on some pills that turned my poop green and called it good.
My first period began on my 12th birthday. Happy Womanhood! From what I had read in the ‘Red Book’ Mom had given me, I knew that sometimes women had pain with their periods. Well, that was the cause for the strange pain I had been having. I guess I could live with that.
In the next few months the menstrual pain went from uncomfortable to horrendous. Mom gave me hot water bottles and aspirin. Occasionally, she would call the doctor and I would get codeine. Mostly, just aspirin and Midol; when Pamprin came on the market I would rotate the three for relief.
The pain would wake me from a sound sleep. I went downstairs to get the hot water bottle and Dad woke up to see if I was okay. When he heard “cramps” he would get Mom. She finally told him that I knew what to do and there was nothing she could do to help me. He asked if the doctor could prescribe more codeine. Mom told him, and I heard, that the doctor just thought I was being dramatic and the pain wasn’t really that bad.
I missed at least one day of school every month. The pain was overpowering. I remember in high school when the principal or vice principal would corner me for going home early or missing a day. I was so shy I couldn’t say, “Look I have cramps and they are killing me.” My PE teachers were very understanding to the point to showing me exercises that were supposed to help. They never did.
When I was about 16 I overheard my mother talking to a friend about the amount of pads we went through each month. She was saying that with two menstruating daughters we were going through a giant box of pads every month. And when the next two started, she was sure it would be two giant boxes!
Her friend thought maybe we were changing pads too often. Mom agreed to a point but was concerned about how heavy and long my flow was. My doctor had told her not to worry, flows of up to 7 – 8 days could be considered normal.
All I know is by 8th grade I was slipping into the restroom between classes to change pads after every class for the first three days of my period. Some of my friends had heavy flows as well; so I didn’t worry. And Betty Jo‘s cramps were worse than mine, so maybe it wasn’t that bad after all.
I left for the University of Oregon after high school. In the early spring I came down with a fever, vomiting and cramps. My friends took me to the campus medical clinic where I was admitted. The doctor ‘on call’ was a pediatrician. When he examined me he found this tiny little scar on my lower right abdomen. He asked about it and I explained that it was a ‘bikini cut’ appendectomy scar. Well, this guy was ready to perform an appendectomy and now he couldn’t. I explained I was having cramps with the ‘flu’. he had the nurse give me a mild pain killer and left. For the next 36 hours I lay in the clinic having cramps with no relief. Yes, I was pissed.
When I began taking birth control pills, at 19, the pain lessened. I threw up three to five mornings a month but the pain was tolerable.
After Scott and I had been married two months I went off the pill. I just couldn’t take the vomiting. I never got used to that damn pill. Besides I wanted five children and I wasn’t going to get them while on the pill.
About six months before the onset of my periods I was having low gut pain. Mom took me to the doctor and he thought the problem was intestinal. He put me on some pills that turned my poop green and called it good.
My first period began on my 12th birthday. Happy Womanhood! From what I had read in the ‘Red Book’ Mom had given me, I knew that sometimes women had pain with their periods. Well, that was the cause for the strange pain I had been having. I guess I could live with that.
In the next few months the menstrual pain went from uncomfortable to horrendous. Mom gave me hot water bottles and aspirin. Occasionally, she would call the doctor and I would get codeine. Mostly, just aspirin and Midol; when Pamprin came on the market I would rotate the three for relief.
The pain would wake me from a sound sleep. I went downstairs to get the hot water bottle and Dad woke up to see if I was okay. When he heard “cramps” he would get Mom. She finally told him that I knew what to do and there was nothing she could do to help me. He asked if the doctor could prescribe more codeine. Mom told him, and I heard, that the doctor just thought I was being dramatic and the pain wasn’t really that bad.
I missed at least one day of school every month. The pain was overpowering. I remember in high school when the principal or vice principal would corner me for going home early or missing a day. I was so shy I couldn’t say, “Look I have cramps and they are killing me.” My PE teachers were very understanding to the point to showing me exercises that were supposed to help. They never did.
When I was about 16 I overheard my mother talking to a friend about the amount of pads we went through each month. She was saying that with two menstruating daughters we were going through a giant box of pads every month. And when the next two started, she was sure it would be two giant boxes!
Her friend thought maybe we were changing pads too often. Mom agreed to a point but was concerned about how heavy and long my flow was. My doctor had told her not to worry, flows of up to 7 – 8 days could be considered normal.
All I know is by 8th grade I was slipping into the restroom between classes to change pads after every class for the first three days of my period. Some of my friends had heavy flows as well; so I didn’t worry. And Betty Jo‘s cramps were worse than mine, so maybe it wasn’t that bad after all.
I left for the University of Oregon after high school. In the early spring I came down with a fever, vomiting and cramps. My friends took me to the campus medical clinic where I was admitted. The doctor ‘on call’ was a pediatrician. When he examined me he found this tiny little scar on my lower right abdomen. He asked about it and I explained that it was a ‘bikini cut’ appendectomy scar. Well, this guy was ready to perform an appendectomy and now he couldn’t. I explained I was having cramps with the ‘flu’. he had the nurse give me a mild pain killer and left. For the next 36 hours I lay in the clinic having cramps with no relief. Yes, I was pissed.
When I began taking birth control pills, at 19, the pain lessened. I threw up three to five mornings a month but the pain was tolerable.
After Scott and I had been married two months I went off the pill. I just couldn’t take the vomiting. I never got used to that damn pill. Besides I wanted five children and I wasn’t going to get them while on the pill.
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