Turning Around My Bad Day
Yesterday was no good.
To pile on my month of craptastic health issues, I nervously headed to my OB’s office for a follow up ultrasound to check on the cyst that ruptured back in April. I have been on birth control therapy since in hopes that it would help to shrink it.
Not only did it not shrink, but it was still there and growing.
She then said the “S” word that I am not incredibly fond of: surgery. She suspects that I have endometriosis as well so she said the best case is that we have a little “cleaning” done (ha… I know TMI… love my OB) and hope that the cyst is only attached to my ovary. Worst case: if the endometriosis is extensive, I’ll lose my tube and if the cyst is attached to additional areas beyond my ovary then I will lose my ovary as well. There was no talk of cancer, so I’m not worried about that. There’s just something about having to give up pieces of what makes me a woman that makes me just… sad.
I posted before about my declining fertility when the cyst initially ruptured back in April. I was told it wouldn’t be in my best interest to get pregnant. Fearing that I already knew the answer, I asked my doctor if this was the final seal on my fertility door. Her answer surprised me as she said, “Absolutely not. You still have one perfectly functioning ovary. If you want to get pregnant again, I’ll get you there.” I kind of wish she had just said, “Nope. You’re done.” Because now I have the glimmer of hope. We did cap it at 6 month post op. If I don’t get pregnant in that time (naturally) we will be done. At my age, the need and desire to go into the world of ART and fertility drugs has long passed and I will not go that route. Why 6 months? That is typically the timeframe it takes for cysts and endo to reappear and we will want to get me on hormone therapy (a.k.a. birth control pills) to stop it.
While I’m giving the post op 6 months the old college try, I’ll confess, I’m weary. After 2 1/2 years of trying to conceive Jackson, I was emotionally drained. When I got the positive pregnancy test, I was shocked because I had finally accepted that we may not have kids. I was at peace. I am content with our family being just the 3 of us; however, I feel like babies and pregnant women are around me everywhere I go. It must be a sign right? So, just one more try.
After this terrible day, I was in dire need of a pick me up. I walked into Jackson’s classroom where about 10 little people were sitting on the floor perfectly staring at their teacher who was holding up a pirate book complete with matching (blaring) song. Jackson said “Hi, Mommy!” but didn’t budge until he was done singing along to the entire song. Once finished, he ran to me and gave me a hug. Most needed hug ever. I came home to a husband who was busy making a manicotti dinner. Wine cork already popped and a lovely glass waiting for me. We also went on a family trip to Barnes & Noble where my husband decided that he wanted to buy me something to cheer me up (distract me). Introducing my new friend: Nook Color:
Perhaps I should come home with bad news more often! Turns out it is all the little things that turned my bad day around. No matter what happens, I have an amazing little boy who brightens up my every day and a husband who always goes the extra mile. I’m a pretty lucky girl.