Saturday, June 19, 2010
are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now"
Eight months ago I had a fall cleaning … the doc went in and cleaned out all of my endometriosis. It was stage 4; there are only 4 stages.
Four days ago I had a spring cleaning … the doc went in and cleaned out my endometriosis, scar tissue and adhesions, removed a cyst and untangled my ovary, which had become “one” with my fallopian tube.
Eight months ago I believed I’d be pain/symptom free for two/three years, the average time endo remains “dormant” following a clean out and back-to-back birth control.
I had six months before the pain took control of my life. Again.
The recovery from this second surgery makes the memories of the first seem like a paper cut in comparison. I’ve never felt such excruciating pain — and subsequent fear — in my life.
Going into Tuesday, I was terrified of what they’d find — or, more honestly, of what they wouldn’t. I couldn’t have handled a non-cause, a long, endless list of possibilities. Certainties you can face, head on, it’s the mysteries that leave you breathless. Or, so I thought.
My biggest fear, aside from not knowing, had been the idea that I couldn’t be a mommy again. Cooper would be such an amazing big brother and it is written on my heart, on my soul, to see that dream come to fruition. If I can’t bake my own baby, there are, of course, other options, other equally beautiful avenues.
But now, sitting here, crumbling in a bout of pain uneased by meds, I am faced with an ugliness I hadn’t imagined: a life unlived. There is no cure, no absolute fix for endo, even complete removal of all things “mommy makers” isn’t a guarantee for pain-free days.
I have yet to find a pain med that eases my symptoms and allows me to be, well, me. Chronic pain inhibits my ability to be the kind of wife, daughter, friend, sister, aunt and, above all else, mother, I want to be. I can’t miss out — I refuse to miss out — on the little moments of Cooper’s life because my body chooses to glue itself into a mass of ugly. But, I have yet to find the strength to push through the pain.
Chris and I have an appointment with the infertility specialist next week and a post-op appointment with my surgeon the next.
I’m praying for answers, for help, for strength, for a light at the end of it all.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Friday, October 2, 2009
I sent the following to a friend of mine awhile ago when she was going through a rough patch ... and she just returned the favor. :) Thought I'd share this in the hope it might help someone else who's having "one of those days":
"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' . . . You must do the thing you think you cannot do." — Eleanor Roosevelt
You are doing that thing, right now, this very moment. Be proud of your bravery, of your strength, even on the days when you forget you are being brave, being strong.
"Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase." — Martin Luther King, Jr.
You’ve taken the first step, and the second and the third. Each day is a new step toward a new adventure, a new life. Trust that the staircase will lead you where you need to go.
"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." — Robert Frost
It does. It is. It will. I promise.
"Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down." — Oprah Winfrey
I’ve got the bus tickets, where do you want to go? =)
thanks for the reminder, K ... words have power and meaning, it doesn't matter who writes them, it only matters that they were and that they're shared.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
When Amy stopped by the office briefly to complete a couple of projects, she was gifted with the donations. She was completely touched and overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support by both her coworkers and perfect strangers.
On a side note … there’s a very special book on its way to Avery. My amazing mom, who believes in the power and beauty of words, sent a note to author Dallas Clayton (veryawesomeworld.com) upon hearing of Amy and Avery’s situation. For every copy of “An Awesome Book” Dallas sells, he gives one away. Having purchased the children’s book as a 30th b-day gift for me (the message is universally appealing and inspiring), my mom is very aware of how, well, awesome the story is … which is made even awesomer (yes, that’s a word) by Dallas’ pay it forward attitude. And yay (!!!) he’s paying it forward to Avery… a signed copy is in the mail.
Thanks again to everyone who has sent prayers, donations and unexpected words of awesomeness to Amy and Avery … here’s to the continued greatness that is the kindness of strangers.