Monday, 28 November 2011

I'm Blue... da-ba-di

You're welcome... to all of you who now have that song running through your head.

I've been avoiding the blogosphere. Honestly, it's tough to read about all of the people with IF blogs who are now pregnant or may be pregnant. Don't get me wrong - I'm so happy for them, and it really does help to restore some hope... but it's tough to read. When all I want is that and I can't seem to get it... it's tough. When I start reading blogs I end up in tears. When I think about writing my thoughts down, I end up in tears. When I write them (like right now), I end up in tears. It's too hard.

Most days are too hard. I've thought about just saying to hell with it all and end it. Yes, there I said it, I've thought about it. I've thought about who would care... I came up with very few people. I thought about how nothing would hurt anymore and how it would be easier than living like this. I thought about it. But I didn't do it... I'm not there yet.

That being said, I don't know what the next month will bring.

Today is my biopsy. After the painful hystereosonogram, Dr. B said she wants another biopsy. There are a few different possibilities:
1. everything comes back normal and the thick lining was just a result of months worth of non-ovulatory cycles.
2. I do have hyperplasia again, but it is the simplest, kindest kind, which won't be detrimental
3. I have the same hyperplasia as I did a year ago - and I'm left having lost a year and being right back to square one with the pre-cancer diagnosis
4. It comes back with cancerous cells present.

Naturally the first one would be the best. Part of me really does think this is the case. In the one month that I ovulated, I shed 16 mm of lining. What would happen if I ovulated every month. A normal cycle should allow me to shed all the lining that I need to... one would think. But until I am given something to make it happen, I can't be sure. Part of me wanted to take the damned clomid this month, just to see if it would fix the problem. To me that would be the simplest idea - but no, instead I get painful tests and stress of biopsies.

I honestly don't know what I'll do if it is number 4. That means a guaranteed hysterectomy and all my hopes for being a mother are gone. Adoption here is such a mess. There is no private adoption and public adoption for infants can take years. International adoption is a possibility, but it's so expensive. I don't get it... we have more than enough money to support a child, but we don't have enough to adopt one... there are thousands of kids without homes, but we can't afford to fix that for them... it's so frustrating.

I feel like such a loser and such a let down. I know that my husband loves me, but I feel like I let him down. I keep expecting him to say that he's done.. that he's going to find someone who CAN give him kids.

I'm just so sad.

And I don't want anymore painful tests.... I just don't.



The sadness is completely natural and understandable. You've been through so much, physically and emotionally, for over a year. And when the dreams closest to your heart are threatened, it's difficult to think about going through life without ever achieving them. I know. I understand. I often think the same thing: how can I keep going if I don't become a mother? Will life even be worth living?

So many people poo-poo those thoughts and feelings. They tell you that you have so much to live for and so much to be grateful for. And that's probably true. But when your heart is breaking, it's hard (if not impossible) to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

I'm sending you all the good thoughts I can and hoping that you're dealing with scenario #1 (or #2, at the worst). *hugs*

Single Mom 2b

I'm so sorry hun. And I know what you mean about having a hard time reading (and writing)... I've also been there many times over. You take care of YOU! I'm sending you hugs!!


Gosh I get it. I feel like throwing in the towel some days, but I know that I have to keep trying. You have to also. We are strong enough to get through this horrible chapter in our lives, even when it seems impossible.
You will be okay. Maybe not all the time, but enough to push through this.

We are here for you and it sounds like your hubby is too.


I don't normally pray but I'll try praying for number 1. I never would have thought I'd get to the point where not having kids was an option but it has crossed my mind. This is really frigging hard. Harder than I ever expected. Hang in there.

Post a Comment