Punched in the Gut

My blog is going to take a bit of detour. I still have stuff in my head and heart I want to share, but right now life keeps throwing me for a few loops. I hope my readers don't mind. What I share may be far more personal than people are comfortable about reading. But I'm inspired by others, like Hetty (@AliveInMe), who have gone through far worse situations and shared their stories. If people pay counselors hundreds of dollars to listen, maybe there is something about having an opportunity to just say what's going on in life and how we feel about it.

For those that follow me on Twitter, I know I appear happy, upbeat and positive most of the time. But I get knocked down too. Today I think I reached a point where I needed to step back - including leaving the office - just to deal with what got handed me.

As my readers don't know much of this story, I will give you some background. My husband and I have tried unsuccessfully for years to have children. In 2006, I had a seriously bad miscarriage. I bled heavily from the start, hemorrhaged badly three times - blood literally pouring out of me, several trips to the hospital and mandatory bed rest. We lost that child - for all I know children... there were "fetal tissues" lost during the first major hemorrhage, but they still had a heartbeat. I lost 30 pounds over that pregnancy, when one usually gains weight. During the D&C I hemorrhaged again so badly the doctor had to call in another doctor and performed the procedure blindly via ultrasound.

A few months later, my father passed away suddenly and unexpectedly at the young age of 64. His mother is still alive today and our family is known for longevity, so none of us were prepared for this. My mother has relied on our help since then, especially as my siblings have kids to care for and we didn't.

My husband and I were looking at adoption even before that pregnancy, and were working with DCF. We reached the point when we could go no further with them until we showed them the bedrooms we would have for the child. That required a larger home than our small apartment. We were shopping for a house and put several offers on a home we loved two months after my father died - less than a year after the miscarriage. None were accepted and soon thereafter our Realtor quit the profession.

Our house hunt faltered as helping my mother and brother, who was both ill and going through a divorce, took priorities.

All through this, every month I had my "visitor", I would flash back to those horrific moments I had blood pouring out of me and feared I was pregnant and miscarrying again. Several of these were late - and as we were trying, they may have been early term misscarriages. There were also months where I missed altogether and had my doctor confirm I was starting early menopause - younger than 40 years of age.

It didn't help matters that over the last few years I've been getting 6-month mammographies and "paps" for abnormalities and potential breast and cervical cancers. But at least I was monitoring those ready to spring into action to resolve it if something should arise.

Last summer the sole income for the company that employs me filed for bankruptcy. While I wasn't let go with all the other employees, my job barely hung on by a thread. As my husband has been out of work since 2001, I am the only income and we faced loosing it.

Months stretched on and tensions mounted. We never had time to come to emotional terms with our losses as we were busy.

Then a few months ago, I snapped! Our home was in complete disorder and disrepair, cluttered to the point we couldn't move freely. My husband and I shared less and less; we were moving apart. While we started to clear out the clutter, I uncovered the books and paperwork associated with my pregnancy and I just suddenly burst out in sobs of loss.

As grief counseling was the rational approach, I contacted my OB-Gyn for references. On one of my 6-month visits we discussed pregnancy and the doctor revealed that "it is medically determined that is dangerous for you to become pregnant." This in no way helped alleviate my fears each month.

So after careful consideration and reviewing all the options, my husband and I decided that I should go for a tubal ligation ("getting my tubes tied") as a means of ensuring I couldn't get pregnant. The surgery was scheduled for tomorrow.

I was prepared mentally, emotionally, and physically. A few weeks ago, my husband and I even had a ceremony saying farewell both to the one pregnancy we did know, and those we will never know. I may share this ceremony with my readers on a different post later.

Then I went for my pre-op appointment yesterday. Everything I could do I did, ready to face infertility, surgery and move forward ready to restart the adoption process without the "you're the alternative" mentality that could result from an unresolved miscarriage. That challenge was ready to be faced and the book ready to close.

Then we spoke with the doctor....

There are a few issues that came up. When my cervix is dilated - I hemorrhage. There is some "unknown structure" inside my uterus; any contact with which can lead to devastating results. There's no way to try to know what this "fibrous" thing except a biopsy. If they cannot open my cervix for the biopsy, that means surgery. This, as the doctor told me this morning, may mean a full hysterectomy decided by the doctor when I'm in that surgery.

So now, tomorrow's surgery is canceled and we face a few more hurdles and decisions to make. In the interim, abstinence has become a frustrating friend of mine as I fear getting pregnant. I joked with my husband about joining a convent - lol.

It's a mental struggle and an emotional and financial roller-coaster, but a process of life all the same.

I know so many others who have it far worse that we do. But I do ask that if I fail to write in my blog or go silent on Twitter for a spell, not getting back to people as I should, please understand. Some days I need to go and hide to help me deal with what is on my own plate.

Some days life just punches you in the stomach.

- ESA