Well, this is the place where I update, so here I am.
Before I start, I guess I should preface this with the fact that I don't expect anyone to be reading this. Included here the gross, personal, nitty gritty facts that come with TTC. It's not very interesting, or fun, or nice. It's just real life, real situations, and I need an outlet, somewhere to share. And here it is, my very own little personal space. If it helps you with TTC, or understanding me and my journey, then more power to it.
Exploratory Lap and HSG
I went in for an exploratory laparoscopy on Tuesday, April 28th. At the same time they would be performing an HSG to check the shape of my uterus and that my fallopian tubes were open and not blocked from my previous torsions. The doctors and nurses were great at checking me in, explaining my procedure, and prepping me for surgery. I would be under general anesthesia, so I wouldn't feel any pain while it was happening.
Fast forward 3 hours after the surgery, and I'm still in recovery but very, very out of it. One doctor is explaining something to me as I feel like I'm floating away on a cloud. I fall in and out of sleep as they move me into the main ward. I feel nauseous, so I try to eat a bit of toast. Almost vomit. Manage not to. Sleeping again.
Wake up in the middle of the night for more shots (2 of them), a bathroom run, and a low blood pressure warning from my arm cuff. Nurse turns off machines. Back into dreamless sleep.
Wake up again at 6am for temperatures, meds, blood pressure, incision site check. All looks good. Back to sleep. Wake up again - breakfast time. Manage to eat, then almost vomit, but don't (yay?). Sleeping on and off, can't focus, read, or watch anything. Lunch arrives. I eat it and feel almost normal. Another small nap, then more checks (temps, blood pressure, meds).
The doctors come by for post-op rounds. There are 6 doctors around me, but I only recognize one from my pre-op. They tell me the surgery was successful. I have stage 1 (mild) endometriosis, and that they cleared away all the spots they found. They also cleared away several adhesions, and now my uterus looks great and my fallopian tubes are open. That part is good news. My ovaries, both of them, are completely riddled with cysts. They say this matter of fact, but I tell them at my most recent scan my right ovary did not appear to have any cysts. They dismiss this and tell me that scans aren't always clear enough and that both ovaries are polycystic. Great.
My follow up will be done at my fertility clinic appointment next week. They leave, and I get one more round of temps, meds, blood pressure, a shower where they check my incision points (2 of which are still bleeding), and then discharged.
I am still floating on a cloud of meds as I walk myself out of the hospital and to the parking lot where my friend is waiting to take me home. Did I mention my husband is out of town at a business meeting? Five months hanging around at home and the one week he leaves, I have surgery. I can't blame him - he was booked for the trip before my surgery was. But that means I'm home alone post-op, trying to keep it together. I slept nearly 12 hours last night, and while I woke up with a higher than usual (for me) temperature, and a bit of continued bleeding, I seem okay. My stomach is sore at the three incision points and achey in general inside my abdomen, and I feel like a space-cadet, but these are all normal things after a surgery. I just have to allow myself time for rest and recovery.
Most of all, I guess I am still reeling from the diagnosis of endometriosis. I knew I had PCOS, and I had come to terms with that. But endo is a completely different, but just as difficult, problem. It means my uterine lining is growing outside my uterus. There is no cure for it, and often it gets worse as you get older. This is the reason I have had abdominal pain for the last 4 months. The only way to stop endo seems to be pregnancy. But endo makes it more difficult to get pregnant. So does PCOS. Each of them in their own way set up another roadblock for me, another barrier towards my rainbow. I have done a bit of research (who doesn't) and can't seem to find much on women with both PCOS and endometriosis. It's one or the other it seems - but what if you have both?
I try to focus on the positives - Tubes are open! Uterus looks good! Endometriosis spots and adhesions have been cleared away (for now)! Things are moving forward! But it's not always easy to stay positive. And I can't pretend all the time. Sometimes I just have to allow myself to grieve a bit. I'll be 29 next week, another reminder of how long this process is taking.
*Deep breath*. Focus on the positives. Keep it together. Things could be worse, right? *More deep breathing* I think it might be time for another nap.
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Saturday, April 25, 2015
One Inch At A Time
In a "normal" woman's cycle, which lasts an average of 28 days, ovulation occurs on day 14 and then you cross your fingers for 2 weeks while you wait to find out if you were successful that round. If it's positive, GREAT! If it's negative, oh well, you only have to wait two more weeks to try again.
Now I have yet to meet someone with a perfectly "normal" cycle, but I would say the majority of women fit into this basic pattern. I, sadly, am not one of them. Instead of ovulating every 28 days, my body gears up to ovulate several times, but never quite succeeds due to a lack in the proper hormones (estrogen and progesterone) and an overproduction of the wrong hormones (androgens). This is a two-fold whammy. First, it leads to delayed ovulation and incredibly long cycles. I don't mean a 35-40 day cycle. I mean more in the 90-120 day cycles - 3 to 4 months worth of waiting. The second problem is that each time an egg is not released, it decreases in quality. This means that when it is, in fact, released, it is less likely to result in pregnancy. And then women with PCOS have a higher chance of miscarriage, gestational diabetes, preeclampsia, and premature diabetes. Well isn't PCOS just filled with sunshine and butterflies and rainbows of good news?
My doctor recommend I decrease my BMI from 25 to 22, as losing weight and eating healthy are two of the best lifestyle changes to increase the chance of ovulation. I have been exercising more and eating very healthy, so now it's just going to take time to see the changes. As I said before, I am a "lean PCOS" because my BMI is in the normal range but I still may have too much insulin in my body, making it difficult to lose weight and causes even more problems. But my recent decrease in weight means...
... I was lucky enough to *finally* ovulate on my own on April 8. My temperatures increased and stayed increased for 13 days before AF arrived. This is great news for two reasons:
1) I am actually, in fact, ovulating (even if it is very very late)
2) My luteal phase (LP), the second part of the cycle, is long enough to sustain a pregnancy
For us PCOS girls, ovulating on your own is a cause for celebration in itself. Most women end up needing treatment to cause their cycles to end, but I was lucky enough to start a new cycle myself. Hurray! (popping a bottle of champagne now!)
So after celebrating my ovulation, I had that tortuous "two week wait" - the time between ovulating and testing. I even had a slew of symptoms, like most women do, which could by PMS or pregnancy. I threw up several times for no apparent reason, so I was very hopeful. Unfortunately, this cycle was not the one but for now I'm enjoying little victories. And the throwing up? Hubby and I both have some kind of stomach bug and neither of us have felt well for over a week, so that explains that.
The best news now is that I have had a pre-op appointment and have just been scheduled for my actual surgery on Tuesday. Yay! That's months before I expected to be fit in, moving things along nicely. The doctors will be doing an HSG, which is where dye is squirted through your tubes to check if they are open. If they aren't the doctors go in to remove any blockages. With my history of torsions, it is quite likely they are blocked, so even if I ovulate on my own, it couldn't get through to be fertilized. They are also going in laparoscopically to check out the condition and location of my ovaries. My left ovary is still riddled with cysts, but my right ovary is cyst-free and smaller than they think it should be. This could be from my previous surgery when they had to cut through my ovary to take out the cyst. Either way, I should come out of the surgery with more answers and at the very least information for my fertility clinic appointment - which is in just two weeks!
Although I am disappointed with not falling pregnant after the last never-ending cycle, at least something is happening. We aren't just sitting around, twiddling our thumbs, waiting for my hormones to magically regulate themselves. I am so grateful for the NHS, my doctors, and the treatment I have been receiving. I appreciate being proactive and moving forward, one inch at a time.
Now I have yet to meet someone with a perfectly "normal" cycle, but I would say the majority of women fit into this basic pattern. I, sadly, am not one of them. Instead of ovulating every 28 days, my body gears up to ovulate several times, but never quite succeeds due to a lack in the proper hormones (estrogen and progesterone) and an overproduction of the wrong hormones (androgens). This is a two-fold whammy. First, it leads to delayed ovulation and incredibly long cycles. I don't mean a 35-40 day cycle. I mean more in the 90-120 day cycles - 3 to 4 months worth of waiting. The second problem is that each time an egg is not released, it decreases in quality. This means that when it is, in fact, released, it is less likely to result in pregnancy. And then women with PCOS have a higher chance of miscarriage, gestational diabetes, preeclampsia, and premature diabetes. Well isn't PCOS just filled with sunshine and butterflies and rainbows of good news?
My doctor recommend I decrease my BMI from 25 to 22, as losing weight and eating healthy are two of the best lifestyle changes to increase the chance of ovulation. I have been exercising more and eating very healthy, so now it's just going to take time to see the changes. As I said before, I am a "lean PCOS" because my BMI is in the normal range but I still may have too much insulin in my body, making it difficult to lose weight and causes even more problems. But my recent decrease in weight means...
... I was lucky enough to *finally* ovulate on my own on April 8. My temperatures increased and stayed increased for 13 days before AF arrived. This is great news for two reasons:
1) I am actually, in fact, ovulating (even if it is very very late)
2) My luteal phase (LP), the second part of the cycle, is long enough to sustain a pregnancy
For us PCOS girls, ovulating on your own is a cause for celebration in itself. Most women end up needing treatment to cause their cycles to end, but I was lucky enough to start a new cycle myself. Hurray! (popping a bottle of champagne now!)
So after celebrating my ovulation, I had that tortuous "two week wait" - the time between ovulating and testing. I even had a slew of symptoms, like most women do, which could by PMS or pregnancy. I threw up several times for no apparent reason, so I was very hopeful. Unfortunately, this cycle was not the one but for now I'm enjoying little victories. And the throwing up? Hubby and I both have some kind of stomach bug and neither of us have felt well for over a week, so that explains that.
The best news now is that I have had a pre-op appointment and have just been scheduled for my actual surgery on Tuesday. Yay! That's months before I expected to be fit in, moving things along nicely. The doctors will be doing an HSG, which is where dye is squirted through your tubes to check if they are open. If they aren't the doctors go in to remove any blockages. With my history of torsions, it is quite likely they are blocked, so even if I ovulate on my own, it couldn't get through to be fertilized. They are also going in laparoscopically to check out the condition and location of my ovaries. My left ovary is still riddled with cysts, but my right ovary is cyst-free and smaller than they think it should be. This could be from my previous surgery when they had to cut through my ovary to take out the cyst. Either way, I should come out of the surgery with more answers and at the very least information for my fertility clinic appointment - which is in just two weeks!
Although I am disappointed with not falling pregnant after the last never-ending cycle, at least something is happening. We aren't just sitting around, twiddling our thumbs, waiting for my hormones to magically regulate themselves. I am so grateful for the NHS, my doctors, and the treatment I have been receiving. I appreciate being proactive and moving forward, one inch at a time.
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Keep Living Your Life
Once you decide it's time to have a baby, it can be a very stressful time in your life. When you are trying to conceive (TTC), you are warned to always behave as if you were, in fact, pregnant already. Some doctors recommend not drinking any alcohol, decreasing physical activity, taking prenatal vitamins, decreasing travel, etc. This is to provide the best chances for your baby, should you indeed fall pregnant. But what about those women that take years to get pregnant? Should they act as if they are pregnant for years? Then your entire life revolves around this one thing, that may not change for a long while.
I had been hesitant to sign up for anything or plan any trip in the early months of TTC. I kept thinking to myself, maybe I'll be pregnant by then, so I shouldn't waste my money on that! By now, I've become a bit more rational and realized you have to just keep living your life. If you don't, you can end up obsessing and feeling really depressed about actually doing anything with your life while you are waiting.
As for me, I've just signed up for a half marathon and a half ironman. One of my doctors has recommended I get down to a BMI of 22 (!) so races are a good way to have a goal to reach while decreasing my weight. Apparently, losing body fat can trigger ovulation in women with PCOS. I am one of the lucky ones, a "lean" PCOS with an acceptable BMI. These races aren't only good for decreasing my weight, they are also giving me something to look forward to. I've decided that, worst case scenario, I can just pull out of the race. It will mean I lose some money - but if I'm pregnant, I don't think I'll mind much. I'm also looking into a few local trips to take - things I'd like to do one last time pre-baby. Like a trip to Cinque Terre, Italy, or a weekend visit to Croatia. In fact, I'm taking recommendations for travel in Europe if anyone has any ideas!
If you're reading this because it is also taking you longer than you thought to conceive and you are wishing for your rainbow, how do you keep living your life? That glass of wine with dinner (savoring it and wondering if it might be your last), that soak in the hot tub, that exotic beach vacation? Because while TTC can really affect your current life, you shouldn't have to stop living.
I had been hesitant to sign up for anything or plan any trip in the early months of TTC. I kept thinking to myself, maybe I'll be pregnant by then, so I shouldn't waste my money on that! By now, I've become a bit more rational and realized you have to just keep living your life. If you don't, you can end up obsessing and feeling really depressed about actually doing anything with your life while you are waiting.
As for me, I've just signed up for a half marathon and a half ironman. One of my doctors has recommended I get down to a BMI of 22 (!) so races are a good way to have a goal to reach while decreasing my weight. Apparently, losing body fat can trigger ovulation in women with PCOS. I am one of the lucky ones, a "lean" PCOS with an acceptable BMI. These races aren't only good for decreasing my weight, they are also giving me something to look forward to. I've decided that, worst case scenario, I can just pull out of the race. It will mean I lose some money - but if I'm pregnant, I don't think I'll mind much. I'm also looking into a few local trips to take - things I'd like to do one last time pre-baby. Like a trip to Cinque Terre, Italy, or a weekend visit to Croatia. In fact, I'm taking recommendations for travel in Europe if anyone has any ideas!
 |
| Finishing my first half-ironman! |
If you're reading this because it is also taking you longer than you thought to conceive and you are wishing for your rainbow, how do you keep living your life? That glass of wine with dinner (savoring it and wondering if it might be your last), that soak in the hot tub, that exotic beach vacation? Because while TTC can really affect your current life, you shouldn't have to stop living.
Saturday, April 4, 2015
You Have to Start Somewhere
Look around your home. Is your life what you thought it would be? Is anybody's life what they thought it would be? As children (and okay, even as a young adult) we have an idea of where we want to be and WHO we want to be when we "grow up". Hah. Grow up. What does it even mean to "grow up"? And when will we get to this magical land of grown-up-ness? Sorry, I digress. What I'm trying to say is that we often find ourselves in a place that we didn't expect to be.
Take me, for example. I never thought I'd be living in Scotland with my British husband working in an online-school, but those are all good surprises. I love my home and my work and my community, and I love living close to at least part of my family. But there is a part of my life that is missing, that I thought would be here by now. Or if not be here, then be on its way to here. Unfortunately it looks like it's going to take a lot longer than we hoped.
Have you guessed what I'm talking about yet?
Yep, that's right. Babies. Or rather, just one baby for now. We should have known it wasn't going to be easy, but it looks like it's going to be harder than we'd like.
And since you have to start somewhere, I'm going to start here. I need someone to vent to besides my poor husband, and I don't want to continually pester my busy friends who are already moms or who have a lot on their own plate already. I find writing very therapeutic, even if no one is going to read it. I've made a new blog specifically for this purpose, so I don't mix up my everyday life with this struggle we are going through.
So where do I start? I guess I can back it up a few years for those of you who don't know me. I had my first sign of trouble in 2011 when a large cyst on my ovary burst. It felt like someone was trying to gut me with a knife, the pain was so intense. I waited in an ER for hours in a hospital in Switzerland (where I was living at the time) before the scan showed the burst cyst and the fluid in my abdomen. There was so much fluid that it made it difficult to breathe so I had to stay upright in bed for a few days. I merrily moved on with my life, not thinking much about it until...
The next time I wasn't so lucky. In 2012, I felt the familiar stabbing, shuddering pain of a cyst and nearly didn't seek medical treatment because the cost was too high. The last time we had paid thousands for a short stay in the hospital - and it wasn't like they could even do anything for me. A kind friend convinced me (read: screamed at me until I gave in), that I should go see someone. Reluctantly I did, and when the doctor discovered a 6cm cyst on my ovary and a torsion of my fallopian tube, I was extremely grateful I had. I was immediately rushed to surgery to remove the cyst and untwist the tube and all seemed well. I was given my first warning then - if I wanted kids I should start trying... now! But I was only 25 and newly married and too busy for kids. So I waited.
A year passed, and another cyst appeared. It seemed to have burst before causing problems, and again, I was hospitalized. There seems to be a theme here....
My doctor at the time put me on Depo-provera as a way to control the large, reoccurring cysts. Depo-provera is an injectable birth control that is taken every 12 weeks. I was okay with using it at the time because kids were still in the future, and it decreased my chances of cysts. I stopped taking injections in December 2013, knowing that it could take 9 months to leave my system.
We continued to use a different form of birth control through August of the next year, because we were taking anti-malarial pills while we were in Africa and it is important to avoid pregnancy at that time. Then, we were off of them - huzzah! - and hoping to bring back a little souvenir from our trip in the form of a baby.
That was 8 months ago, and just yesterday the doctor has positively confirmed my diagnosis of Poly Cystic Ovary Syndrome, or PCOS. My last doctor tentatively diagnosed me, but never followed through with any of the additional tests. I've had a recent scan that shows one ovary riddled with small cysts, and my other ovary looks small but normal. The cysts in conjunction with my never ending cycle (it's day 102 or something ridiculous like that), confirms my diagnosis. PCOS means I create cysts instead of releasing eggs, which makes it very hard to get pregnant. My doctor seemed optimistic about my chances as he believes fertility drugs are very likely to work for me, as long as my fallopian tubes aren't damaged.
Now I'm onto my first step in the infertility process. I have been referred for a laproscopic surgery to investigate the state of my ovaries and fallopian tubes. That should be sometime in the next 10-12 weeks, and we'll go from there. My wonderful GP has already referred us to the fertility clinic, and we should be notified about an appointment in the next few weeks. This is all good news, because it means we are at least being seen and taking the necessary steps. But it's also big and scary, with possibly a long road ahead of us. I know some things are on my side - I'm still relatively young and at a good BMI - but sometimes I just feel helpless and frustrated and angry. I try to keep a positive attitude, but it doesn't always happen. I guess that's a normal part of the process too.
At the beginning of this post I asked if your life was what you thought it would be. For me, I had this thought as I walked through my exceptionally quiet and clean kitchen. Hubby and I bought this house to have a family in, but as of now its just us. For me, it is too quiet and too clean. I thought by now I'd be preparing for a little one to join us in our big empty house, but now, who knows how long until that dream is a reality. There's a saying people use in the TTC (trying to conceive) community, especially the infertility sections. They say they are wishing for their rainbow baby. The baby that comes after all the stress and unhappiness and anger and frustration and the feeling that it will never, ever happen. The baby that brightens the sky and reminds you of the good that can come from the bad. Often since moving to this lovely house, I catch myself looking out the window and wishing for my rainbow to appear.
Take me, for example. I never thought I'd be living in Scotland with my British husband working in an online-school, but those are all good surprises. I love my home and my work and my community, and I love living close to at least part of my family. But there is a part of my life that is missing, that I thought would be here by now. Or if not be here, then be on its way to here. Unfortunately it looks like it's going to take a lot longer than we hoped.
Have you guessed what I'm talking about yet?
Yep, that's right. Babies. Or rather, just one baby for now. We should have known it wasn't going to be easy, but it looks like it's going to be harder than we'd like.
And since you have to start somewhere, I'm going to start here. I need someone to vent to besides my poor husband, and I don't want to continually pester my busy friends who are already moms or who have a lot on their own plate already. I find writing very therapeutic, even if no one is going to read it. I've made a new blog specifically for this purpose, so I don't mix up my everyday life with this struggle we are going through.
So where do I start? I guess I can back it up a few years for those of you who don't know me. I had my first sign of trouble in 2011 when a large cyst on my ovary burst. It felt like someone was trying to gut me with a knife, the pain was so intense. I waited in an ER for hours in a hospital in Switzerland (where I was living at the time) before the scan showed the burst cyst and the fluid in my abdomen. There was so much fluid that it made it difficult to breathe so I had to stay upright in bed for a few days. I merrily moved on with my life, not thinking much about it until...
The next time I wasn't so lucky. In 2012, I felt the familiar stabbing, shuddering pain of a cyst and nearly didn't seek medical treatment because the cost was too high. The last time we had paid thousands for a short stay in the hospital - and it wasn't like they could even do anything for me. A kind friend convinced me (read: screamed at me until I gave in), that I should go see someone. Reluctantly I did, and when the doctor discovered a 6cm cyst on my ovary and a torsion of my fallopian tube, I was extremely grateful I had. I was immediately rushed to surgery to remove the cyst and untwist the tube and all seemed well. I was given my first warning then - if I wanted kids I should start trying... now! But I was only 25 and newly married and too busy for kids. So I waited.
A year passed, and another cyst appeared. It seemed to have burst before causing problems, and again, I was hospitalized. There seems to be a theme here....
My doctor at the time put me on Depo-provera as a way to control the large, reoccurring cysts. Depo-provera is an injectable birth control that is taken every 12 weeks. I was okay with using it at the time because kids were still in the future, and it decreased my chances of cysts. I stopped taking injections in December 2013, knowing that it could take 9 months to leave my system.
We continued to use a different form of birth control through August of the next year, because we were taking anti-malarial pills while we were in Africa and it is important to avoid pregnancy at that time. Then, we were off of them - huzzah! - and hoping to bring back a little souvenir from our trip in the form of a baby.
That was 8 months ago, and just yesterday the doctor has positively confirmed my diagnosis of Poly Cystic Ovary Syndrome, or PCOS. My last doctor tentatively diagnosed me, but never followed through with any of the additional tests. I've had a recent scan that shows one ovary riddled with small cysts, and my other ovary looks small but normal. The cysts in conjunction with my never ending cycle (it's day 102 or something ridiculous like that), confirms my diagnosis. PCOS means I create cysts instead of releasing eggs, which makes it very hard to get pregnant. My doctor seemed optimistic about my chances as he believes fertility drugs are very likely to work for me, as long as my fallopian tubes aren't damaged.
Now I'm onto my first step in the infertility process. I have been referred for a laproscopic surgery to investigate the state of my ovaries and fallopian tubes. That should be sometime in the next 10-12 weeks, and we'll go from there. My wonderful GP has already referred us to the fertility clinic, and we should be notified about an appointment in the next few weeks. This is all good news, because it means we are at least being seen and taking the necessary steps. But it's also big and scary, with possibly a long road ahead of us. I know some things are on my side - I'm still relatively young and at a good BMI - but sometimes I just feel helpless and frustrated and angry. I try to keep a positive attitude, but it doesn't always happen. I guess that's a normal part of the process too.
At the beginning of this post I asked if your life was what you thought it would be. For me, I had this thought as I walked through my exceptionally quiet and clean kitchen. Hubby and I bought this house to have a family in, but as of now its just us. For me, it is too quiet and too clean. I thought by now I'd be preparing for a little one to join us in our big empty house, but now, who knows how long until that dream is a reality. There's a saying people use in the TTC (trying to conceive) community, especially the infertility sections. They say they are wishing for their rainbow baby. The baby that comes after all the stress and unhappiness and anger and frustration and the feeling that it will never, ever happen. The baby that brightens the sky and reminds you of the good that can come from the bad. Often since moving to this lovely house, I catch myself looking out the window and wishing for my rainbow to appear.
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