Normalcy is good

First of all, thank you guys for your supportive comments on my last post. I was a little nervous to put that out there, but I'm not anymore. Not only do I feel like it should be said, but I'm starting to wonder if maybe I am among those who should be saying it more often. As Katie pointed out in her comment, fertile women are sometimes chastised for speaking out about an issue some think they don't have the right to talk about (it shouldn't be like that, but it is). So that got me thinking. Maybe I am someone who can and should be speaking out about it, educating other Catholics. Maybe that's one of the reasons I'm going through this. I'm not sure in what capacity I could do that, but I guess I'll pray about it.

Anyways, it has been a busy few days. I head back to VA tomorrow morning. If you get a chance, please pray for my husband. He is having horrible pain in one of his legs and he even went to the ER this morning. Of course this happens when I am not there, of all times, and the worst of it happened while I was on the air this morning so no one could even reach me (and keep in mind - I am normally always home and always available). It's bad, though. He hasn't slept since Friday night and the pain meds he got at the ER barely do anything for it. Hopefully we can find out what it is in the next few days and get it taken care of.

As for my cycle, it's day 25 and it's eight days post-peak. The really interesting thing, though, is that this cycle is so far identical to last cycle. I started mucus on the same day (day 11), it lasted for the same amount of time (seven days), and peaked on the same day (day 17). This might sound like no big deal, but you have to understand that no two cycles have even come close to being similar for me in the past. So this is big.

Also big is the fact that the last three cycles - which also happen to be the three cycles since starting my diet - appear very normal. I had a normal amount of mucus, one peak day, and then several dry days. That is HUGE for me. Since I started charting two years ago I have never, until May, had a cycle that appeared "textbook." I almost want to take a picture of my charts before May, because you really have to see them to understand. They're crazy. They're all over the place. I counted, and my cycles prior to May have an average of 3.2 peak days, meaning I wrote the little "P" on the white sticker, had a few dry days, and then had more mucus, and another "P". This happened four or five times during some cycles. I rarely had one peak day. But now... the average number of peak days for my last three cycles is one. One! I love being normal!

Another stat I worked up when I was bored - the average length of my cycle pre-laparotomy was 36.14, while the average length of my cycles post-surgery is 28.6. I just think things are definitely looking up. I can't deny that. Things are changing, and they appear to be changing for the better. I'm not sure if it's my diet, though, because May is also the point at which my prolactin medication probably kicked in. Regardless, something is helping.

So interesting little thing about me lately - I really don't have much of an appetite. That's really weird for me. Really, really weird. I like to eat and I'm hungry often, even on my diet. Today I had to force myself to eat in order to take medication, which I'm about to do again in a few minutes. Maybe it's the Met, but I've been on it for about three weeks at this point and it didn't start until the other day. Speaking of Met, I started taking it with milk and before my meal, and doing so has completely alleviated any stomach upset (which is another reason I'm not sure this is due to the medication).

Well if this cycle continues to mimic last month's, then it will come to a conclusion on Thursday. I've never been predictable, so this is new for me!

Update: So this morning my temp rose to 98.8. That's more good news because it had been hovering around 98.2-98.4 since my peak day and had been below 98.0 before that (and I awoke a couple hours earlier than normal today, and it still rose). I can't tell you how excited I was to see the high temp!

On the bright side...

...I don't have to wait two weeks to see if I'm pregnant and be let down. We can get right to work on the second cycle post surgery. I mean, no one gets pregnant on the same cycle of their surgery, right?

Even though I'm not one to watch my chart too closely (except on my fertile days), I was planning on posting today about what day I was on, how I have had a lot of fertile mucus days (too many, perhaps?), and what it all may mean. I was officially going to become obsessed with my cycle again and to over-analyze each nuance. Then I got my period this afternoon.

So here goes anyway: Yesterday was cycle day 30, I had 15 days of mucus (with the exception of a three days in between the days of mucus), and my luteal phase was a total of three days. What does that mean?? I typically have long cycles, ranging from about 35-45 days. Short luteal phases aren't usually my problem; I've only had one other cycle like this since I started charting. So it's safe to say I wasn't expecting this today.

I'm not sure what to make of it. My ovaries did just undergo major surgery three weeks ago today, so maybe they're just getting back on track. But one thing I am fearing (because I always fear the worst) is that I have PCOD (or S..which is it?). Dr. Hilgers didn't completely rule it out since my ovaries were in such rough shape that he couldn't tell what was going on underneath the endometriomas. I also have high testosterone, which could be a sign I think (but other than that there aren't any real symptoms). God, please don't let me have PCOD. I can't face another major surgery. I don't want to go back to Omaha. I just want this to all be over with.

So this is where having patience comes in. I won't even begin the process of having new blood work done for three weeks. I probably won't get the results or hear what new treatment options there are for two months. And I might not start any possible new treatments for three months. But, despite my crazy cycles, I just have to keep going, as if my body is completely capable of conceiving. This is when I have a hard time with hope - when is hope just me lying to myself? Maybe that's when blind faith comes in - having hope in the Lord even when it seems the odds are stacked against me.

Back when I thought I had a chance to conceive each month (it seems so long ago now) I use to allow myself an indulgence on days where I found out it wasn't happening. That usually meant eating a peanut butter cup sundae from Friendly's. So maybe I'll start that tradition back up!

More on hope, post surgery

Yesterday I received an amazing email. It was not unsolicited, but I had forgotten that I was waiting for a reply, and the reply was unbelievable.

Let me explain. I was talking to a woman in December who runs the Perpetual Adoration chapel where I used to live, and I told her about my upcoming surgery. She immediately insisted I email a religious community (which happens to be located in Omaha, NE, which is why I think she thought of it for me in the first place, since that was where my surgery would be) called Intercessors of the Lamb. I'm not sure exactly what they are, but I know they are a group of contemplative hermits whose mission (I think) is intercession. My friend has some connection to them, and said to use her name in the email. So I logged onto their website and clicked on prayer request. I sent them a short version of my story and asked for their prayers. I told my friend I had sent it and she said they'd get back to me after they'd discerned for me. I wasn't sure what that meant in this context, but when I asked my mother she said she was pretty sure they'd pray about my situation and then tell me what came to them in prayer, any advice they may have, what I should focus on. So it's safe to say I was excited to hear their response.

I didn't receive a response before my surgery and then I kind of forgot about it in the flurry of post-surgery recovery. But yesterday I received the response and it was very enlightening. Here is a sample of what they said came to them while in prayer for me:

· An image of Jesus dressed as a surgeon and Our Lady dressed as a nurse and the room was filled with light
· An image of you recovering from surgery, angels were surrounding you and Our Lady came and handed Baby Jesus to you and there was joy
· Jeremiah 29:11 – spoke of hope

Here is the verse they mentioned:

11 For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

I was so excited! That verse has comforted me before, and now it has taken on new meaning.. like God wants me to specifically pray about it. I know our own personal prayer can be just as good as that of the Intercessors, but somehow hearing it from them really helps it to hit home. Overall, the theme was (big surprise) trusting the Lord and following Him. I think we all know that is the answer to being delivered from our infertility grief.. but getting to that point sometimes seems impossible. I think we often just hope we'll get pregnant before we really have to give in to His will, but realistically I know that perhaps true happiness (with or without children) won't come until I follow Him. And if that's the lesson He wants me to learn, maybe giving in will only help pregnancy (or joy without pregnancy - I can't assume pregnancy is His will!) happen sooner.

I also just want to say that the image the Intercessors spoke of in the operating room and during recovery is really what I feel happened during surgery and after. When I went to Mass on Saturday evening before I left for Omaha, I was alone because my husband was at work. Upon returning from communion, I really prayed hard for God to help me with my anxiety about surgery, with the surgery itself, with recovery and with my overall infertility. I asked Him specifically to carry me. I've always heard that spoken about - Christ carrying you when you can't go any further on your own - but hadn't really experienced it myself. So I prayed, hard, that Christ would carry me. Before I knew it I was crying, which I didn't realize until my tears hit the pew in front of my which I was leaning over! Anyways, my prayer was answered. There is no other way to describe my experience before, during and after surgery. It's like my pain was muted; I felt some bad pain but it was easy to deal with. I was very happy, perhaps in the best mood I've been in for a while (I'm sure the pain medication had something to do with that!) and the whole experience just seemed easy, not to mention the wonderful success of the surgery itself. Christ definitely carried me, I'm sure of it, and the email from the Intercessors just reiterated this.

(I also just have to add one thing - I would really like to think of the image of the Blessed Mother handing baby Jesus to me as symbolizing a pregnancy, but what if it has deeper meaning? I'm going to pray about it, but right now I really like that a baby was included in their discernment!)

On another subject, let me just say that after four months of having virtually no chances of conceiving, I'm nervous to re-enter the world of monthly hopes and (possible) let-downs. My constant question (and that of many others, I'm sure) is whether to have hope or not have hope. Will not having hope make it hurt less? I've decided to, for now, have hope. Why? Simply because that's what I believe God wants for us. It may be hard, and it may hurt more initially, but ultimately I can't honestly say that God would want me to be hopeless. There's no way. So I can either be with God or on a path separate from God. So I may not always be full of hope, but I'm going to try. Plus, when I was recovering in Omaha and was pretty confident I'd be able to get pregnant (those darn pain meds again), I began to contemplate what I (once pregnant) would think about when I looked back on my infertility. Right now, it's safe to say I'd be ashamed of myself. I have resisted spiritual growth, I've fought carrying the cross, and I've been angry with God more often than not. If I do become pregnant, I want to be able to look back on my infertility as a time of great spiritual growth, a time when I was close to God and gave into His will. And I know deep down that's what God wants for me too.

My surgery

So I am now out of the hospital and recovering at my hotel in Omaha. My surgery went great! As Dr. Hilgers told my husband and aunt in the waiting room the surgery "was perfect," and it was a "10 out of 10." And when my husband asked if I'd ever have to have another surgery like this again Dr. Hilgers said, "How old is she? 31? No, she'll be pregnant by then." That's when my husband and aunt lost it.

The recovery so far has been okay. It's been pretty painful and uncomfortable at times. The worst part was not eating from Monday night until this morning (Thursday). I had broth yesterday, but that's not food. I am also very happy to have gotten rid of my IV! My incision is surprisingly not painful. I even showered today and it didn't hurt at all.

I also just have to say that I am so blessed. God is so good and He really protected me through this whole ordeal.

Well I am sleepy and due for some pain meds, so I'll write more about my surgery later. Right now I need to eat some ice cream and then fall asleep. Thanks to everyone for their many prayers. I really felt lifted up by all of them.

Leaving tomorrow, bright and early

Well I am now spiritually prepared for my big surgery. Tonight I went to confession and had an Anointing of the Sick.

I love confession, and just a few short years ago I would have thought you were crazy if you told me I would one day write those words. But since I went through a conversion a few years ago, I've learned what a wonderful opportunity it is to cleanse yourself and truly feel God's grace and forgiveness. So while in with the priest tonight I asked him if he could give me a special blessing ahead of my surgery on Tuesday. He said to find him after the 5:30 p.m. Mass and he would do an anointing, since there was another woman he was already planning to anoint. So I did, and it was beautiful. I've had it done before, once when there was a "community" anointing at my old church. I kind of did it that time for infertility in general. That was the first time I had heard that you could receive the sacrament for a number of reasons. You don't have to be dying, you don't even have to be sick in the traditional sense. You could have a "sickness" of the spirit, the mind, or the body. That day we were also told you could receive it on behalf of someone else. Anway, it's a beautiful Sacrament.

So I'll now finish my novena to St. Gianna, keep praying, and try to focus on God's promise to protect me. And I should also focus on the many, many people praying for me. From friends and family, to friends of friends and family, I truly have an army of people praying.

We head out tomorrow morning, at or around 6 a.m. hopefully, for our two-day drive. This is the worst part - the waiting for the trip to begin. That's when my anxiety really takes ahold of me. I need to trust God! I need to trust God! Okay, so that's my mantra for the next couple days. If I'm freaking out in the next couple of days I might post again, since it helps me relax. But if not, I'll do so when I'm feeling better.

My 'anxiety list' and a fleeting God moment

At various times throughout the day, I am a wreck. At other times, I am fine. I think part of my problem is I am so focused on myself, which is not a good thing for many reasons. I remember early on in my infertility I read something about suffering that suggested getting involved in some sort of volunteer work to help you focus on something bigger than yourself. Well, I think that's my problem right now. I need to focus on the big picture - that there are many people much worse off than me in life. People are dying, suffering, cold, abandoned, sick, you name it. I am just having a routine surgery - not to save my life, but to improve it. My aunt told me the hospital she works at does 10-20 laparotomies a day, and it's in a small city, so that helped put it in perspective for me too.

Speaking of my aunt, she is meeting us in Omaha and will stay with me the entire time I'm out there. That will allow my husband to go home for a few days of work, then fly back out on the following Monday in time for my post-op appointment. How nice is that of her? I need to remember her complete and utter generosity and try to do the same the next time an opportunity presents itself in my life. I don't know that I would even think of going above and beyond to that degree for someone. She's a really good person. My husband, meanwhile, feels really bad that he didn't take off the whole week. It was a difficult decision at the time because he had just started a new job and had already negotiated a week off a little over a month into his time there for an already-planned vacation. I have break-downs once in a while about him not being there, and I have probably made him feel really bad about it. I'm okay now though, because, as I told him, no offense to him but my aunt (a nurse) will take wonderful care of me.

So now, to be totally indulgent, I am going to list the things I am worried about to get them all out. I know myself, and if I keep things inside they tend to grow and take on a life of their own. Usually if I voice them (or type them in this case) they start to diminish. So here goes:

1) I'm afraid I'll die during surgery due to some sort of complication (I have had anesthesia twice now and have never had a problem, not even nausea, so I know there's nothing to fear. Plus Creighton is a great hospital)

2) I'll get a blood clot after the surgery and die of that (I think I read about this happening to someone somewhere, so I took it on as my own)

3) I'll be sick and lonely in the hospital at night (if that does happen, I'll get through it. This too shall pass)

4) I'll have to pee a million times while I wait for surgery and will have to keep dragging my IV to the bathroom (probably the most realistic of my fears, but it probably shouldn't be a fear, so to speak)

5) I'll be in terrible, excruciating pain and no medication will help (my sister-in-law described her post-C-section experience recently and so I began to fear a similar situation)

6) I'll wake up from surgery and be told that it was much worse than they thought and a)it couldn't be fixed, b)they had to do a hysterectomy, c)they found something else like cancer or any other horrible thing that could be found, d)I have to have another surgery, or, e)they'll tell me it spread to my lungs and/or brain. (Okay - Dr. Hilgers preserves fertility at all costs, he won't do a hysterectomy, and as for finding something else bad, I have had tons of blood work done, not to mention a laparoscopy, and have always been fine.. also, I got the lung and brain thing from a neighbor who told me it spread to her aunt's spine and can go to those places as while. Dr. Hilgers never mentioned this for me and I have no reason to fear it.)

7) The thing he's going to remove on my liver comes back as being cancer (as I've said in the past, if Dr. Hilgers even thought there was a 1% chance it was cancer he wouldn't have waited over four months to remove it, not to mention he never said anything about cancer and I'm quite sure cancer doesn't look like it does.)

8) I have to leave my dog Sophie at my in-laws and I will miss her terribly. (This I have to do, so it's not that I'm afraid it might happen, but you get the point. I cry at least twice a day about this. Misplaced emotion, maybe? I know she'll be okay - as long as she doesn't sneak out an open door - but it's her first time staying there so I worry. She's my baby!)

So that's it. Actually, as I was writing it I was amazed at how short the list is. When they're all swirling around in my head it seems like the list is endless. So this little exercise helped already! The other obvious thing that came to me while writing the list is this: If I had an ounce of faith I wouldn't be afraid of any of those things! I know fear is normal, but I really need to trust God more. Why can't I trust that he'll protect me? If the absolute worst possible outcome happens - death - then I'll be with Him! If I truly believed in Him and believed His promises, I wouldn't have so much anxiety. It all comes down to that.

Speaking of that, the other day I had a very brief glimpse into what I can only describe as wisdom. I was daydreaming and the thought popped into my mind that Christ will protect us always, from everything. That's nothing new, I hear it all the time and try to remind myself of it often. But it's usually just one of those thoughts that goes in one ear and out the other (which I now realize happens with 99.9% of things with me). Well, suddenly this concept made complete sense to me. Just complete sense. It was as if the words sunk deep into my soul and I heard it for the first time, and felt it. By the time it took me to think the thought, though, it was gone and I was thinking back about the amazing feeling and insight I had just had. It didn't linger, it seriously lasted maybe 15 seconds. But it was like God gave me a glimpse. And once you get a glimpse you want more! What if I felt that way all the time - like words made sense and I actually 'got' God's promises? That would be amazing. Not to be too over-the-top here, but maybe that's what heaven is like.

Anyway, I brushed it off shortly thereafter, because nothing really happened, but felt compelled to tell my husband last night while out for my birthday dinner. He immediately commented that things like that never happen to him and they seem to happen to me a lot. He said it was absolutely God's grace and I need to remember it. I'm glad I have him to remind me of that because I probably would otherwise forget experiences like this immediately (negative things are on constant rotation in my brain but the good moments get almost no air play).

So I am going to take this experience with me to Omaha. I believe it was God's way of allowing me to glimpse the way I should be feeling - the warmth of His protecting arms around me, no matter what happens. Seriously, what bad can happen to you when you have God? I picture him up there thinking, "She just can't get it on her own! Alright, let's give her a glimpse so she knows what she's missing." He must be really frustrated with me, but he obviously loves me because, for a few seconds, I really felt it.

It's just not fair

Well I haven't been doing too bad lately, but not great either. I have had many moments of despair, which I try to give up to God. I haven't been exactly sure what that means though, so I just say a prayer and try to envision handing my suffering over to Christ, letting it go. I'm not sure if that's what people mean by giving something up to God, but that's my version of it. It's kind of working. As I said, there have been only moments of despair, rather than days and weeks of it.

Two things have been bothering me lately though. The first is my upcoming surgery. For some reason I have anxiety about it. This isn't out of the ordinary for me because I usually find something to be anxious about. It's like I have a designated part of my brain for anxiety and when one anxiety inducing event (i.e. a plane ride) is over, my mind immediately finds something else to take its place. When I am momentarily happy I usually know something will come along to knock me down. I don't mean like God sends something bad my way, I actually mean my mind will suddenly focus on something negative and cause me to be anxious or depressed. I am definitely my own worst enemy. So right now, I am anxious about my surgery. The odd part is that I wasn't nervous about my laparoscopy in August and it went very well. This time, for some reason, I am scared something is going to go wrong during the surgery or in the days following. I think it might be because I recently moved away from my family and friends and in the six weeks of recovering it will be just me and my husband. Not that he won't do a good job of taking care of me, but I won't have my mom to take care of me, or others to come cheer me up. That thought usually makes me start crying lately. It could also be because I convinced my husband to let us drive out to Omaha this time around. Not having a flight to be scared about means I have to find something else to fear.

My other big issue right now is how unfair it is that everyone else can have children. I know how unhealthy and probably even sinful it is to think someone who is pregnant or has kids doesn't deserve them, but I have definitely thought this before. I try to fight it off when I start thinking it, but it's hard. The ultimate is 'why does God allow women to conceive who will abort their baby', followed by 'why does God allow child abusers to have children'. You can substitute in bad parents, people younger than me, people who have everything, etc., etc., etc. I know the answer to these questions (or at least I have heard many versions of answers) and I also know these thoughts only cause me more suffering, but it's still hard not to think them.

What's wrong with me (at least when it comes to infertility)

In past posts I've explained what has gotten me here but I haven't gone into detail about what's actually wrong. So here's where I stand now: I have stage 3 1/2 to 4 endometriosis which is on my appendix, ovaries, bladder and other various places around my abdominal cavity. It looks like black marks, except on my ovaries where it instead is in the form of cysts (not to be gross, but they're called chocolate cysts because they are filled with old blood). The cysts have caused my ovaries to appear several times their normal size and they are completely attached to my abdomen (they should be able to be moved freely with a tool during the laparoscopy). The cysts have also caused me to not release eggs. This was first discovered while having an ultrasound series done last July, and it was confirmed by Dr. Hilgers in August. The good thing, though, is that I am producing eggs. It's just that the cysts are completely in the way and so the eggs just basically shrivel up and die because they can't get out. I also have a web-like thing on my liver that Dr. Hilgers is going to remove during the laparotamy. He doesn't know what it is, which scared me at first. But then I realized that if it was something potentially serious he wouldn't have let me wait five months to have it removed. He is also going to take my appendix out during the surgery.

So all this time I haven't been ovulating. I have taken dozens of pregnancy tests over the last three years and I never had a shot at any of them. Dr. Hilgers said there's no chance, barring a miracle, that I can get pregnant before my surgery. This news was upsetting at first, but it's been kind of relaxing since then knowing that I don't have to worry about what day I'm on, if I've had enough mucus and if we're trying on the right days. It's been a bit of a break. But on the flip side, it's frustrating knowing that I just have to wait. There's no way I will get pregnant any time soon.

Dr. Hilgers also told me that my bloodwork shows I will need some hormone therapy following my surgery. He said the hormone levels that are off are due to stress. I couldn't believe it! Well actually I could. But what really surprised me was that simply de-stressing was not enough to regulate the hormones. I can relax all I want and I still need to take something.

So now there's less than a month to go until my surgery and I'm officially starting to get nervous. I'm not scared of the actual surgery. What makes me nervous is the physical pain immediately following and the emotional pain if I still can't get pregnant in the months following. That's why it is so hard to have hope. I am constantly protecting myself from potential future heartache. Hope really scares me. If anyone happens to read this (and makes it to this point) and has some advice on how to have hope in the face of possible heartbreak, please let me know.

On the bright side, a few months ago I wouldn't have been able to write any of this. I had absolutely no idea what was wrong with me and thought I could potentially never know for sure. So this is a step in the right direction. And I am thankful everyday that I've found the Pope Paul VI Institute. I know I am in the right hands and have the greatest chance for success that I can possibly have.

More on my story.. and thoughts on infertility

I had a bit of a breakdown today. It had to do with what my chances of conceiving will be after my laparatomy. Dr. Hilgers told us in August that it will be 50-60%, and for some reason I decided to break down about that today. In my mind, that is immediately translated to a 40-50% chance of not conceiving. I know I should be happy my chances of conceiving will be better than not conceiving. I'll try to think about it like that.

On another topic (sort of), I'll write a little more about myself. I am 30, currently unemployed and not sure what I want to do with my life (well, I want to be a stay-at-home mom, but we know how that's going). I grew up in Upstate New York, where I lived until this September. That's where I met my husband, when we worked together in t.v. news. I have since left television, but he still works in it, which is what brought us to Virginia, where we now live. I am not working due, in part, to my upcoming surgery at the Pope Paul VI Institute. Since we just moved here a couple months ago, we figured it'd be nuts to start a job only to take 6 weeks off right away. While I am doing a lot of relaxing, baking and playing with my dog, I am also using the time to work on a documentary I'm producing about the Catholic devotion of Perpetual Adoration. There was a Perpetual Adoration chapel where we used to live, where I was an adorer, and I think the fact that people are there 24 hours a day, 365 days a year is just amazing. I'm sure I'll write more about it in the future. The only other important things about me that I can think of are that I am an artist and staunchly pro-life.

Besides of all that, the best way to describe myself is that I am absolutely consumed by infertility. It's practically all I think about and it has dictated the last three years and two months of my life. I am perpetually sad and I wonder how I'll be able to live if it comes to the point where we have exhausted all of our medical options and I'm still not pregnant. Luckily, we're not there yet, but being a pessimist I am already distraught about that possibility. I try to put my faith in God, but that hasn't been going too well! I often feel like I have no hope and I find myself angry at God, which then makes me feel really guilty. It's just that I sometimes feel like God isn't helping me, like He has promised. To that, you could say, 'well you haven't completely trusted in Him!' And you'd be right. It's just that I know that bad things still happen to faithful Christians. There's a very good chance (or, more specifically, a 40-50% chance) that I will trust God and still never conceive a child. So how will I go on with my life? My husband says that if that were to happen, God will take care of me and I will still have joy in my life. Trusting in God doesn't mean that I trust he'll allow me to get pregnant, but rather trusting that He knows what is best for me. But right now I wholeheartedly believe that if I never conceive, I will never have joy in my life; I may have moments of happiness, but not joy. I guess believing what I have deemed impossible (whether that means conceiving a child or having joy without children) is what having faith is all about.

My story (it's long so feel free to skim)...

I've been thinking about writing a blog for some time now, and for some reason I have decided today is the day. I know I'll regret it later if I don't document my infertility journey as I go through it. If nothing else can come out of this, I hope that my story can help someone else. Since this all began I have found help hard to come by, so I hope that perhaps I can help to change that for others, in some tiny way.

So let me introduce myself in case anyone happens upon this blog. I am 30 years old, live in the Richmond, VA area (for only a few months) and have been struggling with infertility for three years now. I've probably been infertile for years, but I was married in September, 2004, and failed my first pregnancy test probably a month later. That's when I knew. How was I so sure? Probably because I'm a pessimist and because when, in college, I watched an episode of Party of Five where Matthew Fox's wife learns she's infertile I cried like a baby and thought, "That would be the worst thing ever. I'm afraid that might happen to me." So since then the fear of being infertile has been in the far back of my mind, but when it didn't happen right away I knew. Also, looking back, I had what I now understand to be endometriosis "attacks" several times since age 19, twice landing in the emergency room. I was always told it was gastrointestinal.

So after waiting the obligatory year to visit an OBGYN (I'm not even sure where I got that "rule" from, I didn't even try), I was put through all the regular tests, bloodwork, sonograms and six Clomid cycles. After those didn't work I was put on a waiting list for a fertility doctor known for all of his successful IVF cases. Being Catholic, IVF was not an option but my OBGYN really made me feel like if I didn't go, it was the end of the line for me ("and I must not really want a child if I won't do IVF." She didn't actually say that, but sometimes I think people think that.) So I sought the counsel of faithful friends who all agreed that it would be worthwhile to use the appointment as a "fact-finding mission." So we went and I knew I made a mistake when there were huge containers breathing dry ice smoke all over the hallways. A nurse told me they were doing housecleaning and, like I suspected, they were in fact frozen embryo containers.

The fertility doctor told me I needed a laparoscopy, but I decided not to have it done by him. I had, a few months earlier, begun learning the Creighton Model fertility care system through the Pope Paul VI Institute in Omaha, NE (I will post much more on that later) and after meeting with an educator who teaches you all about mucus and charting (and who was sent to us by God), all of my information was sent to Dr. Hilgers in Omaha. After he reviewed it he, too, determined I needed a laparoscopy. After a VERY long wait (a year from the time I began charting), I had a laparoscopy in Omaha in August '07. Upon waking up from the surgery, I was greeted by my husband (actually, they couldn't find him for a while.. he was wearing headphones when they paged him) who told me it went great - except for the fact that the endometriosis was so bad Dr. Hilgers couldn't do anything at that time and I would have to schedule a second, much more invasive surgery. I started crying and then, after many hours, realized it wasn't the worst news I could have gotten. My uterus is okay. My tubes are okay. My ovaries are sort of okay. My left ovary is 5-times its normal size and the right one is three times bigger because of the endometriosis - but they, underneath it all, are okay.

So, to wrap up this very long story... my second surgery is scheduled for January 8. I can't remember the name of it right now but it will take four hours and I will have to stay in the hospital for like three days. Dr. Hilgers says following this surgery and hormone treatment, our chances of conceiving will be between 50-60%. It could be a lot worse.

Now you know the clinical, factual side of my infertility journey, but there is much more to it. I'm also an emotional wreck, depressed, angry, hopeless, at times left wondering how I'll live without a child (because, as I said earlier, I can be a pessimist). Then there's the whole adoption issue. So much more to come!

Now for the most important part of this blog thus far (I told you you could skim)... a link to the Pope Paul VI Institute website. If you or someone you know is dealing with infertilty and hasn't sought their help, do so now:

http://www.popepaulvi.com/