My Endo Story, Part 2

My next episode was about 6 months later. It was May and I was home from school for the summer. It was late at night, I had been woken up by severe pain in my lower abdomen, I came upstairs and was walking around trying to alleviate the pain. I ended up throwing up and nearly collapsing. I was very weak and scared. I was only 18 at the time. I remember slowly making my way down the hallway, crawling as best I could. I made it to my younger sister's room and woke her up, asking her to wake Mom and Dad for me, I knew I didn't have it in me.

My parents were very concerned, as was I. My mom ended up taking me to the ER. I remember being so embarrassed that I was being examined, as I was having my period. There was a bunch of doctors in the room, I would guess about 7 or so different personnel. They decided that I was being dramatic, that I was just having cramps. But they suggested I see a Gynecologist just in case.

I did. After telling him of my symptoms he asked if I had had any previous incidents like this one. Only then did I connect what had happened to me back in November. He seemed to be expecting that. He then began explaining Endometriosis to me. Telling me that it sounded like the beginning signs. He told me to expect it to get much worse, gradually at first, and then more often. He said it would eventually get to be every month, and then it could get so bad that I might have symptoms even when I wasn't on my period. He also explained to me that this illness greatly lessened my chances of having children. And that eventually I would likely have to have a hysterectomy.

I was horrified. For months I obsessed over my 'diagnosis' (it wasn't official yet, they could only diagnos for certain with Laparoscopy, right now it was just 'suspected'). I was constantly looking up information online and freaking myself out more and more. I was letting it take over my life. I was worrying whether or not I would ever have children, worrying about when the next episode would hit me and on and on. Luckily I had aome amazing friends that really helped me through things. Eventually I was able to move on a bit and not let it consume me.

The episodes got more and more frequent, but for me, I wouldn't say anymore intense. Maybe sometimes, but not in general. I was put on a constant loop of birth control (meaning that they had me skip the placebos and only take the active pills). Doing so helped a lot, it didn't fix things, but it made it easier to lead a normal life.

My Endo Story. Part 1

November 1999. I was in my first year of college. During my French class I started feeling really odd. I felt really nauseated, stabbing stomach pain, but mostly extreme light-headedness. After class I went into the restroom and sat on the floor trying to throw up, thinking that if I did, it would help me feel better. After an unsuccessful half hour or so I finally decided to just go home, I only lived a few blocks away. I splashed some water on my face and looked in the mirror. I was shocked by what I saw. I was ash white, gray really. My lips were gray also. It was very disturbing. I managed to make it about 50 feet or so. To a bench by the fountain, when I had to sit down again. By this time I was close to tears. I didn't know if/how I could make it home and I was praying that Heavenly Father would send some one to help me. Nearly immediately there was a girl talking to me, but I brushed her off and she left. And then I realized that she might have been the help I needed. Luckily for me a friend of mine came by on his way to class and stopped to help. He helped me stumble my way home. I spent much of the afternoon throwing up and being too dizzy to walk. I had several good friends around that offered their help and opinions as to what was wrong with me. We concluded that I must have been dehydrated.

I wasn't.

This was my first "episode" of what I now know as Endometriosis.

Non-Due Date

Today's post is a very personal one for me. I have debated whether or not to even publish it. I think I always knew I would, but it was easier to write when I convinced myself that I may be the only one who ever reads it. I am hoping that by sharing this side of me, others who have gone through this will see a part of their own story. And for those of you who haven't, maybe it will give you a bit of a glimpse of what it feels like to miscarry.

Today is my- should have been - my due date. It is here and I have nothing to show for it but a broken heart. I am so grateful for the two amazing children that I have, but that doesn't diminish the loss I feel for the baby I don't have. Right now I should be in a hospital bed cooing over little fingers and toes. I should be picking baby names and wondering how I am going to fit three car seats in our small car. I should be exhausted over sleepless nights and balancing children. I should be sending out birth announcements and picking a blessing outfit. I should be looking forward to first steps and first words.

Instead I find myself dwelling on what will not happen. I guess I should just get over it. But I can't. I don't know if I ever will. I think something like this stays with you forever. I hope so. I never want to forget the little one that I lost.

I often find myself pondering why. Why did this baby not make it? Was there something wrong with how it formed? If I get pregnant again will it be the same spirit or another one? Was that the only chance that spirit gets to come to Earth? Was the spirit already present at 14 weeks? Was it something I did? I did have two incidents RIGHT before. I have been assured that it was nothing that I did/didn't do that caused this. But I am not convinced.

I know so many women who have gone through this and I am so sorry for every one of them. Every time I hear that someone has lost a pregnancy my heart just breaks for them. I can't help but cry. It has been six months and sometimes it is still so raw. I am still jealous when I hear that another woman is pregnant. It doesn't hurt like it used to. But it does still hurt. At least now I am to the point where I can be genuinely happy for them, rather than just pretend like I am.

For me, this has been and overwhelming and emotional experience. I always thought that if I had a miscarriage that I would be logical about it. That miscarriages happen because the body is simply getting rid of an non-viable fetus. How stupid I was. How naive. I didn't take into account how torn apart it would make me feel. How empty. How lonely. As I have struggled these last few months with trying to get back to normal, I have realized that I will never be 'normal' again. I have had to find a new 'normal'. In many ways that is a good thing. I am more compassionate and understanding. More grateful of the two little guys I have been blessed with. More aware of how lucky I am, and what is really important to me. More appreciative of my husband's arm around me and his kind words.

As I sit here and type this, there are tears in my eyes for what I have lost, and for what I have gained. Hopefully, someday, I will have another child, but even if I don't, I have already been blessed so much. It seems so selfish to ask for anything more.

random crying

Today has been a very hard day. I know I haven't talked about much but this miscarriage has completely turned my life upside down. Church is the hardest. So many babies and pregnant women. I just dread going. I keep thinking that I have things under control and that I am getting over it only to start crying all over again. I sat there during the whole RS lesson (which was on hope) and just bawled. Mind you that we have only been in this ward a few weeks and I don't know anyone. So everyone is looking at me like 'who is this crazy lady?'. During the RS lesson one sister said spoke up about her miscarriage being a low point in her life and that totally resonated with me. I felt like I needed to let her know what I was going through. I went up to her after class and we just cried and bonded over what never was. It sucked. It was great. She then came to my house in the evening and brought me this beautiful poem and a picture of Christ cradling a tiny baby. We talked for a long time. Crying for a lot of it. It is just so nice to feel like other people really understand what I am feeling. I know a lot of women who have gone through this and I never had any idea of how hard it was. I have so much more admiration for anyone who has had a miscarriage. I always thought if it happened to me I would be logical and unemotional. Uh, yeah. Not so much. It isn't like I am a total wreck all of the time. I'm not. But anytime I tell someone who doesn't know I totally break down. I think that it is okay. I think that I need to be okay with random crying. Maybe I will become better at appreciating how blessed I am. "Come What May, and Love It."