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Saturday, June 23, 2012

Dear Body: We Need to Talk

Hey girl.  I know you're having some rough times.  Let's talk about what's going on.

You're upset, understandably, from repeated assaults by surgery and endo.  I am partly to blame, but we need to come to an understanding about how to work things out.

I've taken pretty decent care of you over the years.  I'm sorry about the binge drinking in college—that wasn't cool.  But I cleaned up my act pretty nicely and turned into a half marathoner and triathlete, and I appreciate your allowing me to do these.  We worked well together and I think I should get some credit for pursuing such healthy hobbies. 

Tendinitis helped me realize that I needed to take care of you a little differently than before, with a little less impact, and I switched to yoga.  You thanked me and we had a nice routine going on for a while there.

Let's talk about food.  I was a vegetarian for 13 years, and going back to meat hasn't changed my overall outlook on food.  I believe in breakfast, lunch, dinner, and two snacks, and I think you'd agree we have a good thing going.  No issues there, right?  Lots of fruits and veggies?

Good.  That brings me to my key complaint.  You're probably thinking it's going to be infertility.  Good guess, but something else is bothering me even more than that.  So let's set infertility aside for the moment and talk about pain.

I'm certain that some of my choices have led us to this impasse.  First, I let endo have its way for a while because I didn't believe in the Pill.  Mistake.  I realize now that I should have stayed on the Pill up to the month we wanted to get pregnant, but I didn't know that then.  I'm sorry.

I tried to fix the endo situation by having the laparoscopy last year.  My intentions were pure, but I'm pretty sure you hated the surgery even more than you hated the endo.  I had no idea you'd react that way to laparoscopic surgery.  I've never heard of someone taking 3 months to recover, so I'm not sure how I would have anticipated that.

Then I got greedy.  I tried again to get pregnant.  And I didn't just try, I used letrozole.  It worked, and we were pregnant again.  And then we weren't.  Not to be flip, but...you sure showed me.  You showed me that it was a sign of hubris to try for a biological child again after I knew a uterine septum was present.  Maybe that was the cause of the miscarriage or maybe it wasn't, but I feel dumb for not getting more opinions about the septum.  Dumb and completely, totally heartbroken.

Your downfall was really in full swing by that point.  A few months after having the contents of my uterus sucked out again, we brought out the hardware again.  I had my doctor trim back my septum and some scar tissue and remove a polyp.  And you hated it.

I don't think you've ever felt the same after that surgery in December.  I'm thankful to blogging in that it provides a record of just how badly I was doing in January and February.  I made a lot of excuses for why I didn't feel great, letrozole this and post-op recovery that, but in retrospect you were sending me signals, loud and clear.

I'm sorry for going back in for surgery in March.  I'm sorry for agreeing to the uterine balloon.  I don't know why I wasn't getting your signals.  On second thought, I do know.  I said I wouldn't drag infertility into this discussion, but I'm going to for a second.  I'm really, really angry at you for not giving me a child.  I know it's not my due, I don't deserve a baby more than anyone else, and infertility is just one of those unlucky conditions.  But I did all these interventions, each surgery and procedure, for the chance of having a child.  I can see now how much I was risking in terms of your health, but I couldn't give up.  I still kinda hate you for not following through on what we're born to do—reproduce.

So I got the balloon and then received your response to it.  Yeah.  Got it.  And I'm still getting it.  You're sick and fucking tired of it all.  We're in this position because of choices I made, because I had some dream that I was willing to risk everything for.

I get that I went too far, but we need to reach a level of understanding.  I can't give you more of the things you need in my current condition.  I can't exercise, cook for myself, or sleep well.  My cortisol levels must be through the roof when the pain is flaring.  I can give you some of the healthy things you need if you back off. 

How about I promise to really consider your needs when I make decisions about a possible baby in the future?  I can't promise that I won't try again.  I'm sorry.  But you've reminded me how critically important it is to keep you working and functional, and above all, healthy.  I won't forget it.

So please consider backing down.  Message received; I made some poor decisions.  I was doing my best with the information I had at the time, but I could have paid more attention to your needs.  Now that the damage is done, literally, we need to find a way to coexist and hopefully get along.  Truce?

Love,
D   

27 comments:

  1. Thanks for stopping by my blog. I'm sorry you're having such terrible struggles. I hope that your therapies start helping you heal soon!

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  2. I am so sorry for what you've been through. I often wish my body was a logical entity I could negociate, although I don't know I could produce such a logical serieis of arguments...

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    1. I know. I really wish I had some negotiating power here!

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  3. I sooooo get what you are talking about with pain! I haven't had all the surgeries you have, although I have had several that took way too long to heal. I am VERY lucky that I have an awesome primary care doc who works really well with my specialists so that he can effectively manage my pain. Sometimes that has meant weekly appointments, sometimes every six weeks. After reading your posts, and those of several others, I realize just how lucky I have been.

    I am keeping you in my prayers, as I am laying on the couch. Sometimes I can't decide which I hate more, the pain, or being stuck on the same stupid couch. I am not looking forward to another surgery, but at least I have the hope that I will be able to be relatively pain free when I am all healed from it.

    Feel free to come visit me at poetrysansonions.blogspot.com

    Julia

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    1. YES, I hear you about being tired of the same stupid couch. I'm sorry you're dealing with pain, too. I'm jealous that your PCP helps manage your care. Not having someone to take charge of my care is one of the most frustrating things I'm dealing with.

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  4. I love this entry. I am sorry you are enduring so much pain. I get excruciating pain every month inside my right hip bone. I pop Aleve like it's my job and suck in air to steady myself. I often have to lay down until the pain subsides. I used to believe that if I suffered like that I should get the baby payoff. My acupuncturist told me the spot tht hurts is related to the uterus. Clearly my uterus has something to say too. Maybe we could get our bodies on skype and they can work out their issues together. Good luck slowing down long enough to heal both physically, emotionally and spiritually. Sending you healthy baby thoughts as well. Thanks for visiting my blog. H

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    1. Ha--our uteruses (uteri?) definitely need to talk. Maybe they could grab a drink together--sounds like yours needs help laying off, too. Thanks for stopping by!

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  5. I'm so sorry you've been going through all of this, it is so unfair when your body is completely out of sync with the rest of you. Here's to hoping you can have a peaceful truce!

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  6. Ugh. Blogger ate my comment. Stupid blogger.

    Okay, abbreviated version: Stucks to be at war with your body. I hope with this olive branch, things start to get better very soon. In the meantime, thinking of you and sending lots of love. My the second half of 2012 be better for both of us.

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    1. Blogger's been eating a lot of my comments, too.

      The second half of 2012 has to get better for us...right? I'm optimistic.

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  7. I tried writing my poem to my knee. I had forgotten until I saw your post. If you want a laugh, it didn't work with my knee, apparently it has no appreciation of poetry. lol

    http://poetrysansonions.blogspot.com/2012/02/ode-to-knees.html

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    1. Well, shoot. I'm sorry the poem didn't work for your knee. It was a nice try!

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  8. I hope you and your body come to a truce very soon. Sometimes I feel the same way and wish I could change it in for a new and more fertile one. Only in my dreams I guess. Sending you lots of pain-free thoughts!

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    1. Me, too. I fantasize about getting a dual ovary/uterus transplant from a fertile friend.

      Thanks for stopping by!

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  9. Sorry that you are still in pain. I too went through a laparoscopy recently, earlier this month, and soon I'll be starting the letrozole well whenever AF shows up. I hope that things improve for you soon.

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    1. Laps are much harder on our bodies than the doctors lead us to believe, don't you think? Hope you're healing well.

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  10. I really hope your body gets the memo and backs off on the pain. I cannot imagine juggling all that you have been recently. Between the constant pain and continued attempts to conceive, I think it's nothing short of amazing that you keep it together so well, and with such a great sense of humor! I am slightly in awe of you, to be honest.

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    1. Thanks. I think the only reason I'm keeping my shit together right now is Prozac. Seriously.

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  11. Great post. If you cant fight it, join it. Sounds like you're getting in touch with your body. I hope it cooperates now with your love and support. :)

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  12. Thank you for stopping by my blog... and I'm so sorry that it's taken me this long to get back to you :( I've been on a little unexpected break. Love your post... and can completely relate to it :) Thinking of you and hope your body gets with it soon :)) xoxo

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    1. I know--don't you wish our bodies would listen to us? Thanks for your comment!

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