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Saturday, October 20, 2012

I Never Want to Be Pregnant

Under no circumstances do I want to be pregnant.  I do not want to have an oopsie baby after I adopt. I do not want to have a surprise pregnancy at age 43.  I do not want to do another letrozole cycle.

This does not mean I don't wish things were different with my body.  That I don't wish I had another body without a pain syndrome and uterine issues.  I still long to grow a round belly, feel kicks and punches from a little one inside me.  The desire, the longing, is still there.  But it's like wishing you hadn't broken your arm; it's broken and you have to deal with it.  Maybe you have to stop playing tennis forever.  Maybe the break is so bad it will affect you the rest of your life.  You can spend your time wishing you weren't limited physically or you can adjust your expectations. 

My decision to forever stop TTC didn't happen overnight.  A few weeks after my surgery in March, even though I was still in extreme pain, I was scheduling a 3D sonogram appointment to prepare for my next letrozole cycle.  I was optimistic.  I didn't know this kind of pain syndrome even existed.  Who has heard about pelvic floor muscles unless you've given birth or are 80 years old?  I hadn't been aware of mine.

Needless to say, I had to cancel the 3D sono appointment, which was just one of the many things that has given me pause since March.  If I couldn't schedule it at that point, then when?  The next month?  Three months from now?  (Correct answer is none of the above.)

My thinking shifted gradually.  I'd felt unsure about trying for pregnancy #3, anyway.  Pregnancy #2 ended around 7 weeks last fall.  The chromosomal testing came back normal, and my doctor thought the miscarriage was related to a structural problem with my uterus.  Supposedly the structural issue was fixed by my last (catastrophic) surgery, but who really knows?  Why tempt fate?  Why put myself in the position to lose another baby when my heart has been shattered twice already?

As the months ticked by after the surgery, I stopped planning for my next RE appointment.  I had a brand new, all-consuming shitstorm with that wasn't TTC-related:  chronic pain.  But in spite of that, I started living again.  I ate what I wanted:  suddenly, soy is ok again!  Dairy is not evil!  No need to go gluten/nut/coffee/sugar-free for fostering the ideal environment for baby to stick around!  I didn't know what cycle day I was on.  I didn't cry in the bathroom when my period arrived and then fill my grief with baked goods.  Not TTCing has been one of the most freeing things in the world.

Before The Surgery to End All Surgeries, I'd had difficulty conceiving and two miscarriages, and I hated TTCing.  The IF blogosphere is filled with people like me who keep trying, understandably, for their take-home baby.  Chronic pain is what did me in.

I'm kind of an old pro with intermittent pelvic pain.  I've had horribly painful periods since I was a teenager, which turned out to be endometriosis that was probably contributing to my infertility (huge surprise—not).  But the painful periods were only for a few days a month.

The pain I have now is all the time.

I've never experienced any kind of chronic, day-to-day pain other than run-of-the mill tendinitis or other exercise-related aches.  This is completely new.  If I hadn't gone through infertility and loss, I'd say this is the hardest thing I've ever gone through.  So it's a close third.  The pain tries to shatter me.  Not one aspect of my life is untouched:  my relationships, my job, my sleep.  My sanity.

I've used about 130 hours of sick leave for the pain since March.  I missed my nephew's first birthday party and my niece's summer ballet recital.  My demeanor has been irritable and prickly for the most part, even if at first I appear pleasant.  A smile or pleasant conversation does not mean I'm not in pain or will not suddenly lash out at something.  Or just lose track of what you're saying as I plot my next attempt at pain relief.  My pain level is usually pretty high but I'm trying, trying ever so hard to pretend it doesn't exist.  The irritability is usually unleashed on my husband, and when I immediately apologize and explain that my pain level is really high, he is understanding.  But he doesn't deserve this.

I go to PT weekly and usually have one other doctor's appointment during the week; it's a big time-suck.  At these appointments, I've asked about my prognosis, of course.  My healthcare providers don't like this question because they don't know the answer.  They hem and haw a bit, and say we'll have to wait and see, "ask me again in a few weeks."  The two physicians I've asked are both pelvic pain specialists, and both have predicted that I would "probably" be fine with a pregnancy.  That pregnancy hormones tend to have a calming influence on my syndrome. 

Fine.  But what about the ENTIRE REST OF MY LIFE AFTER THE PREGNANCY?  Will the changes wrought by pregnancy and childbirth wreak havoc on my already fucked-up body?

The physicians haven't given me a real answer for that.  My PT has given it to me straight, though.  She says she's seen it both ways:  some people with my issues have a pregnancy that goes ok and they feel fine afterwards, and some do not.  I didn't ask her to elaborate much because I don't even want to hear about patients who have it worse afterwards; I cannot imagine their pain.

I'm not a risk-taker.  Not that anyone knows statistics for outcomes of women with uterine abnormalities who have undergone surgeries and go on to develop chronic pelvic pain and then go on to have pregnancies, but I've thought a little about what kind of odds I would bet on:  at what odds of worsened pain in the future would I consider getting pregnant again?  What if 50% of women like me felt ok during the pregnancy and then, postpartum and beyond, felt even better than before the pregnancy?  50/50 odds.  No way in hell I'd do it.  What if 90% felt great afterward?  Nope, still wouldn't do it. 

I cannot conceive (pun intended) of a future filled with this kind of pain.  It's been going on for 7 months already and I don't know how I've done it.  People comment on how strong I am to have dealt with this for so long, but I don't feel strong.  I just feel like myself....in severe pain.  It's day-to-day living now.  I try not to plan too far in advance.

If I can't find a way to decrease my pain level before I have a child, I cannot be the kind of mom I want to be.  I physically could not handle the sleep deprivation that comes with a newborn; less sleep = more pain.  I would be glued to the couch, not on the floor playing with my baby or walking around to soothe her at night.  I couldn't take her for walks in the stroller or teach her to ride a bike.  I would have trouble attending her soccer games; sitting up for a couple of hours hurts too much.  Worst of all, I could not be the emotionally supportive, stable, fun type of mom I want to be.  It would not be possible.

The decision not to TTC is easier knowing that adoption is a possibility.  But even if adoption wasn't on the table and our remaining option was childfree living, I would have to choose childfree living over TTC.  Why in the world would I choose *possibly* having severe pain the rest of my life?  My (hopefully) future children would be worse off for it, my family and husband would struggle with me, and I would constantly fight the pain demon.

When I started this post, I'd intended to write even more, tell you about how in my previous incarnation, I ran a half marathon at an 8:10 min/mile pace.  Now I can hardly walk a mile once a week.  I'd wanted to tell you that I do still grieve for the loss of my husband's and my biological child, the little blonde boy who looks like his dad.  Also, I could write for days about how you don't know until you've been there what kind of decisions you'd make when you've had pain that reaches an 8 every day, sometimes staying there for hours at a time.  And it goes on for months and months, possibly years.  But I've written enough for now. 

For all of these reasons, I will never pursue pregnancy again.  I love myself too much and won't knowingly put myself in harm's way.  I want more out of life than appointments, pills, and this seemingly endless gnawing, burning pain that is trying to eat me alive.

18 comments:

  1. This is heartbreaking to read and I wish that this pain was not part of the equation. But, I would have made the same call. You are doing what is right for your health. I made a promise that another ectopic or dangerous pregnancy and I was off TTC permanently as well. A bridge I wish no one had to cross.

    I hope for improvement and more good days than bad. It is too much for anyone and as strong as you are, I would prefer all of this strength to amaze you in hindsight. Relief and peace, my dear. You are amazing and wonderful and deserve the family to share it with.

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    1. Thank you. It's an odd place to be in after trying so hard for a pregnancy, putting every last bit of energy into trying to be fertile. I'm comforted that you don't think I'm crazy for stopping.

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  2. Understandable given what you've been through. I hope that I too will be able to move on to something else to occupy my time soon.

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    1. Thanks :) I badly hope that we both get some relief soon.

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  3. You've been through such difficult times, but I'm glad to see that you're taking care of yourself first, and I appreciate that you continue to share your experiences with us.

    I was thinking of you recently when the news did a story on chronic back pain sufferers. I know your pain is not in your back, and I don't know that this could ever help you, but in case it's helpful, here's a link: http://video.msnbc.msn.com/nightly-news/49440055/#49440055

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    1. Fascinating video--I'd never heard of that technology. I wonder if they ever do that kind of thing for pelvic issues. I would think if the nerve was accessible and not too internal, it'd be possible. So comforting to see that I haven't yet tried everything. Thanks! :)

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  4. I'm so sorry for your pain and the decisions you were forced to make. I know at some point a lot of women have to make the decision to stop TTC in order to reconcile their situation and it may not be physical pain, but it's painful.
    I commend you for putting yourself and your possible future comfort first. It's a hard place to be and you are doing what you think is best for you and your husband. I wish you didn't have to make this decision.
    I will continue to hope and pray you find your solution.

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    1. Thanks, Alissa. Yeah, I feel for anyone making the decision to stop TTC--you're right, the emotional pain is substantial. Thanks for your support!

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  5. I'm sorry for your pain. I know how difficult it is to choose to stop trying to conceive. I'm thinking of you and hoping that your pain eases.

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    1. Thanks, Anna. I'm so encouraged to see you moving forward with adoption--inspires me to get going!

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  6. I am saddened to read this and happy for you at the same time. I think coming to terms with things makes it easier to bare. I commend you on all your strength needed to get through this last year. May next year be a better year for you!

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  7. I am saddened to read this and happy for you at the same time. I think coming to terms with things makes it easier to bare. I commend you on all your strength needed to get through this last year. May next year be a better year for you!

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  8. One of the biggest miss conceptions is that one needs to be pregnant and give birth in order to truly be a mother. As hard as this post is to read for many, I view it as your manifesto for finalizing TTC and moving forward with your life. This decision is a hard one on so many levels and one that I wish you didn't have to make. But at the end of the day I really do believe by making the choice to move forward and live, you are opening the road that will lead you to your children. That you are choosing to live means are already a mother and one that I know your children will be proud of. Sending love and light to you and hoping the adoption process is a smooth one.

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  9. I am so sorry to hear this. I know this is ot a decision you came to lightheartedly and is truly a testament to your pain. I wish relief for you. Xoxo

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  10. I can fully understand this decision. The way you put it makes so much sense. I am excited for your adoption journey, and for moving forward.

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  11. After following your blog for several months and hearing about all of the pain that you have endured, I can totally understand why you would come to this decision. You have been through so much pain already. I am so happy that you are being true to yourself. I am looking forward to hearing all about the adoption process because I have always been very interested in adoption. Hugs to you, girlie.

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  12. Right on. I love this post - I totally get it. I'm through with TTC myself, it's over. We are totally through. The pain that I already endure with endo is ENOUGH. I can't go through months and months of more pain related to everything TTC.

    Like you, I have resolved that my body and pregnancy do not mix, and I have made peace with this. Have I grieved this? Absolutely. Am I regretful of my decision to never TTC again? Hell no.

    Congrats on reaching this point!

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  13. This is a brave step and every girl comes to this point when she got this great opportunity to born a child.

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