Capable.
Determined.
Able to power through – no matter what.
The last few days though, that has all come into question. My pain levels are up far beyond what they’ve been in the last year. Starting to border on where they were before both of my surgeries in fact.
And I am scared.
Scared because I’m terrified of something happening to ruin this cycle. A cyst bursting, or inflammation that makes my insides so toxic my ice babies couldn’t possibly stick.
Scared because I fear that as the estrogen I’m giving myself increases, the pain will as well.
And scared because I simply do not want to be this woman. The one in pain. The one incapable. The one who can’t fight back.
I’ve spoken to Dr. RE and my regular OBGYN in the past 2 days. Both think the increased pain is likely due to the estrogen patches, and that unfortunately – there isn’t much they can do for me at this point. Both were incredibly sympathetic and understanding, and pain pills were offered, but… I don’t want to be popping pills for this. I’m already concerned about the toxicity of my insides and how that might affect my lining. I’m already staying away from booze and caffeine and most yummy goodness. I’m already going out of my way to ensure that my body is as healthy as humanly possible – and I just think that if I start popping pain pills now, that’s only going to work to counteract everything else I’ve been doing to keep my system clean.
Plus, I already have a drawer full of prescription pain killers. I don’t need any more.
So, I’ve refused the pills, and beyond that; there isn’t anything they can do to help. They can encourage me, remind me why I’m doing this, and hope that I’ll be able to pull through and that all this extra inflammation won’t cause one of those endometriomas to burst (which if you’ve never been through it, is one of the most painful things you can ever imagine experiencing – I’ve been there twice now); but they can’t medically do anything to help.
Not if I’m refusing pain pills.
And so, it’s one of those situations where I’m kind of on my own. Where I just have to grin and bear it. At least in terms of the pain.
Now, I'm telling you right now that this increased pain will all be worth it if I wind up with a baby in my belly at the end of this. If I get those two lines, nothing else will matter. I will have my dream, and all the struggles to get there will be entirely worth it.
But in the meantime, I’m stuck carrying around a heating pad and trying to do anything and everything possible to distract myself from the pain.
(Courtesy of Google Images)
It’s a freaky thing when you can literally feel your ovaries. When they actually ache to the point where you're afraid they’re going to explode. When that pain radiates all the way around to your low back – making it uncomfortable to even stand up straight.
And to think – I still have at least 3 more weeks of this.
The truth is I don’t talk about my endo or my pain as much here as I probably could. For so many reasons, I try to shove it to the back of my mind. I don’t want it controlling me, or my life. I don’t want it defining me. Besides, even if I did talk about it more - it would really be much of the same. Over and over and over again. It's not like the pain changes, or gets easier to deal with. It just is what it is.
And as much as the pain hurts, the infertility aspect is still the more pressing issue in my mind. It’s the issue my endometriosis has caused that really hurts me the most.
The pain is there though, and it does affect every aspect of my life. Especially times like now, when I’m all but incapacitated by a flare up that I cannot control.
That I cannot relieve.
That I cannot simply will away.
I was reading a post by one of my favorite new bloggers last night, and she had me in tears. Here is a girl who has literally done everything right. The diet, the exercise, the lifestyle; she’s followed all the rules. She has gone out of her way to fight off endometriosis and has lived her life being clean about every little thing that goes into her body (as if it wasn’t obvious enough; she is clearly in far better shape than I have ever been or will ever be in). And yet, here she is; being taken out by her endo pain. Being torn down by it. Feeling defeated and broken and hopeless.
Coming to the realization that no matter what she does, she cannot control this.
And my heart broke for her as I read that last night, both because I have been there many many times before, and because right now; I can literally feel her pain.
This disease is cruel. It is cold, and callous, and calculated.
Honestly, endometriosis is a bitch.
And there is nothing you can do about it. It affects all women in different ways, and there are varying degrees and levels, but the fact of the matter is that it’s an awful disease – no matter what. I’ve only been sick for two years. That’s it. And in that time everything has changed. This disease has taken so much from me.
It has rendered me incapable on many different occasions.
Incapable of conceiving.
Incapable of fighting through the pain.
And incapable of being the girl I used to be.
There are no cures. There aren’t even solid answers about what causes it. No one can tell me why my case has been so extreme, or why I don't seem to respond to treatments very well.
What is known about endometriosis is very limited.
This disease is brutal, and all anyone can offer me right now are pain pills.
Or squirrel poop.
I want to be a mother. More than anything in this world, I want to be a mother. If a genie popped out of a bottle tomorrow and told me I could have one wish, it would be for this next round to work. For me to get my 2 lines and my baby in my arms at the end.
But if I were given a second wish?
Another chance to make all my dreams come true?
I would find a way to beat endo.
For me, and every woman like me.
For good. Forever. For always.
