I’ve had a long day, I’m beyond exhausted, and I’m emotional. All good reasons to update my blog at 1:10 am! I’ve talked about my fertility issues a little here and there and yall have listened to me pout, because let’s face it, every now and then I pout. I thought maybe telling the entire story would help me feel a little better today, maybe it will help me sleep.
Growing up I was always ahead of myself; I started school a year early, I made great grades up until high school (I didn’t care in high school), I’ve always thought myself to be more intelligent and more advanced than everyone else (even if I wasn’t always). When it came to blossoming into womanhood however I was far behind everyone else, I had 1 “period” at the age of 13 and didn’t have another until 4 days before my 16th birthday. I did however suffer cramps and discomfort quite frequently, but I was ill informed and no one in my family seemed to worry so why should I?
When I was 18 I went to a specialist, at the request of a friend of mine, and found out I have PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome) which causes cysts to form on the ovaries. Some of these cysts will rupture which causes terrible pain and are so annoying, some can need medical intervention, and some just go away and leave alot of scar tissue. It’s this scar tissue along with the hormonal imbalance that makes conception ridiculously hard for most and impossible for others.
Thanks to modern medicine more woman with PCOS are conceiving and having healthy pregnancies, but some like me, still have difficulties because the scarring is so bad. Medication can do wonders even for us, but it comes at a great risk. Some medications can cause more damage with prolonged use, and eat away at the uterus eventually making it too weak to carry a baby, other risks come in the former of heart attacks, strokes, kidney failure, liver disease, ectopic pregnancy (due to scarring), ect. Yet we take the risks, we take them to just be normal and fulfill our dreams of being pregnant and having our own child, like normal woman. It’s a terrible feeling to know you can’t do what a woman was designed to do, it makes you feel less human.
Like many before me I’ve opted to take the drugs, try the cocktails, and fight the good fight. Recently I lost the battle, I pray I can still win the war, but my heart is broken, my spirit is discouraged, and my faith tested. I’d been feeling sick, really sick, nauseous, smell sensitivity, exhaustion, vomiting, sore breasts and body. Due to my medication some of these symptoms are pretty normal, but I’d been sexually active lately and after a talk with my friends mother (let’s face it she’s pretty much my mom too lol) I took the dreaded pregnancy test. Negative. A big, fat, ugly negative stared me in the face. Skip forward about 3 or 4 days and I started having pain in my side, not unusual for me, I figured cramps like most woman. Well as a few days passed the pain got worse and I broke down and called my doctor, he had me come in and he ran some tests, an ultrasound being one of them. We found out I had an ectopic pregnancy, 2 words have never hit me so hard.
I was pregnant, my dream, my prayers, my wish, whatever you want to call it came true! I was pregnant, I little part of me and a little part of him, my heart was elated! But then the other word slowly crept in, the word I wish I hadn’t of heard, ectopic. A tubular pregnancy, which meant I wouldn’t be pregnant for long. I sat there and listened as my doctor explained what had to be done, how lucky I was that it was caught so early. Was I lucky? How can someone use that word at a time like that? I guess yes I’m fortunate that it was caught before my tube burst, but lucky? I still feel anything but lucky.
So many thoughts ran through my head, and still do, was this my fault? I’ve been under alot of stress lately and haven’t been taking care of myself properly, I’ve been running myself ragged to help my friend, and I’ve been working nonstop, did I cause this? Am I so bad of a person that God cursed me to give me my dream and take it away in a matter of an hour? Would I have been that terrible of mother? Logically I know this happened because of the scarring from the cysts, but emotionally I still can’t comprehend why.
I spend my life helping others, giving all I can and all I have to those that need it. I’ll run myself ragged and not really complain (ok I do complain but most of the time it’s in a joking way), so why couldn’t I have this? I’ve debated about giving up, maybe this is a sign it’s not suppose to happen, maybe I’m just not meant to be a mother. It makes it worse when everyone keeps saying what a great mother I’ll make, because all I can do is awkwardly smile and pray it even happens. I lost this battle and I’m not sure I have the strength or the heart to fight the war.
My strife in life is watching other people and my friends take their children for granted, to hear them complain about how terrible pregnancy is, to love my friends children so much while knowing I’m nothing more than mommy’s friend to them. There’s a good chance I’ll only ever be mommy’s friend, or aunt, or TT, and it’s a fact I need to face. I haven’t figured out how to fully function in my normal life again, I have great days with heartbreaking moments, horrible days with spots of joy, and I have days where I don’t know what I feel. I hear all of this is normal, it’ll eventually get better, but for now my heart breaks for what could have been and the child I’ll never know.
To all of you who have lost a child, no matter how early, I’m sorry. My heart and prayers are with you, I hope you can once again be strong and I pray you get your baby.
Thanks For Reading,