“Do you have any kids” is usually a question asked when meeting someone initially. Those uttered words are a shank stabbing me in my gut. “No, I don’t have any children” is how I use to answer. I learned this sentence engages people to probe more.
I resent my early adulthood when I swore off children. I wanted nothing to do with them, vowing to never have them. Too self-involved. Too carefree to be responsible for someone else’s life. Funny how somethings never change. Here I am, years later and I can’t be around them. When I am, I tend to burst into tears because there is nothing I long for more than a baby in the house.
Whirl Wind Circus
The whirl wind circus began in my early twenties, oddly enough. It began out of the blue, I had normal menstrual cycles up until that point. Then all at once abnormal menstrual cycles erupted. The cycles j-u-s-t wouldn’t s-t-o-p. Oh’ its more than that, (SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH IF YOU GET SQUIMISH) I had large blood clots, averaging the size of my palm. Multiple times a day. I bled thru the tampons every twenty minutes. I could feel the blood ooze down my legs and soaking thru my undergarments and outergarments. Then eventually consent. I would have to take a backpack to work with clothes. I had to change several times a day with hopes my fellow employees did not catch on. When I slept, I would wake in a puddle of blood. This continued non-stop. It was a new kind of living hell.
I sought medical advice. The OB/GYN suggested I go onto birth control. All of my independent studies suggested most women should steered away from birth control, but I complied. I was on the Depot shot. My symptoms went away. A solid three months. Just like that, three solid months later the symptoms returned but much worse.
I sought help again, the OB/GYN suggested I have a vaginal ultra sound. After the ultra sound, I went home. I lay napping on the couch when my phone rang. It was a nurse who sounded frantic. She said “well, your ultra sound came back. I’ve never seen a cyst so big in my entire life. I mean the Dr. would like to speak to you”.
I had an operation removing the 19cm massive cyst, non-cancerous. The medical professionals named it a severe case of Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) I felt I was freed for about 5 months. The symptoms re-emerged. I knew what it was. I didn’t like this game. I returned back to the OB/GYN as if it were groundhog day.
I had another operation now removing a 21cm cyst. Except this time, she had to take ½ of my right ovary. I probed about having children; she felt confident enough with IVF, I would be able to have children.
Three years later, I lay on the gym floor. I felt a pulsating sensation on my stomach. I hurry home and show my husband, who has years of medical field under his belt. He calmly felt my stomach and said “babe, we need to go to the emergency room”.
I knew exactly what it was… it was a tumor that kept re-growing. Another ultra sound under my belt. This time, this one was big bad and scary. This time, I had to have an Oophorectomy (removal of both ovaries), otherwise, it would just keep reappearing its ugly head. Apparently, this was an emergency surgery. I could not of frozen my eggs because of how large the tumor was, and time. All that was left is a gnarly scare, and the inability to bare biological children.
After the surgery I felt depleted as a woman, as a wife. I felt a loss like no one’s business. I lay awake crying for hours. I was grieving the loss of a child I would never be able to bring into this world. I began to slowly cut off all those who had babies. I couldn’t deal with myself. I was in a deep depression. The universe took away the only simplistic thing I could ever of wanted.
The Journey Begins
This is how the journey begins to parenthood. A complicated mess. A roller coaster of emotions. Welcome to my journey to becoming a parent…