It's been one of "those" days and it's only noon.
I went to see my endo specialist this morning, to talk about the possibility of surgery #4 or going on Clomid. He got to see my in my "finest" of shapes since my cycle started earlier this week and I could barely stand up straight. We did the endometrial biopsy to make sure that the cancer cells have not progressed any, which would not be a good sign for my fertility journey. To my readers who have not had the "pleasure" of going through with an endometrial biopsy, imagine if you will someone tearing a piece of your uterus out with needle-nose pliers.
In regards to my most recent miscarriage, according to the endo specialist, of "normal healthy" women's pregnancies, 8% will end in miscarriage. Gee, that's reassuring!
We can't do the Clomid for three reasons:
1) It may progress the endometrial cancer;
2) I don't have anovulatory cycles and I did manage to get pregnant which leads him to believe that the problem is not in egg production;
3) The risk of conceiving more than one child is too great, which means that the risk of pregnancy being life-threatening for me is increased dramatically.
Let me explain the last reason a bit better. As you may have read from an earlier post, I only have one functioning kidney, and that kidney is not at 100% functioning either. During a pregnancy, the woman's body is put under a lot of physical stress, including the kidneys. When I was pregnant with Jacob, I learned just how physically taxing the pregnancy would be for me. My blood pressure would frequently bottom out, I was vomiting around the clock despite being prescribed Diclectin, I had heart palpitations and suffered two kidney infections. For me to potentially carry twins or more would be very dangerous to my health. Which also means that IVF is out for the future, since your chances of twins or more is also greater in that case.
So the plan for now is to treat the pain once the cycle has begun with percocets. I had my bloodwork done with the CA-125 test added to it to make sure that the ovaries are healthy. I am to see him in a "couple of months" to determine if we should go ahead with surgery, but he would like for me to try managing the pain and keep trying to conceive rather than do surgery until it gets "really bad". Now, it is bad (the endo symptoms that have so far returned) but it's not as unbearable as it has been back when it was horrific prior to meeting this doctor. I know that I can live with the pain, I keep imagining the end-product in my arms, a sweet little baby to motivate me and drive me onwards.
I have mixed feelings about today. I'm sad but I'm also reassured that I have a really good and compassionate doc who is working WITH me. I want this so desperately and was really kind of hoping for the Clomid prescription, but what he said to me about my being a high-risk pregnancy with only a single baby, I know that no matter how much I want this that it's not worth putting my life on the line; I have Jacob and those that I love to also consider in this whole "big picture" too. So on the one hand I am crying tears of sadness to know that if natural methods fail to produce a child then it might not be possible to go through any ART (artifical reproductive technology) procedures. On the other hand, I'm content in at least knowing what cards exactly are on the table.
And even with all of this news, I am clinging on to hope. Whatever happens I already have the most wonderful gift in the world; people who love and support me. I have an amazing partner who declares that I am all that he needs and if it doesn't happen, then it doesn't. I have a beautiful little boy who thinks that he has a "great mommy" and he's also the centre of my universe. I will always remain hopeful that I can give my partner a child, and my son a brother/sister. Hope is something that allows for us to keep moving forward even in the face of the steep cliff-edge. Hope is something that must remain alive for without it, we have nothing driving us onwards, nothing to strive for, and live in the opposite of hope: despair. Personally, I choose happiness so I choose hope.