More drugs to ‘fix’ things

We’re going to change my antidepressant.  I knew it weeks ago (in fact, I probably mentioned it in some long, wordy blog post) but what I was on was just not working.  Well, now the overpriced psychiatrist finally agrees with me.  So we’ll try a new pill.

I should be delivering a beautiful baby girl in 3 weeks and a new pill is supposed to make it better that I won’t ever get to hold her?  It’ll make it better that she was scraped out of me on Mother’s Day at 16 weeks gestation instead of me laboring with her and hearing that first cry.  Some pill is going to make me not hate my body and hate myself every day for the rest of my life?  Doubtful.

The psychiatrist asked about my daily schedule and how I function.  I don’t.  All I do is take care of Sweetie.  That’s all I have the strength for and many days I barely have that.  We were supposed to go to all these fun classes together this fall- half the time we don’t go because I just can’t face other people and every class but one we signed up for has a pregnant woman or a woman that brings her little infant and her toddler.  Some days we get in the car and drive to a park and we turn around and go home if I see other people there-  other mothers with multiple children, other mothers who are pregnant.  I just can’t do it.  It’s just another way that I’m ruining her life- not only does my body kill her siblings, my f*cked up mental state is taking her away from playdates, classes and library storyhours.

Sweetie is too beautiful and sweet and lovable.  She’s all I live for and I don’t think that’s good for her anymore.   Every moment I look at her I know that having me as a mother is going to mess her up.  I’m just too far gone.  I look at potentially having a surrogate carry another baby for us and I don’t even know why I think I deserve that, why I should have more children when I know what I’m like inside now?  Broken.  Shattered.  Beyond fixing.


It’s my body, right?

I called and talked with my OB last week.  I had my RE send her the copy of his report detailing the scar tissue that has now taken over my uterus.  We aren’t currently seeing eye-to-eye on what’s next for me and my body.

What decisions are we allowed to make about our bodies and how do doctors figure out how to ‘do no harm’?  I remember one Grey’s Anatomy episode where a guy hates his foot and he wants the doctors to remove it.  The doctors say that it’s a perfectly healthy foot, so they refuse him.  The guy borrows a chain saw and cuts it off himself so that they are forced to listen to him.

Ok, it’s extreme (and you may be able to convince me that not everything that happened on Grey’s is realistic :)), but I really feel that way about my uterus right now.  I want it gone.  I have had too many babies die in my uterus, too much pain caused by that organ, and I just want it gone.

Is this such a leap to take?  (warning- TMI)  If I don’t do anything, the Asherman’s may significantly affect my cycle, I was already struggling with not having any cycle almost 10 weeks post D&C.   It’s possible the scar tissue holds in the lining that you should shed each month and that can cause endometriosis (or make endometriosis worse in my case since I already have it).  Before these last miscarriages, I had heavy cycles and pain.  I was told it would be at least 2 surgeries to try to remove scar tissue and prevent it from returning- on top of months of estrogen therapy (which isn’t good given the endometriosis and family history of cancer).  Really, how much more do I have to try to work through with this?

If I don’t do anything, I also worry that I will get pregnant again when I don’t intend to do so.  I have gotten pregnant so easily in the past that I don’t trust going without birth control.  Between my unknown cause of Recurrent Pregnancy Loss and the scar tissue that’s clouding my uterine cavity, it’s probably almost a 99% chance I would miscarry.  I don’t want to leave that as an option.  I can’t move on and try to accept my life if that’s still a possibility to miscarry again.  The only reason I can accept never getting pregnant again as ‘ok’ is because it brings the benefit of never miscarrying again.

So I just want a hysterectomy.  I feel like that will give me closure.  I will know with certainty that I can never get pregnant again nor can I miscarry again.  We are already walking the journey of surrogacy.  I just feel like I will be able to heal better mentally and emotionally.  I wouldn’t have to have my ovaries removed, so there wouldn’t be the hormonal effects.

So, when I even broach the topic of preventing pregnancy with my OB, she said would not even consent to tying my tubes yet.  That kind of blew me away.  I know that a hysterectomy is a drastic move, but she won’t even consent to tying my tubes?  She reminded me that I only have one child (um, thanks, like I don’t think about this 2,000 times a day) and I’m still ‘young’.  Ok, I’m getting extremely close to advanced maternal age, so I hardly put myself in the category of young.

So when do I get some choice over what happens in my body?  The really f’ed up thing is that my husband could go into a clinic and schedule a vasectomy tomorrow with great ease.  And I could choose to have multiple surgeries on my uterus if I wanted to remove scar tissue, but I’m not allowed to have surgery to remove it?  Or to make a step in the direction of never getting pregnant again?  I don’t want birth control or an IUD, I hate the hormones and weight gain and I just want to start letting my body heal and move into a new chapter.

I know, most women who have to have a hysterectomy didn’t want one and they had no choice in the matter, so I’m a very odd duck.  Are there lots of people out there who wanted hysterectomies and then regretted them horribly later?  Were they removing a very broken uterus or a functioning one?  Anyone with thoughts on this to help me out?   I don’t know what my next move on this should be- I guess a consult with a different OB/surgeon will have to be next.  And it’s not like I want to do this tomorrow as a knee-jerk reaction or because I’m depressed or not grieving well or whatever.  But I feel like waiting a year or so should be more than enough to say this is not just a quick, bad decision and that at the very least my OB should tie my tubes even if she won’t remove the scarred coffin inside my abdomen.

I’m not strong

I hate it when someone tells me how strong I am.  Yes, I’ve made it through 6 miscarriages and I’m still standing (barely, at the moment).  But please don’t tell me this makes me strong.

I didn’t have a choice in any of this, every day I wish this were not my life, that this didn’t happen to me.  I am only doing what any other person would do given the same sh***y circumstances.  I’m not strong, every morning I just want to quit.  In fact, if I didn’t have one daughter who depends on me, I would have quit.

In fact, I think I’m the opposite of strong.  Recurrent Pregnancy Loss has broken me.  I’ve become a person that I don’t like when I look in the mirror.  It’s made me so angry and mean and bitter.  I am not happy for friends when they so easily get pregnant and their bodies don’t betray them.  I want to punch every pregnant woman that I see in the grocery store (or mall, or park-  lets face it they are fricken EVERYWHERE).  I am scared to death of getting pregnant again.  No, take that back.  I’m not scared to get pregnant again- I do that pretty well.  I’m scared to death of losing another baby.  I have anxiety attacks now thinking I’m going to lose my living daughter.   I’m not strong enough to handle this again, so I just won’t try.  I can’t.

So I’m not strong.  I’m a quitter. A baby loser.  A failure.  So many things other than strong.

Thoughts on “Vacation”

I wasn’t sure what to expect being gone on vacation.  I tried not to have high expectations (because we all know where those get us especially once we’ve suffered from recurrent miscarriage), but I think I did have some hopes of what would happen.  Hope that I could just let go and enjoy myself.  Hopes that I could reconnect with nature a bit and heal a little.  Hopes that my husband and I would have some time to just be ‘us’ again.  Sadly, I feel let down on all of these.

I’m not sure why I hoped to enjoy anything… I just feel like a zombie.  Everything is just happening to me and I’m in a daze watching things go by.  So I’m in a lovely tropical foreign country and I just sit there, wishing my life were different.  I can’t enjoy things, it’s just happening to me.  I feel sick when I think about this-  how many people wouldn’t love to go on a vacation like I did.  But it’s not what’s important to me, so I have a terribly hard time even enjoying it a little bit.  I would give up all vacations for the rest of my life to just be 23 weeks pregnant again.  This must be the ‘bargaining’ part of grief, right?

I didn’t need a vacation, I needed a vacation from being me.  From having all these crazy thoughts running through my head.  From waking each morning and being reminded that I’m no longer going to have a baby in a few months.

So when are things going to start having a more positive light?  I’d take a glimmer, a speck, anything…. I have considered starting Zoloft or something like my OB has recommended.  I have been on antidepressants in the past and they have never helped (I always struggled with seasonal depression).  My experience with being on antidepressants is very similar to how I feel already- dazed, very numb and neither high nor low.  Why go on medication to feel about the same as I do already?  But I know this isn’t sustainable- I need things to feel just a bit better.  I need a little light at the end of this endless tunnel.  I hoped vacation would give me that, but it unfortunately didn’t.

On the husband front, whew, that’s another post.  He and I are struggling so badly, I had hoped that vacation time away from our daughter would give us the opportunity to talk some more and reconnect a bit.  We made it through 5 miscarriages and I thought we were going to be one of those couples that were strengthened by infertility/loss.  I guess our past experiences haven’t really helped us as much as I thought after this last loss.  Definitely a topic for another post.