Imagine going in for surgery thinking that when you came out, everything would be taken care of, and you could continue on with your life. You could put it behind you and look at it as yet another milestone in the growth of your journey. Then imagine waking up, thinking that it was taken care of. Now imagine talking with your doctor, and realizing that you had to adjust to a new kind of normal…This is my life.
It seemed so simple. Dr. Cham was going to remove my cyst, flush my tubes, and then maybe, just maybe, Ben and I would have a better chance at conceiving. There were no guarantees, and Dr. Cham wasn’t certain that the cyst was the cause of our infertility, but he did tell us that he would be able to tell us more after he operated.
Eight AM we arrived at the hospital. No one else was in the waiting room of the day surgery area, and yet we waited 15 minutes before they took me in to weigh me, check my blood pressure, and perform other routine procedures. The night before I had awoke to feel a peace about everything, and yet I still had a bit of the jitters about the surgery. I’ve never been put under before with anesthetic. In my obsession to follow all of the instructions they had sent me to prepare for this, I had even dreamed that I had arrived at the hospital subconsciously chewing on one of Ben’s homemade donuts, and when I got there I was spitting it out and in a panic because I wasn't supposed to eat right before surgery!
I was told that my surgery would take place around ten AM but that before that the anesthesiologist would come see me as well as my surgeon Dr. Cham. Ben and I had an hour and a half to kill. After coming out of the washroom in the classic Johnny shirt, housecoat, and blue “elf” felt slippers; Ben looked at me and said, “Hi beautiful.” Ladies, I found the secret: forget about make-up, hair, and jewelry. Go “au natural” with the classic Johnny shirt/housecoat blue elf slipper combo, and you’ll impress your man.
At first Ben decided he was going to play with the bed I was sitting on. He pumped it up, and then down, then up, then tilted…I finally managed to get him to stop after he nearly knocked the glove box off of the wall from pumping the bed too high. Keep in mind we were the only ones in this waiting room area with beds and curtains. He then offered to produce a glove puppet from one of the latex gloves, but I managed to restrain his mischief - although I’m sure it would’ve been comic relief. Instead, we played “I spy with my little eye.” This didn’t last very long because everything in the room was the same: every bed, every station by the beds…identical, which made it a rather boring rendition of “I spy.” Next ,we played rock, paper, scissors. I lost every time. I blame it on my nerves. After we read magazines. 10:00 came and by that time there was another woman going through what I had gone through at 8:00. I figured I wasn’t going to be operated on at 10:00 as no doctor had yet appeared. Did they forget about me? I was tired and hungry, not having been able to eat since the night before. Next thing I knew, Ben had turned the buzzer for nurses into some kind of submarine telescope that was beeping and peering around our corner of the room. Let’s just say that when people ask me about children, and I’m not in the mood to give the more serious/blunt answer about waiting on the Lord’s timing etc. etc., I say the more humorous, “Have you met my husband? Sometimes he’s all the kid that I need.”
Finally the anesthesiologist came and filled me in on the experience. Next came my doctor and surgeon, Dr. Cham. Then it was time. I found myself tearing up once the nurse came to take me away for surgery. I wanted Ben to be with me, but he couldn’t come to the operating room. He walked me so far and then it was a hug, kiss, and exchange of “I love yous.” Next I was shuffling down the hallway behind a nurse, feeling like I was five years old, carrying a pillow under my arm and wondering what the next few minutes would be like.
As the nurse tried to get me positioned on the table, I had to take off my housecoat. Well, we all know how wonderful Johnny shirts are. She put a blanket behind me to try and help me “modestly” get up on the table, but I did say to her, “You know, my mom said that to you doctors and nurses it would be just another bum.” The surrounding people had a little chuckle, and then as I lay down they put a nice warm blanket on top of me. Then an IV was placed in my arm. They talked to me about my job to try and keep me relaxed, and then they told me it was time for me to go to sleep. “Lord, please be with me,” were the last words that trailed in my mind before sleep came.
I woke up to incredibly sore shoulders and stomach. I was half out of it, and somehow the nurse managed to give me two Tylenol 3 pills at once. It’s beyond me how I swallowed them as when I’m fully alert I do well to swallow one pill at a time. Then she asked me if I wanted a Popsicle because it wasn’t good to have the Tylenol on an empty stomach. She listed off a bunch of flavors, and I opted for the classic 3-flavored Popsicle. As I lay there in my half drugged state happily slurping on my Popsicle, I exclaimed to the nurse, “It’s great to be alive!” Then in my mind (at least I think it was in my mind) I said to the Lord, “I love this popsicle. Lord, can I have more popsicles?” To which He happily replied, “Sarah, you can have as many popsicles as you like.” I was delighted and content, and I have no idea how in the world I finished that Popsicle without it getting on me because I was half out of it. When I tried to look around I got dizzy, so I think I drifted off after that. When I came to more of a conscious state I remember wondering when I could see Ben and thinking about how good Tim Horton’s chili would taste because I hadn’t eaten all day.
Finally they said they were taking me out to the room where the waiting began for final recovery. This time it was filled with people who had or were waiting for surgery. Ben was there, and I remember him holding my hand, kissing my forehead, and being so glad to see me. He had been worried when I hadn’t come out of surgery at the time they had predicted.
Dr. Cham arrived shortly thereafter to inform me about the surgery. The good news is that I don’t have ovarian cancer. This is rare in women my age, but he still checked things out inside of me. Then it came.
“I wasn’t able to remove your cyst.”
“You mean I still have my cyst?” I replied.
Dr. Cham couldn’t get to it because of the endometriosis around the cyst. He didn’t want to damage anything and thought it best that we discuss my options.
“The cyst is the least of my worries now,” he answered.
He did say that it was smaller than before, but he just couldn’t get to it. I can’t remember his exact wording, but it sounded like I have quite a tangled mess in there. My endometriosis is not severe (stage 4), but it is moderate (stage 3). Then came the next news:
“I wasn’t able to flush your left tube.”
The left tube is the one with the ovary that has the cyst on it. He was; however, able to flush the right tube. For now, we know I have one good ovary, but the endometriosis is growing around it too, so it makes me wonder if its days are numbered. He said to make an appointment and book an extra half hour because he really wants to fill us in on our options when I’m not drugged up. He has proven himself to be a wise surgeon and someone whom I believe the Lord has brought into our lives for this time.
As the news sunk in, I have to say that I wasn’t completely surprised. I had done some reading about endometriosis, and looking at problems that I’ve had not only with my monthly but also with my bowels, I began to realize that indeed – I am normal! I just have this medical condition that’s been wreaking havoc on my body for the last 10 years. You see, about 10 years ago is when I started to have problems, but instead of getting to the route of the problem, the doctors I had then said, “It’s hormonal changes. We’ll put you on the pill or some other medications.” I was too young and naïve to question and to probe further. It took not being able to have children to get to the route of the problem.
I teared up and thanked Dr. Cham for all that he had done. I told him that I had a peace about everything, and that Ben and I have discussed adoption. This is not to say that I can’t get pregnant. I know of women who have gotten pregnant with endometriosis. It’s just harder to get pregnant. I know of women who eventually have had to have hysterectomies, and those are extreme cases. The bottom line is that now that I know what I have I can educate myself, talk to my doctor, and go from there. I intend on taking the most natural route possible, and if it means completely changing my diet, I’ll do it. I’m not into drugs. I think I would like to have the endometriosis surgically removed even if it can grow back, but then take natural steps to taking care of myself. Knowledge is power. So it’s going to take some research on my part and a lengthy discussion with my doctor to come up with the best solution – along with wisdom from my Heavenly Father!
And so that’s where I am. I still have my cyst, but I know what it’s from: moderate endometriosis. I have one good tube, but knowing that my mother had all three of her children on one good tube gives me hope. I have the peace in knowing that if God wants me to conceive He will allow me too, but also the freedom in continuing on in the adoption process knowing that one way or another, He will enable me to be a mom. I have a ministry. In my openness God has brought people into my life that have been able to relate or who are working through the process of possible infertility. I have been entrusted with this – whether it be for a time or for my life, and you know what? I’m okay. It’s okay if I can’t conceive. You can hope it for me and pray it for me – as I still do so myself, but ultimately the Lord will have His way, and His way will be the best way for me. I have to admit, in my state of sadness in the hospital I apologized to my husband as the reality that fertility was harder to grasp was on my mind, but he wouldn’t have it. He loves me – body issues and all, and he is actually excited about adopting – what a blessing! On the way home, my heart ached. I so desperately want to be a mom. But my journey is not in vain. It’s been given to me to make me stronger.
How could I ever question God? The same God who opened the womb of Sarah in the Old Testament, the same God who parted the red sea, the same God who healed the lame, is the same God who is in my life today. He will not give me more than I can bear.
As for my belly button, I think it’s going to be okay. It has some dry crusty blood in it and is bandaged up, but I think it’s going to make it.
Your prayers and encouragement have been amazing. I have been overwhelmed between posts, e-mails, and phone calls…thank you for being a support. I believe that it was your prayers that gave me the extra strength and grace I needed to accept the reality of my situation. Ben and I are grateful for your love and support. As we adjust to this new kind of normal, we will continue to place our trust in the Lord. I arrived home yesterday to a gift and lovely note from my sister, a beautiful bouquet from my in-laws, phone calls from family, and notes of encouragement on-line. I am writing to you from my bed - laptops are a wonderful invention. I am physically sore but emotionally healthy. I’m hoping that I’ll be up and running next week as I can’t stand laying around too long, but I do know that I need to take it easy these next few days. Ben continues to be an amazing husband and help to me.
For more information on endometriosis, you can check out this site: http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/endometriosis/DS00289/DSECTION=1
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
A New Kind of Normal
Posted by Sarah at 9:28 AM 8 comments
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Quick Update
- I will be having laproscopic surgery on Tuesday at 8:00 AM. Dr. Cham will be removing a cyst on one of my ovaries providing all goes as planned. The cyst is at least 3 cm by 5 cm. He's hoping to remove it without removing the ovary, but he won't know until the surgery takes place. This is day surgery in Fredericton, and Ben and I would greatly appreciate your prayers.
- We've had a few doors close this week concerning where we'll end up. There's one that is potentially opening and of course rumors of other possibilities. I have to admit that I'm tired of the rumors and false hopes. If anything it is reminding me to stop trying so hard at thinking about where we'll end up and just trust the Lord to bring the right opportunity to us at the right time. I find I can be so impatient sometimes because I like to know what is going on, and then the Lord has to remind me to give up "control" and let Him be Lord in my life.
- I've had a productive few days packing away winter decorations (snowmen etc.) and organizing some other totes for the move. I must admit that the thought of packing up seems overwhelming at times, so I'm trying to break it up and do a little at a time (especially since I work full time until close to the end of June and we'll have to move before Beulah). Of course I'm labeling everything too. Yes, I do like to be organized.
- I've really appreciated some of the chats and encouragement I've received from different friends in person, through e-mails, and over the phone. Whether it's about surgery or about mine and Ben's current circumstances with where we're supposed to be, many of you have been a blessing in our lives.
Posted by Sarah at 5:56 PM 3 comments
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Humorous Concerns
I've been paying a lot of attention to my belly button lately. This may sound strange, but I've always liked my belly button. I've never been one to show it off by wearing belly shirts or bikinis. No. My belly button has lived a pretty solitary life. It's a good belly button. A happy belly button. A friendly belly button. Two weeks from today, it will probably be a sore belly button. You see, I have surgery on March 25. Apart from gum surgery and wisdom teeth surgery, I've never had surgery before. I was also awake for those procedures - something of which I am quite proud of. I've never been "put out" for surgery before - that is until two weeks from today. While I am in "dreamland," a probe is going to be placed down through my belly button so that they can see what life is like inside Sarah's pelvic area. War will be declared on a cyst that has been growing silently for quite some time. So I keep wondering...will my belly button be the same again? Or will it become stretched? My husband's belly button is a crevice - a chasm in which lint nestles away from the movement of his shirts. When he wears sweaters, the lint hops off and finds safety in this hollow place. Will my belly button become like that? Will it ever recover? While some women would be worried about the scars from incisions - those of which I will have too, here I am, wondering about my belly button.
So in amidst my worries about surgery, my husband's job search, and where in the world we'll be in 4 months, I'm pondering on my belly button, and thankful that the Lord has given me a sense of humour.
Other humorous health concerns of which I may make notes on:
"The mole:" Can it really be removed with a special kind of vinegar? An experiement you won't want to miss.
"You Know You're Getting Old When...:" 27 may be considered young, but I'm changing with each passing year and noticing the things that come with it.
Posted by Sarah at 2:21 PM 4 comments