Right now I am a little over 24 hours post-op. If you didn't know I was having surgery, don't feel bad. I didn't tell many people. Mostly because I didn't expect to be out of commission for very long. Apparently I am going to be down for two weeks. I've kind of gotten weird about this whole infertility thing since last May when I decided I just didn't care as much about it anymore. When it quit defining me. When I decided to move on and be happy with the life I have, and to quit wasting it wishing for something I couldn't control.
Last night as I was waking up from the anesthesia, I started to cry. Really cry. I sobbed. All I want is one more baby. I don't want my beautiful Baby Bean to be alone. I am not positive, but I am sure I sobbed, "I just want one more." The thought of not giving my baby a sibling is like a knife to my heart. I have three siblings, and I love them all dearly.
My little brother and I are four years apart, but we might as well have been twins. I can't live without him. He just had a birthday last week and the text message I sent him at 7:30 that morning was, "29 years ago today, I was given one of the best gifts ever. I still remember dad waking me up early in the morning to tell me you were born. This day, 29 years ago, my life changed for the best. I wouldn't change a single moment. I thank God for putting you in my life." THAT is what I want for my baby. I couldn't give her anything better than a sibling.
If it weren't for the fact that I want Baby Bean to know the joy of a sibling, I would have thrown in this towel last May and called my life good. Cause I hate this TTC crap. I hate it so much. With that said, it has definitely been easier to handle each disappointing cycle. It can't hurt when you don't care. I've just been going along with it to say I tried. I did everything I could.
So here I sit tonight, sore, stitches in my belly button, a hole sealed shut in my lower abdomen, and a steri-strip near my c-section scar. Disappointed by the surgery results.
There was no endo. At least not enough to speak of. I haven't talked to the doctor myself yet, but my husband said Dr D told him there was a very small patch of endo. Everything inside the uterus looked great. Dr. D was apparently very proud of his repair of the rupture. Everything outside the uterus looked good. Again, he was proud of his repair.
The only thing he found was that my right ovary and tube were infused in scar tissue. Most likely from the repair surgery in which I basically had another c-section. My guess is it was stuck to the scar tissue there. Dr. D told my husband he was able to free them pretty easily.
Before surgery I told Dr D the worst possible thing he could tell me post-op was that he didn't find anything. On the drive home from the hospital I got angrier and angrier, because that is almost exactly what I was told. Now what? Everything is fine in there. So why isn't this working?
Over the past year I have become a little more closed off when it comes to sharing my feelings and emotions regarding trying to have another baby. I don't say much about it to anyone anymore, except to my dad. After texting my friends and telling them about the results and talking to my mom, my dad called, and I let loose. I cried, and I told him how angry I was. After we hung up, I pretty much went to sleep.
This morning I started to think about things, and how Dr D had told my husband that the fact my right ovary was bound in the scar tissue might have meant any cycle I ovulated off that side, it just couldn't work. I ovulated off that side a lot. In fact, ovulated off that side every single time we didn't do medicated cycles with chlomid or letrozole, so a good 75%+ of the time.
Then I started to put dates together. My repair surgery was at the end of May 2010. By August, when we were able to start trying again, that is when my cycles got really weird. In December Dr D told me I had low estrogen, and then medicated cycles began. If that ovary and tube were stuck in scar tissue, it was probably hindering my ability to produce estrogen. And even if I was ovulating, those eggs might not have truly been getting free. Even if they were, they might not have made it to the fallopian tube that was also stuck in scar tissue.
So maybe the surgery wasn't a bust after all? I guess only time will tell.
Oh, and my husband? He's apparently super fertile. At least according to the male fertility specialist. His counts are way above normal. The specialist would neither say he was nor was not part of our problem, but it doesn't sound like he is.
On Monday I will schedule my post-op appointment in which I will ask a million questions. When I leave that office, we will see how things go. Hopefully there is an improvement, and hopefully this year will be our year.
Just one more, and I am done.