Disappointing 2nd hysteroscopic myomectomy. Dream deferred or permanently a dream?
It's 3:40 am on the east coast the morning after my 2nd hysteroscopic myomectomy. The Drs, my husband and I were so excited that this was to have been my last surgery, for at least a couple years. That thought was especially comforting when I was wishing for death yesterday morning with the horrible cramping from the cytotec in preparation for surgery. Another cheering thought at the time was that I would get it done before I lost my insurance. My contract has ended and I'm currently on the job hunt for one in another city.
That said, I couldn't understand why my iron didn't seem to be increasing. My hair had starting feeling like wire again, mystery dry splotches returned to my arms and my nails broke at the slightest touch. Why wasn't it working? After the saline ultrasound before this second surgery, I asked if my other Subserosal and Intramural fibroids had changed. All the things I had avoided, taken, drunk thinking they would help had done nothing. The fibroids hadn't changed in size and so I fell back into my coffee habit. A cup a day, 2 on some days. But then I started to break out with the horrible painful cysts on my face and neck again, so I stopped. I had to quit coffee for good. This final revelation came only a week before surgery. Memorial day weekend I had drinks with my hubby and felt no guilt.
So yesterday morning, having not eating a thing for over 12 hours, nothing to drink for 6, dehydrated from the diarrhea and vomiting that accompanied the debilitating cytotec cramps; I was ecstatic when the Drs came by before surgery and seemed excited that this would be "it" for a while. I possibly wouldn't need the god awful balloon to inflate my uterus and much less prescriptions than last time. My hubby looked so relieved, poor thing he hates hospitals and he would be happy to not have to be back in for a while.
"The next time we're in a hospital, it will be to give birth to our kid". I'd joked
But when they tried to sit me up in the recovery room, it hurt.
"Is there a catheter in?" I'd asked. The nurse said there was none. I was puzzled as to why the Dr put the balloon in. My husband told me the bad news, when he was allowed to see me alone. In short: they'd discovered another fibroid in the cavity. They don't think it's a remnant from the first surgery but one of my intramural (IM) fibroids had pushed through the uterine wall. They shaved off the cavity side, but there was a chance it could deliver into the cavity, as fibroid #2 had done (now completely removed, they think), and a chance due to its larger size that it wouldn't move much more.
I felt/feel crushed. I wanted to cry but the nurse was there trying to give me discharge instructions. The dream of motherhood felt like it was slipping away from me. The only course of action for the future was the abdominal myomectomy, which I'd wanted to do in the first place but had no one to help me during the 6 week recovery. So now I have to get a job with insurance, wait some time before I'm eligible for leave, get a surgery, recover for 6 weeks and then wait another 6 months before trying to get pregnant. That's another year at the least and I'm 34. Oh and on Mother's day I find out my lil brother and his fiancee are expecting a baby in October. Happy for them but tired of the "it will happen for you" or "you're next", "when are you guys gonna have kids."
This is straining my marriage as well because hubby tries to be helpful but the things he says sometimes...just... I don't know. I'm hoping we make it, in the meantime, the last 18 hours I've had to try to make the Dr, my mom and my hubby feel better about all this. Who is there for me to bitch and whine to? When all my friends are pregnant, when all they talk about are their kids, my FB timeline is covered in maternity, potty training and kinder pics. I think I will leave FB for a while. I'm hoping for some peace, that I'll really be ok if I don't have any children; to be less consumed by it than I currently am. Honestly, I don't have the means for fertility treatments and paying surrogates. It sounds like I've given up. I don't know how I feel really. Shock, anger and overwhelming sadness.
That said, I couldn't understand why my iron didn't seem to be increasing. My hair had starting feeling like wire again, mystery dry splotches returned to my arms and my nails broke at the slightest touch. Why wasn't it working? After the saline ultrasound before this second surgery, I asked if my other Subserosal and Intramural fibroids had changed. All the things I had avoided, taken, drunk thinking they would help had done nothing. The fibroids hadn't changed in size and so I fell back into my coffee habit. A cup a day, 2 on some days. But then I started to break out with the horrible painful cysts on my face and neck again, so I stopped. I had to quit coffee for good. This final revelation came only a week before surgery. Memorial day weekend I had drinks with my hubby and felt no guilt.
So yesterday morning, having not eating a thing for over 12 hours, nothing to drink for 6, dehydrated from the diarrhea and vomiting that accompanied the debilitating cytotec cramps; I was ecstatic when the Drs came by before surgery and seemed excited that this would be "it" for a while. I possibly wouldn't need the god awful balloon to inflate my uterus and much less prescriptions than last time. My hubby looked so relieved, poor thing he hates hospitals and he would be happy to not have to be back in for a while.
"The next time we're in a hospital, it will be to give birth to our kid". I'd joked
But when they tried to sit me up in the recovery room, it hurt.
"Is there a catheter in?" I'd asked. The nurse said there was none. I was puzzled as to why the Dr put the balloon in. My husband told me the bad news, when he was allowed to see me alone. In short: they'd discovered another fibroid in the cavity. They don't think it's a remnant from the first surgery but one of my intramural (IM) fibroids had pushed through the uterine wall. They shaved off the cavity side, but there was a chance it could deliver into the cavity, as fibroid #2 had done (now completely removed, they think), and a chance due to its larger size that it wouldn't move much more.
I felt/feel crushed. I wanted to cry but the nurse was there trying to give me discharge instructions. The dream of motherhood felt like it was slipping away from me. The only course of action for the future was the abdominal myomectomy, which I'd wanted to do in the first place but had no one to help me during the 6 week recovery. So now I have to get a job with insurance, wait some time before I'm eligible for leave, get a surgery, recover for 6 weeks and then wait another 6 months before trying to get pregnant. That's another year at the least and I'm 34. Oh and on Mother's day I find out my lil brother and his fiancee are expecting a baby in October. Happy for them but tired of the "it will happen for you" or "you're next", "when are you guys gonna have kids."
This is straining my marriage as well because hubby tries to be helpful but the things he says sometimes...just... I don't know. I'm hoping we make it, in the meantime, the last 18 hours I've had to try to make the Dr, my mom and my hubby feel better about all this. Who is there for me to bitch and whine to? When all my friends are pregnant, when all they talk about are their kids, my FB timeline is covered in maternity, potty training and kinder pics. I think I will leave FB for a while. I'm hoping for some peace, that I'll really be ok if I don't have any children; to be less consumed by it than I currently am. Honestly, I don't have the means for fertility treatments and paying surrogates. It sounds like I've given up. I don't know how I feel really. Shock, anger and overwhelming sadness.
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