LESS OF A WOMAN
Thinking back on my life, I can remember the desire to have a baby. In fact, for most of my life I have been involved with children, from babysitting to being a camp counselor. So the thought of not having any children is like asking a bird not to fly.
After three years of marriage and two years of convincing my husband, Tim that we are ready for children, and will start finally trying. I am so excited that I start imagining what our children will be like and how many we will have. There was just one problem that I know we will run into, and that is the fact that I have never had a normal cycle in my life. I have always had problems with my periods, whether too heavy or non-existent. I have always felt less of a woman, always buying tampons and pads, but never really using them.
I had been diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) by an OBGYN when I was seventeen; however, the doctor I was currently seeing did not have me classified with that. She told me I was just too stressed out and that the whole situation was in my head. This upset my husband, and we decided to start trying to find a different doctor, one that actually cares about his patients. After looking at all our options and taking suggestions from family and friends, we have finally found a new doctor. His name is Dr. Bryan Treacy, and we have heard nothing but good things about him. I am nervous because, other than my husband, no other man has seen my lady parts. But after two months of no periods and not being on birth control for over six months, I am ready to try anything. So I am putting my nerves aside and letting Dr. Treacy check me out. After all the blood work and tests, he confirms the original diagnosis of PCOS. PCOS is a condition where the body does not communicate with itself. The woman’s body either has irregular cycles or none at all. I fall in to the category of none at all. Over time, the cause of these off cycles cause the body to form cysts in the ovaries, which then causes ovulation and conceiving to be next to impossible.
Receiving this news is devastating. Patients with PCOS almost always have to use an outside source to get pregnant, and I really want to do this on my own. “What is wrong with me,” I cry to my mom. “Did I do something wrong? Did God make a mistake?” My mom just holds me as I cry. She tells me that she had problems and that my brother and I were never supposed to exist. This comforts me a little, but still she had two kids by the time she was my age.
We asked the doctor what our options are, and he says that I can have a procedure done known as a laparoscopy. A laparoscopy is a procedure or surgery where they make three small incisions, one for the camera, and two for the tools that would remove any cysts found. This will also allow him to see any other problems that may be going on. He tells us that three months after this procedure, we will be pregnant. I am so excited, and say yes to the procedure without really asking Tim. Luckily Tim is okay with itso, August 9, 2007, I will go in for the procedure.
The day of the procedure has arrived, and I am very nervous and excited all at the same time. I am nervous because I know that I will be undergoing surgery, and drugs will be inserted into my body. I have always had a dislike for any kind of drug and I am afraid that I might not wake up or possibly say something I might regret. I am excited because this is my ticket to a family. I can see a little blond hair, with brilliant blue eyed boy that looks just like his daddy, or the little girl that looks like me and falls down just as easily as I do. I awake from the procedure that should have only taken forty-five minutes, but has taken an hour and a half. We find out that the doctor found quite a bit of problems once he goes into remove the cysts.
I actually had cysts in my left ovary, a spot of endometriosis on my right ovary, and the fallopian tube on the left is undeveloped. He removed the cysts and the endometriosis, but there is nothing he can do about the left fallopian tube. This upsets me. “Don’t you need both fallopian tubes?” I ask in earnest. His reply is, “No, you really only need one; however, it does cut your chances in half.” My hope wavers again. We are still betting on that three months though, so when that time passes, and still no baby, I become unbearable to live with.
It has been about seven months since my procedure, and I have had three false pregnancies and two periods since the procedure. So we are going to go back and talk to Dr. Treacy. The news is not good. He proceeds to tell us that I am too focused on becoming pregnant, that my body is going through the motions but nothing is actually happening. So he is sending me to a therapist. She helped a little, by getting me to realize that this problem is not just mine, but Tim’s as well. I haven’t thought about it that way and have been taking the entire burden on my shoulders. Even though the therapist did help, I still cannot shake the feelingthat I am a broken person or half of a woman. This feeling gets to me, and my life becomes a sad string of self-pity and poor, poor me. I am so consumed by this feeling of brokenness that I start pushing Tim away. I have become a loner, you could say. I have detached myself from most of my friends and leave every baby shower in tears. How can one situation change your entire being?
Tim and I begin to fight all of the time. I keep telling him that he does not understand what it is like to not be able to give him a child. I am no longer going to the therapist, and maybe I should be, but we just cannot afford it. I am also dealing with the fact that, now my friends are keeping their pregnancy news from me. I sink into a bottomless pit of depression. A black hole so dark, that no light can come be seen. Try as I may to explain to those around me what it feels like, they cannot really understand, they all have children. So I feel alone, like I am on display for the world to mock, and laugh at. If you had told me that my fertility problem would change me, I would have laughed at you. I have always viewed myself as a strong person. Tim and I have become two people that happened to be married and living together. We each do our own thing and see each other at bedtime.
It has been two miserable years since we started trying, and we have decided that it might be best to take a break. After our marriage almost ended last year, and our financial situation becoming rocky, we decide to take a step back and re-evaluate ourselves. We decide to try to become debt-free and regain our relationship. This everyday struggle of knowing that we cannot conceive without the use of fertility drugs is heart breaking and very real. I am still learning to look at my problem as our problem. Even with the support of Tim, I still cannot shake the feeling that I am less of a woman.