Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Round 2 - Ding! Ding! Ding!

Things are going swimmingly in the new house. Slowly we're creeping out of boxes and this weekend I'll be hanging more shades and pictures and making it feel more like "a home". Our roommate moved in this weekend (officially - though his stuff has been here for weeks).  Dad is starting chemo therapy this weekend and overall is feeling good right now. We know the first couple treatments will likely kick his butt as they get things adjusted for him. Since you can't always choose your circumstances, but you can choose your reaction, I'm choosing to take comfort in the fact that he's feeling well, the house is good, and the weather has been SPECTACULAR. For example, this photo was taken this morning from my kitchen window -
 So all that said, I've got another thing on my plate currently that I haven't really addressed. The thing is, it isn't because I have any fear at all facing the issue. In fact, I'm as prepared, if not more, as any woman facing this issue, considering my history and I've had nearly 13 years of 'coping'.

I'm going to a new OBGYN tomorrow morning to figure out what's going on with lefty. (For those of you just tuning in, I have no kids and 1 ovary, since righty was removed for being more disease than ovary a few years back.) What's going on isn't normal. Most of the symptoms that precluded the removal of my other ovary are back. Bloating (back big time - including gaining 9 lbs in 2 weeks while staying within my usual calorie regiment), exhaustion, moodiness (I'm pretty much the most even keel person, until lately), and a few other things I won't bore you with.

 I've already warned the office to warm up the ultrasound machine so we can find out what's going on with Lefty now.

 Now, if you've known me at all, you've known that I've either never wanted kids, or to adopt kids. There was a while when I moarned pregnancy, so I suppose I'm already through that "stage". I'm much more in the "acceptance" phase of my life. Whatever happens - happens. Things that are ment to be have a way of working themselves out.

Here's what I do know - I have ZERO interest in putting myself through hormone treatments that will make me the guys that live with me MISERABLE. I need to be able to function regularly as much as possible for our financial security and for my own sanity.

The way I see it, I've been given an amazing gift. My adoption is giving back to me in a new way. Because I never grew up around people that look like me, I learned that family is all about who you love, who you laugh with, who you cry with, who you lift up, who you guide, who you trust, and who you grow with. Who you look like has very little to do with the equation in my book. In fact, international adoption has always facinated me. I see it as a unqiue oppurtunity to bring a different culture into my every day life, as I'd feel a responsiblity to keep my child connected to their homeland. And more and more the idea of adopting twins or a sibling group is something my heart is getting excited about.

So no matter what the findings are, no matter what they have to do, I'm prepared for it. If I have the slightest struggle, I know who I can pick up the phone and call, and I'm so grateful for those people who 'get me'. After all, that's what friends are for!

I guess what I didn't anticipate in this process was having to help other people through their own grief stages with all this. Sure, I had mine, back in 1999 when I was first diagnosed, then in 2004 when an adoption and a marriage fell through, and again in 2006 when my biological alarm was SCREAMING at me. But I think I failed to fully understand what it would mean/do to those people in my life that are close to me. It's not just about me any more, which is still a bit new to me. To me, an entire family looking like each other isn't abnormal, but neither is one that doesn't look alike. Gentics, to me, are just science. That's it. I don't have some magical bond to my biological family because they look like me. We relate because we choose to. It's fun to discover things we have in common, but the same way it's fun to find out things I have in common with new friends as well.

With infertility especially it's really easy to get caught up in what we 'the patient' are feeling as if no one else exists. But I guess I'd encourage everyone dealing with these types of issues to sit down and be sure they really listen to those around them, and recognize their process, without comparing it to yours.  We're all allowed our feelings - and healing can only come once we recognize the wounds are there.

1 comment:

  1. Glad to hear that your Dad is feeling well right now and hope that continues for him.

    Awesome view from the house - jealous :)!

    Sorry you're having problems and hope they can get it all straightened out for you.

    Yeah, it is hard to remember that others have to go through the process too. You're smart to recognize it and are coping with it so well.