Last Wednesday, I had one of these, intended to fix this and this, with the long-term intent of having this.
I didn’t say anything at the time, for a number of reasons:
1. “Uterus” isn’t a good out-loud word.
2. As Jane Hamsher noted a while back, the minute you tell anybody there’s something going on with you medically, you stop being a person and become an object at which everybody feels free to fling stories about This One Time My Cousin Had The Same Thing And Died, and You Have This Because You Don’t Go To Church Enough, and Here’s My Doctor’s Number.
3. I am so OVER well-meaning fertility advice, like, dude, if relaxing or eating cranberries or meditating was gonna do it, do you think I’d let somebody cut six inches into my stomach?
But I’m saying something about it now because it’s Mother’s Day, and honest to God, had it not been for my mom holding my head while I threw up from the anesthesia and the morphine, I swear I would have clawed my way into that automatic drip machine they hook your drugs up to and found a way to put myself out of my misery. I was omg so sick morphine is NOT your friend and she held my hand and rubbed my back and said, “It’s gonna be okay, you will get better,” and I believed her, because Mom when you’re sick is the voice of reason, the voice of sanity, the voice that calls you home, and she was.
Had it not been for my mother-in-law feeding me and cooking and cleaning my house these past few days, I would have starved to death in a pigsty, since all I wanted to eat was a little chicken soup, sometimes, and couldn’t have cared less who did the dishes. She made dinners and got cinnamon rolls and poured Gatorade while I winced each time I moved and watched Daniel Day-Lewis movies, and drove me places including to doctors’ appointments, and took care of Mr. A while I couldn’t. She even volunteered to take Fox to the vet for a check-up, and she’s allergic to animals, so believe me when I tell you this lady is ABOVE AND BEYOND here.
It’s not that I’m not grateful for these two incredible women every day, it’s more that today gives me an excuse to say thank you, thank you, thank you for being everything mothers are in stories, everything mothers are in ideal worlds, thank you for, quite literally, keeping me going this past week. I’m not good at needy, I’m not comfortable with being taken care of. An adult lifetime of carrying my own groceries, husband or no, has made me allergic to sitting there while somebody else gets whatever it is, but this week I didn’t have a choice.
I forbade them from coming down and making a fuss.
Thank God they made one anyway.
Happy Mother’s Day, moms.
A.
Geez, take care, A.
.
Good luck. My wife is dealing with the same problem. Two surgeries later it looks like we might have a chance. It is truly amazing how many women are dealing with endo.
I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.
Well, jeez — what an ordeal! I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. You are indeed very fortunate to have loving attention; Happy Mothers Day to the mothers who cared for you so well. Feel better soon, A., and best wishes for the long-term goal.
Peace, V.
My cousin had the same thing because she didn’t go to church often enough, here’s her doctor’s number..
Anyway, hope all is well, I’ll stop nagging for more ferret pictures now.
Hang in there A., my daughter just had…well, you know, and I don’t go to church, so I know you don’t want my advice there, and my doctor-of-the-moment deals with another part of the anatomy, so, I’m kinda useless here.
Huzzah A and Mr. A and A’s Momma!!!
Yes, my Mom and I have had and will have our differences, but she IS there for me.
Last fall when my now-ex and I were moving in together, she got her nose out of joint and essentially, we stopped speaking/e-mailing/whatnot – for about THREE MONTHS. We live in the same city!!!
Now that the bottom has fallen out of the formerly divine relationship that was myself and my beau (don’t ask what happened, he says he doesn’t know, and that he just lost the feeling for me…gee thanks, now I feel like a can of novelty flavor pringles you jackass!) – and I really didn’t want to tell my Mom, thinking she would pop off with an “I told you so”. I finally did tell her, and she did not say that. She has offered to help w/a deposit on a new place, that I am welcome at their house (it’s not the one I grew up in, so I view it as ‘their’ home, not actually ‘mine’) anytime. Would that she wasn’t back to smoking AGAIN, and I might take her up on it so that I can bank some bucks before moving somewhere else.
To boot, there’s a forthcoming interview in New Orleans which has me all atwitter, as I LOVE that city…but it makes the getting out of here difficult, since if I get the job, I will have to move twice in a very short timeframe. I hate moving. Plus I have the two furry feline children.
If anyone has any connections for a fairly good place to live in Nola that is close and is okay w/a cat for a f/t employed person that LOVES the city.
And when I thought my Mom would wig out about my moving away, she was just encouraging that I take this opportunity! 🙂 She did lament the distance, but they love New Orleans (but not as much as myself).
I am just in a lovely midlife quandary and I really need help.
I can happily say that I am VERY thankful for my Mom.
Now to go get ready and celebrate her day w/her and our small family.
Hugs and blessings all around to the First Drafters and their moms or fabu mom-like influences!!!
Elspeth
1. “Uterus” isn’t a good out-loud word.
in my office, my supervisor is the only male, in an office of 12 women, about half of whom are in menopause, and another couple have gone through pregnancies. We joke that it’s not a “real” staff meeting till someone says “uterus” out loud and makes him squirm. Good times.
It sounds like you’re feeling better now- that’s good.
Good thoughts to you and Mr. A and the moms.
my unclee’s wife had same thing, but since she is a manhattanite. she went macronuerotic(shit in chicken makes them grow!) and they drank his aweful chinese tea for fertility.
no kids(she was over 40). now have 2 adopetd chinese kids. and 2 cats all in their tiny manhattan apartment. but hey, decades ago how many would be living there.
I hope you’re doing ok. It sounds like a week from hell. But you got lucky on the mom front.
(BTW — did you notice your girl Katee starred in last night’s SciFi Saturday edition?)
Blessings and good health to you, Athenae.
The Goddess doesn’t want you yet, you got lots of work to do before the Summerlands call. Besides, it seems you have a couple of ‘goddesses’ right here on Earth taking care of you – despite you.
To all the mothers and grandmothers here at FD, this old hippie Pagan fool casts a BIG warm hug and a heartfelt thank you!
To MY mom (who reads this blog everyday) all I can say is –
Yes, I’ll call tonight
Yes, I’m taking the meds for my leg and wearing the damn stockings.
Yes, clean underwear.
and yes…I love you lots.
David
Second Son(2 of 8)
A,
You will be a mother, and you will be a great mother, one way or another. There’s a lot of tough stuff to get through but you will. And blessings and warm regards to your mother and mother in law for showing you the way with all their loving care. I’ll be thinking of you. Take it easy and eat a lot of chocolate.
aimai
Thanks for sharing a powerful story, and also for repeating Jane Hamsher’s wise words. Be well!
A., poor baby. You must feel better if you can write that well. Thank God for moms. And you will be one, if you just go to church and eat the damned cranberries and meditate.
Athenae, I’ve been there. Years of fertility treatments. Horrible endometriosis. Huge fibroids. I finally became a Mom at long last at age 47, through the miracle of adoption. (In one eventful summer, I had my hysterectomy, then we adopted our three school-age kids. That surgery was the closest I ever came to giving birth.)
However you get there, you will become a Mom, and you’ll love it, then you’ll wonder what you were thinking, and then you’ll love it forever. Best of luck to you and the Moms in your life.
my mom’s cousin and his wife adopted a girl from china. after a year or so, she got pregnant in her 40’s, so now they have 2 daughters.
my cousin tried for a while(still in 30’s). they adopted a little chinese girl who is adorable. so. que sera sera and crappy diem.
“Uterus” has always been one of those words that just sounds silly to me when spoken. Kind of like “idea” and “noodle.”
Semantic witticisms aside, I hope all the pain and scariness is just a prelude to you being healthy in the long run. The short run would be even better.
We need your voice.
I’d never presume to offer you advice, but I will say you’re going to be a great mom. And cool, too. Cool moms are so, like, cool.
Good on your momz (and -in-law), A. And I’ll keep a good thought for you. Be well.
Good luck with all this, A. The only thing I can say is to all of the people with advice about how it’s your stressing about getting pg that’s making you infertile, or that it is some other way all in your head: STFU. And to repeat my husband’s flabbergasted query when he learned, at age 38, that the fallopian tubes are not actually connected to the ovaries, so the eggs have to successfully leap across the void: “WHO DESIGNED THIS THING?” (It’s amazing how much guys don’t know about the female reproductive system.)
We came out of it realizing that it’s pretty much a miracle when anybody gets pregnant, it’s so complex.
What Slim said. The most unfair aspect of it all? The 16-year-olds who jump in the back seat ONE TIME and get pregnant.
Sandia – That’s so funny that you said that. When my husband and I were dealing with fertility tests and so on, my OB/GYN suggested that we take off our wedding rings, rent a VW bug, and hop in the back seat.