Breaking My Silence: Chapter 2

Breaking My Silence:

Chapter 2. What’s wrong with us?

By our second year of marriage, Nate and I decided to go off the pill because it had literally turned me into a mental patient and my sanity and our marriage was suffering. I had tried everything known to man at the time, short of Depo and an IUD (both of which my doctor had recommended against for reasons that are not necessarily pertinent to this post). Every different brand of pill they made and all the extra low-hormone versions, the patch, the ring… all were horrible.

I am predisposed to an explosive temper and anger so intense that, to me, I almost feel homicidal when something makes me mad. But previous to starting the birth control, I felt I had a pretty good handle on controlling my emotions and calming the beast. Well, the birth control was like unlocking the jail door that kept my anger under control and unleashing it on unsuspecting victims… namely, Nate. But it wasn’t just anger. I could go from perfectly happy to unbelievably depressed in the pits of despair and crying for no apparent reason, to fuming with rage in a matter of minutes. Anti-depressants and anti-anxiety drugs did nothing. And the worst part of all of it was that I was fully aware of what was happening and that I was acting completely irrationally, but I could not control it. The control I had worked so hard to achieve was gone. It had disappeared. It was as though I saw myself outside my body and was watching this crazy rampage unfold, but I would float there next to this psychopath, utterly and totally helpless. And then the guilt I was tormented with after such an episode was soul-crushing.

We made the decision to simply go off birth control all together and if we got pregnant, great. If not, that was fine too. We thought we had solved the problem and everything would be fine again. Except... after 2 whole years of using zero protection and still not getting pregnant, coupled with the strange, painful symptoms that began to manifest, we started to realize that something was definitely wrong.

I had countless pelvic exams, ultra-sounds, blood-tests, scans, and x-rays, all inconclusive. All the doctors and specialists told me there was nothing wrong with me. If we were having trouble getting pregnant, it was just bad timing, or possibly there was something wrong with Nate. I knew in my heart they were wrong. (I also wanted to kill them for having the audacity to suggest that my wonderful husband must the problem.) These were not just any old cramps. Menstrual irregularity can be some people’s normal, but this was more than irregularity, more than cramps, and more than chronic infections for no reason. So for the next few years we kept at it.

I will never forget one ultra sound in particular in which I was required to have a full bladder so that it would move out of the way when I laid down on the table so the camera would be able to clearly see my uterus. The tech pressed down so hard on my very full bladder with the camera that I literally screamed and cried in pain, just to be told afterward that nothing was wrong with me. My poor mom had to sit there and watch it all. There was another exam that was invasive and extremely awkward and painful, in which an ultra sound camera was shoved up you-know-where, covered in freezing gel! Only to be told AGAIN that nothing was wrong with me. And Nate was there by my side every time, just as frustrated as I was. It wasn’t cysts. It wasn’t fibroids. It wasn’t anything on the long list of feminine reproductive problems that the symptoms indicated.

Finally, my OB-GYN told me that we had exhausted all the tests possible. All of them came back saying I was just fine. But since I was persistent that my symptoms had to mean something, he told me the very last possible thing it could be was endometriosis. But the only way to know for sure was to do surgery and physically look inside me and see if there were spots. He told me that endometriosis is so difficult to diagnose because these spots of tissue do not show up on ultra-sounds, scans, or x-rays and cannot be felt in normal physical examinations. Nate told me he would support whatever decision I made and that it would be up to me since it was my body. I chose to undergo the surgery. I could not stand the thought of never knowing for sure. I also could not stand the thought of endo tissue continuing to grow and spread all over my other organs and not getting rid of it. At that time I was not concerned with the possibility of infertility nearly as much as I was about ending the pain. I just wanted relief and knowledge and I wanted it now.

The doctor ended up finding several small patches of tissue on the outside of my uterus around the left side, right where I had felt the stabbing pain. He burned them off, sewed me back up and I took about a week to recover, and then another month or so on "light duty". Now the options were this: 1. Try and get pregnant as soon as possible, which would automatically prevent the tissue from re-growing during pregnancy and nursing. Then try immediately to get pregnant again… and so on until we were done and then have a hysterectomy in the end. 2. Immediately go onto a temporary birth control regimen to prevent the tissue from growing back, until we were ready to proceed with option one.

I didn’t feel ready to get pregnant quite yet and the prospect of possibly being pregnant for years without a break freaked me out at the time, but I was also terrified of birth control due to my previous experience. Finally I chose to give the Depo a try, resolving myself to the only option left if the Depo ended up making me crazy. But it didn’t. It was wonderful! I had none of the previous side-effects and I went without a period for years. I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone, whether you suffer from reproductive issues or not. I have nothing but good things to say about it, but only because it helped me so much personally. Different people have different reactions to certain drugs and you should use what you’re comfortable with and what your doctor recommends. It should be known about Depo Provera, though, that the drug can remain in your system for up a year after your last shot, so plan on that.

The relief did not come without a downside, however. I still had the infertility to face. It has been quite rough coming to terms with the possibility that I may never have a child "the normal way", if at all. Sure, there are a lot of very good and noble alternative options out there (all of which I will consider if and when the time comes), but what woman dreams of becoming a mother without experiencing pregnancy and everything that goes with it?

Imagine how you might feel if that dream were unceremoniously snatched right out of your hands. Think of the children you already have. Of course you would love them every bit as much if they were adopted or conceived in a petri dish (and perhaps they were and you know first-hand what I am talking about), and perhaps its tough not to take your pregnancy for granted, especially if it was difficult or had you ill or bed-ridden, but can you imagine missing out on the experiences of peeing on a stick and (finally) seeing a plus sign… ultrasounds to hear the heartbeat and find out if it’s a boy or girl… feeling your little one wiggle around and kick… watching your amazing body change and grow to accommodate the miracle inside you… teaching your other children about the process… feeling those labor pains and knowing that meeting your new babe is only hours away… the birth itself… hearing your baby’s first cries… nursing… the list goes on.

I had to face the possibility that I might not experience these things. It has taken me a long time, and I mean a really long time, to accept it and become genuinely okay with it. Please, for me, do not take it for granted.

For the record, I am still holding out some hope that, with help, pregnancy will still be possible for me someday, when I choose to pursue that interest. But I have also had to prepare myself for the possible news that it won’t be among my options.

Until next time.