So I haven’t posted in a bit. I have been keeping busy and actually been in a really good head space.
I had an appointment with my doctor. Things were explained, options discussed. My right ovary is pretty useless it turns out. The endometriosis has gotten it stuck in a strange spot. It also has a large endometrioma on it that sort of blocks it from being useful. I have one on my left as well. It isn’t as big and not in the way as much. My doctor said I had three options. Try again with a different protocol, surgery or lupron therapy that may or may not do anything. We opted for trying again with a different protocol. This was the option she favored. She said that with surgery, I would most likely lose my right ovary and damage eggs in the left. Lupron therapy is very new and has one study with endometriosis. It also take three to six months to work.
Now I am a protocol that does not suppress estrogen production. I was on a protocol that started with BCP for 21 days. My AMH led them to believe that I was at risk of hyper ovulation syndrome. Turns out the endo has taken care of that. Anyway. It is going to be awhile before we can get started again. I have to finish this period, ovulate and then get started. This will be our last IVF attempt. We will move onto embryo adoption or a donor egg.
Luckily life hasn’t stopped. We put an offer in on a house in our neighborhood. We love our house and have done lots of work on it but it is on a busier street than we would like. This new house is only a few blocks away but it needs work. New kitchen, floors refinished, bathroom redone, finishing the attic. Lots of stuff. But we want it. We find out tonight if they accept the offer. Then we would have to get our house ready to sell.
Last night I went to a concert. A band that I truly love. Danced my ass off and sang at the top of my lungs. Came home hoarse and sweaty.
I have been thinking a lot lately on what it means to be a women, to me, society, culture and peers. It is a tricky thing. Bearing children is so tied up in being female in every culture. You play with baby dolls as a small child, push prams around. You are being programmed to believe that this is your role, your lot in life. You will grow up, become a mother. What does it mean if you can’t do this? You cannot preform your function. What does this do to your identity, your self worth? While I have not reached the end of my line or have not had the ability to have children removed from me, these are things I have been thinking about. What does it all mean for my truth? And fairness, that is a joke. I barely give a thought to fairness. What is the point of that?
So what I have decided is this. Fuck those expectations. Being a mother isn’t a prescribed role. And why should I let someone else’s definition define me? Maybe my role as a mother won’t be the traditional role but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it. As for my identity, this doesn’t make me less than. If anything dealing with infertility makes you stronger. You find this inner strength that you didn’t know you had.