Breathe from your chest

 I did a grown up thing and got my colonoscopy done. It was alright and I made sure to tell EVERYONE about my stage 4 endo and where it was attached to my bowel. 

The doctor took biopsies and removed a couple polyps and said I can't take any NSAID's for two weeks. I've only had one optical migraine and I breathed my way through it.

I am thrilled to be on this side of the exam. 

It was taking up soooooooooo much space in my head and conscience. 

When checking in the nurse noticed I was quiet and still and she asked if it was my first time, after saying yes...she asked what I was most worried about...and I told her I had white coat, she asked from what...and I told her a decade of infertility. 

HER WHOLE BODY LANGUAGE changed and she was soothing and said she was so very sorry and placed my IV on the first try...and it didn't even bruise!!

When it was my turn, the doctor was nice, the nurse that gave me the drugs was kind and I asked if she would hold my hand, and she did until she had to administer the drugs...I was in a twilight sleep and was told to breathe from my chest, it made me think of yoga and I did as suggested. I have spots of memories of the procedure and then I was done. I went back to the bay, was helped to get dressed, walked out to The Barren and taken home, where the Barren had made me some vegan scrambled egg and rice and a glass of water.

Then I went to bed to sleep off the drugs and fart.

They found things in my colon. Fucking nothing surprises me anymore. It was clarified that nothing was cancer and no endo had penetrated the colon wall but, there is a possible immune disease. They won't really know for sure until I do some blood work and stool samples...whatever.

I seriously don't have enough energy to be concerned or worried about stuff. This last year and a half have stripped me of so much...clearly this is another thing.

I go in for another in 7 years or something like that. In the meantime, I have a new doctor trying to figure out my unique body.

On the flip side, we finally brought the cats home. 

We spent a week with them before telling anyone we brought them home. It made a good difference. They have all their shots, are neutered and spayed and are learning how to be housecats. 

Here are the three that now live with us:

Zahra- the kitty that started it all 💗

She is about a year old

Umber- this boy loves his mommy and naps

12weeks old

Kugel- the littlest of the litter and Parkour expert 

12 weeks old

The energy is totally different and as much as they are getting used to being housecats, we are re-learning what it is like to have young cats again.

It has been well over a decade since that was the case.

They change everyday, and hide less and are curious about more.

Soon we hope one will want to be a lap cat, nap buddy, and snuggle.

I can feel my heartbreak from the loss of our boys, becoming less, but their familiar natures are hard to unlearn. Having young cats and not old man cats, where you are used to having something wrong weekly, is an adjustment.

My breathing practice has helped stay calm when I hear a bang from another room, breathing has helped keep my concerns at bay...and breathing has helped me sit for an hour just to move a string back and forth so that I can pet them a little longer each time.

Breathing helps.

My breath is my strength

Blue dress and pearls

 I awoke today ready to wear something different...

I didn't wake up soon enough to wash my hair first so I threw two barrettes in my mop and shimmed on a dress I had bought online in mid 2020 thinking I would wear it to an art gallery or show.

That didn't happen but I made it work as a celebration dress for today...I dug through my jewelry box and found my pearl necklace, I was gifted a pearl necklace when I was 13. I think I have worn it twice...

Today, today was the day.

A blue polka dot dress with a peter pan collar, and my pearls! 

I watched the inauguration from my phone, holding my breath terrified something horrible was going to happen, and then she walked up to be sworn in and I started to cry, happy light tears... like an exhale that I had been holding for far too long.

A woman in power, a woman of color and substance

HOPE

*******

I have been taking self portraits since the beginning of the year, to help document what feels like a slow decline of my mental health. I was gifted a polaroid camera that takes multiple exposures and it fits well into my photography style. 

It is a classic response that artists turn their gaze on themselves first; they are the closest and most eager subject. Self portraits are as old as art itself...

January 15th 2021

© The Barreness.blogspot.com

Photography is what saved me from myself before and I feel that it is still trying to do it again.  I treat my camera is like an enchanted being...a separate living entity that is capable of influencing me. It has convinced me to mostly be braver than I thought I was, stand my ground to capture what scares me, excites me and inspires me...for that I am forever in it's debt.

I have been taking almost daily self portraits since before quarantine, and it feels like a hissing valve is releasing each time I press the shutter. With this new instant camera it feels a little like spirit photography, except I can capture my mood or dual most dominate emotions running in my mind.

The year hasn't changed much since it turned back to January, in many ways it feels like a 2.0 version, same shit, some features amplified, while other are phased out.

I haven't been sleeping well, despite the fact that I am still meditating multiple times a week, taking vitamins, exercising, and eating healthy...but I am haunted in my sleep by the loss of my animal companions, relationships, travel, forgetfulness and desires.

Last week I was so exhausted, I made some lentil soup, The Barren and I ate, I smoked some pot and slipped into the bath (that barely covered my knees, we are still in a drought) and then fell into a sleep. I was in bed for 11 hours, and slept for maybe 9 of them.

I tried to do it again last night, but I was awake most of the night again, either peeing or staring into the darkness of the ceiling and trying to make the constant static in my ears dissipate.

This week, my father is having back surgery for a pinched nerve that has left him hobbled and unable to stand, walk or sit. The surgeon explained that he could only do this "relief surgery" because there are no beds in the hospital and so this was the best he could offer. Ideally this will reduce some pain, and allow my father to stand again. I'm a little scared but I will spend the day waiting with my mother and bear witness to her manic swings in mood.*

*my mother is my fathers EVERYTHING and she doesn't sleep much and refuses to nap so she prone to bouts of manic swings of extreme happiness or sadness based on what she can process.

2020 was TOO REAL

It was too much, too often, too deeply, and too brightly raw

Waiting for that shoe

" the doctor will see you now Barreness"

 

I have yet to return to work, The Barren wanted me to take the full time and wait until I saw my doctor before heading back into the pit of chaos known as work.

These last few days have been filled with me trying to do more and more so that I could gain momentum, and the shock of a full workday and commute would be lessened.

I sat on my arse all day yesterday posting to my shop and writing a newsletter to my collectors and art colleagues so I am still relevant.

 

I am mostly trying to not think about tomorrows doctors appointment.

I really have no idea what to expect or what to prepare for.

 

The Viscountess came over the day before yesterday and spent the day here, she was a brave cowgirl and sat as passenger as I took to the wheel for the first time in two weeks. I ran some errands and she kept me company. It was nice, it kept me light and I felt like I could spoil her a little by picking up lunch and we sat and chatted as we ate.

I had left the room when her cell phone rang and only returned to hear her say to the person on the other end:

" well, we had a thing with our daughter. Yes, we thought she had ovarian cancer, but thankfully that was not the case. but they were able to tell her why they couldn't conceive.
Yes I am with her now, I will call you later "

 

It was hard to hear those words; it was hard to hear her have to say them.

This morning I got out of bed, tried not to puke and then took a shower.
As I had yet to see the doctor I still had to follow orders of:
 "not letting the spray directly hit your incisions"
Shower time is like twister...lots of bending into shapes that are not normal.
I got dressed and was able to button my jeans and headed to the appointment arriving ten minutes ahead of time. I was placed into a room that took my breath away:

creepy and very prepared for splashes

I was told to undress from the waist down and wait for the doctor on that chair.

It was icky and I was left alone longer then I should have been.

My doctor arrived and I mentioned to her " this is quite a room"

she agreed...and then went to tell me about the results.

I have stage four Endometriosis, she said

"you pretty much have really horrible horrible endometriosis"

She went on to tell me how my tubes are suppose to be in front of my uterus but they are behind it and twisted and fused to other bits of scar tissue. She went over the pictures she took with me.

I thanked her for saving my ovary and she was gracious about that.

I asked if any pathology was done on the cyst and she said yes:

It all came back benign and no signs of cancer.

I was happy....

then she mentioned again my fertility, my mood went into " mask mode"

She told me that although there was soooo much scar tissue, there was really nothing she could do to improve my chances of conceiving. She was sorry about that, she then said " you kind of got a double whammy, with this level of endometriosis and the septum in the uterus..."

I told her I understood and thanked her.

She assured me that I was calling the shots, that unless another cyst formed (which is decreased now that I am on BCP) there is no need for further surgery. She mentioned that if pain returned she had a three stage plan to address it and the last step is chemical menopause, not hysterectomy.

In some ways I was glad to hear that.

I just need to stay on BCP until menopause...which I wonder how you would know that menopause had started if you are ...anyways...another topic for another day far off in the future.

She assured me that endometriosis was not hereditary and that if my niece complains of painful periods, push to get her on the pill to preserve her reproductive tract.

That will be an interesting day...she is only 8 now...but I will fight for her.

 

My button is starting to open, like a sick and twisted bud of a flower....

She looked at my incisions and agreed that I had a pool of surgical glue in my belly button and that I could pick at it if I wanted to...ick! and then said I was ok to go back to being me slowly.

When I asked if I could have sex, she asked me how many days since surgery? 14 today...yeah that should be fine if I felt like it.

I told her I was having the most amazing dreams...she laughed and said gotta love that little extra bit of estrogen....

I had a dream I was winning porn actress of the year and my parents were there, but I didn't want them to see me on stage so I kept coming out and telling them the updates of the awards show.

 it was STRANGE!

 

I left the appointment in a daze, shell shocked and not sure where to place all these feelings.

Grateful beyond words, for being cancer free...but devastated so deeply at the real gritty reality of my fertility. I wandered the mall alone for a couple hours just walking and window gazing. It seemed like an easy way to just walk it out, process bits...and not collapse into a puddle.

 

So much to process

Detachable Penis

 

Since my surgery I have had the most amazing and over the top dreams!

I normally have pretty crazy vivid dreams but these most recent ones seem to be taking the cake.

Day two after surgery: I had a dream I was playing with penises, like they were cards in a deck. Shuffling through them, trying to figure out whose were whose....I awoke laughing.

Day three following surgery: I had a dream that I was giving birth to two little girls. I was in a field of flowers. A commercial field of flowers, the kind that flower growers harvest from...I was desperate to find a place to go inside. Inside I jumped up onto a counter and proceeded to give birth. As I reached for my baby, my hands were pushed away...and the children were taken. Never seen.

I got off the table and wandered in the fields looking for The Barren....then awoke.

Day Four post surgery: I had a dream I was running across open land, running to something, but I am not sure. The earth below my feet became softer and softer. Soon I realized I was small, the blades of grass where engulfing me, and I had to push them out of the way to try and see what was in front of me. The earth gave way and I was slogging through a swamp...the mud filling my clothes and pulling me under. Floating in water...serene and eerie. Over processed blues and turquoise colors, sea grass waving.

Day Six: I had a dream that I was working in a gallery, and that all the art on one wall had sold...some very rich person came in and bought half the show. I was shocked and so excited. The room looked like the inside of a Moroccan tent, lavish rugs and fabric walls, glass chandeliers flickering from the candles inside. The someone came up to me and said they wanted to buy a particular work of art...and showed me an image of a piece that is going to be in an upcoming show I am in this December. She said I must have this...I smiled and recognizing it...and remembered that I needed to still frame it. (in awakened life, I have been debating on what to frame it in, concerned that the frame might be too much, but clearly this appeared as a sign to get it framed, it needs to move on)

Last night: I dreamt about penises again. This time The Barren detached his and handed it to me. I was confused but entertained once again. I had penises in my hands and they were there for my entertainment.

When I told The Barren about the dream, he laughed and started singing the the song:

 

The Barren and I have been making a lot of jokes about this "pelvic rest" thing and how it will be great to be off it. We want to get back to our loving, and jumping and goofing around.

The Barren was telling me bedtime stories last night about how he wants us to go out and have a good laugh, relax and tell all this bullshit to FUCK OFF.

I think we have been cooked this year.

Between starting it with funerals and then my mom and then more death and then the cancers of us...we are done thank you very much.

Our dance card is full and we would like to not be invited to this party again.

 

I just have the followup appointment to get past, the last little bit of anxiousness for this year.

Then I am gonna party...with wild abandonment and I am bringing my penises!

 

Pelvic Rest

 

I had a horrible start to the day yesterday.

I was expecting a crash post surgery, but thought it would have arrived the second or third day after...not the fourth day.

I had spent the whole night coughing.

A dry irritating cough and no matter what I did I couldn't get it to stop.

I was curled around a second blanket fearful that if I coughed just hard enough,

I would pop one of the incisions.

 

I had gotten out of bed sometime in the middle of the night, thinking I was going to puke.

The pressure and pain against my diaphragm was intense.

It never happened, maybe my visual imaginings of my insides squeezing out of my incisions like a sick version of cheese wiz stopped it...or I was just able to battle it away.

 

When The Barren caught sight of me in the morning he was ready to take me to the ER...I spent the next hour and a half convincing him it was a sore and pissed off diaphragm and not pain from the surgery. I also reminded him that I had started BCP again and having to take a two days dose in one day could also make me feel puky. It was a horrible combination.

I think he is still unconvinced that I haven't needed pain pills since surgery.

I haven't. I am not sure why.

The second day post surgery I had the neck and shoulder thing, it felt like someone had punched my neck and shoulders, that pre-bruising feeling....but nothing that would require a pain pill.

 

I am totally the first to sign up to sign out...but I think the glee, thankfulness and euphoria of knowing I either caught it before it became cancer and that there were no signs of cancer in me has me riding a pretty high happy train.

 

I had gone into surgery with my period; pain in my lower back and some cramping.

When I woke up, there was no pain.

Nausea: lots and lots of that...but no pain.

day two post surgery
swollen tummy, bruised button

 

I had some vanity moments yesterday too, I am not going to lie. I feel puffy and swollen and my bellybutton is filled with surgical glue, so I can't really tell how much it has changed.

I liked my button, it was the only unique thing that tied me to my birth, like a fingerprint of the day.

I think it has changed now. *sigh*

 

I spent yesterday with The Viscountess, she scrubbed my stove (she does that with her neverous energy, it is how she expresses love)  and spent time just sitting with me and keeping quiet company. She had me eat some salad and that started the deep real burps (even though I have been eating gasx and walking like a loopy girl) it started to relieve the pressure and then I started drinking pear juice last night (a tip from a friend; to get things moving out) I awoke this am feeling closer to fine.

 

I am still processing the reality that is inside me, I will share that later...but I am today, closer to fine.

I'm Alive

First memory of words coming out of the operating room:

" Do I have both ovaries?"

" The Doctor only removed the cyst"

tears running down my cheeks

 " That is such a relief, thank you "

image via: vintagebirdlostatsea.trumblr



 

There is a lot to process, The Barreness has been busy, but the things to know are:

The cyst was removed, and there were no signs of cancer

There was a lot more scar tissue than she was expecting

The only other surgery I would need to have would be a hysterectomy

There is no way I could get pregnant with out assistance,

endometriosis has twisted and turned my tubes to a non-functional level.

 

My heart is filled with humility and love

I am overwhelmed with a wide range of emotion



Today is the Day

 

Who knows what she will see when she opens me up

Who knows what she will take and keep

I am balancing on a high cliff, just holding the hands of my friends and family



I'm Sorry Vagina

I had my pre-op today.

It was horrible to sign the forms, that state: "you could die"

on them as remote outcomes from this surgery.

I was wiping tears from my eyes when the doctor walked in and saw me.

She asked what she could say that would help me feel more at ease.

I told her I was afraid I was going to die.

She gave me the chances of me dying from this surgery and they are pretty slim.

She spent time again answering my copious list of questions that ranged from where am I going to will this effect any sexual function and has assured me that she will have my best interests in mind when assessing my reproductive system.

She still has this little light in the back of her head that this surgery will "fix our fertility problems" and so in many ways she will be operating to protect my fertility.

That looked weird typing...

 

 

 

She knows The Barren has the right to make calls if things look bad,

and he knows what I do and don't want to happen.

She ran down what she will do, and good to worse versions of each step.

She told me that I can expect some bleeding/spotting after the surgery as they

" are going to put a device into your vagina to manipulate your uterus"

 and that if I wake up with more then three holes from the surgery it was because they were unable to get the excised pieces through the scopes.

If she sees a tumor she will send it to pathology while I am asleep and will then contact my hubby for approval of what is or isn't to be done.

These steps are the scariest scenarios and she knows that.

She has assured me that I will be sore and uncomfortable for a few days.

and then the final instruction: nothing in your vagina for two weeks

 

I left her office with labs and instructions for hospital pre-registration.

I was terrified and in auto mode, complete what needs to be done....

The Barren left for work and I finished up on my own.

 

When I got home, I met a friend for a cuppa tea and she saw how exhausted I was...today was harder than I thought it would be and I am now allowing myself the rest of today to feel scared and cry uncontrollably.

Starting tomorrow, all meditation focuses on Strong, Brave and Confident me.

 

I don't want this to take me out, I don't want to be defined by this, I don't want this to be the end of my happiness, I don't want this to stop me.

***

I want this to be the start of a new path, I want this to be a gift, I want this to allow me to walk taller, I want this to make me stronger, I want this to be OK.

 

Dear Vagina,

I am so sorry for what you are about to be put through.

I promise you this: I will continue to call you my own. I love you and want you to be healthy and happy. I will nurse you back to health and comfort you when you are sore and achy.

We are in this together girl.

No matter what they do to us, we have each other.

They can try to get us down, by making us feel like we are broken but we know we are stronger than that. We will recover from this and find many new fun adventures. We have been through a lot of tests and have been introduced to many people, some were even nice enough to introduce themselves first before making us swallow a wand or finger. We are hopefully about to crest, and have far less introductions in the near future. We will celebrate this victory.

In the meantime, be strong, be brave and know that you can recover from this latest challenge. I believe in you!

Love, your life long person 

Weekend Warrior

I spent the weekend filling my time with "busy work"

You know the chop wood, carry water kind of Fantastia broom scenerio

...so that I didn't think about anything but what I was doing.

It worked alright.

I have found that I go to over preparing in order to deal with unknowns and stress

 

image via Hyperbole and a half

 

So I have EVERYTHING in my house washed...

like even the weird slippers that I only wear once in a blue moon.

 

I have cleaned and stocked my medicine cabinet with

pills and bandages that are not expired.

For some reason this was really important

 

I have purchased enough cat food to feed the cats for another two months!

I have gotten cards to send lovebombs out to others so they arrive next week.

I convinced The Barren we needed to get a new mattress,

as out 13year old mattress was just plain tired...I have been working on this for months!

I also got a piece of furniture moved into the garage that we are looking to sell.

I have organized the garage AGAIN.

I am tackling the kitchen clutter now...

well tonight I will be, while baking a cake for the friend who helped move the

furniture into the garage.

 

I am framing artwork for exhibitions ahead of time and meeting with a couple friends this week.

This morning I awoke smiling and it quickly turned to tears....just a little cry before showering.

I asked The Barren if I could change my mind, he softly said "no, this is the right choice"

I knew, but I wanted to feel like I still had some power over all this.

 

I am currently practicing a theory the Dalai Lama mentioned about laughter:

 

"I have been confronted with many difficulties throughout the course of my life, and my country is going through a critical period. But I laugh often, and my laughter is contagious. When people ask me how I find the strength to laugh now, I reply that I am a professional laughter."
--The Dalai Lama
 

The Barren after a long hug looked at me lifted my arms and started to laugh at me, his laughter was contagious and I laughed too, shaking my head and laughing. It seemed silly at first but after a while I could not tell the difference between my crying and my laughing.

Have you ever noticed that? That moment when you are laughing to hard you are crying, or crying so hard you sound like you are laughing.

 

Meditations, mantras and naps for the week. Trying to lull my panic attacks and

convince myself I am brave and strong and able to handle whatever is ahead.

 

Tomorrow is my pre-op.

 

Here Ye, Here Ye

via: art.co.uk

So I finally told my parents about the surgery.
I told them on Halloween

The Barren suggested I just start the conversation with
" I am having surgery"

I was working on not puking on the ride over or while knocking on the front door.

I took his suggestion and I got their attention.
 

I adore my parents, but have spent almost all of my life trying to be heard by them.

I have a long history of speaking up, but being dismissed, or not heard, literally.

So The Barrens suggestion was a good one, as they fell silent and allowed me
to explain what was going on.

 

The Viscount (my father) fell pale, and got very quiet. I became emotional.

The Viscountess (my mother) sat with her hands between her knees, lips tight and engaged.
I calmly explained what was going to happen and when and they listened.
Then asked a few questions and then said they heard me and respected my boundaries.
I told them I was not going to make an announcement to the family, that I welcomed them to share the information as it might allow them feel better or allow them to process the information better.

The Viscount then proceeded to not say a word for the next 24 hours, not to his wife, myself or anyone else.
The Viscountess took my advice and spoke to a friend about how she was feeling, and said it allowed her to feel weigh lifted from her shoulders.
She then directed her attention to her husband and he finally said:
" I am just focusing on being positive. I want this to all be OK"
The Viscount has called me everyday since Halloween to tell me that he loves me and is thinking about me. He normally does this every few days, but now it is daily.
Last nights call was a dozy sweet dreams phone call.

The Viscountess has now divulged to me that she feels useless and unneeded in this whole thing. I am currently trying to find something "special for just her" to do post surgery that will let her know how needed and important her presence is.

I am very thankful that I have parents that want to be very much supportive of this step in my life, and friends that are wanting to help anyway they can...even encouraging me to cry.

I had my EKG this morning, as one of the two pre-op tests that need to be done before my pre-op meeting. I was fine until the nurse was hooking up the electrodes to my ankle when she asked so what are you going in for...and I had to say the words out loud to a stranger.
" I am most likely having my left ovary removed because an enodmetrioma is being a little bitch"
she giggled
I said "I am sorry but I'm really scared and I didn't want to have to do this."
She told me she understood how scary it is to make these choices. She then shared her personal struggle to keep all of her reproductive system in the face of a dozen+ fibroids and post ablation.
She said it is an important fight, but we have to remember that we want to be around to fight it.
I agreed and we did my EKG.
 

Pounding Heart



image via Vintage Printable

The weekend was filled with panic attacks and believe it or not a pregnancy test as AF was super late, from all the stress it turns out.

 

So The Barren and I went to see Special Lady Doctor yesterday.

I took my LONG list of questions and my 2 inch thick binder of years of results and scans.
 I thought I was having a heart attack at least three times on the drive there.

We got to the appointment a half hour early and waited in silence...The Barren held my hand and commented how he could feel my heart beat in it. I thought it was visible to all at this point.

The half hour wait helped settle it a bit, while I watched HGTV on the lobby TV.
The couple that was having their house redone was an infertile couple that had stopped the renovations when they realized their family was not going to grow as they had thought.
The Barren looked at me and we just said "seriously, this is what we were in time for?!"
 

They called my name and we walked into the exam room...my heart exploding again.
Thank goodness they didn't take my pulse, as they probably would have called the crash cart out!
We waited in the room for another 20 minutes.
In that time The Barren looked at the stirrups and questioned if they were comfortable. I told him that it was nice that they had covers on them, so they were not cold.
I assured him that I was not going to have an exam.
He was sitting in a tiny recess in the room that served as an in-room changing area.
They had stocked it with cloth gowns, padded hangers and basket full of pads and tampons.
I watched his eyes go back to the basket over and over...I asked him what he was most fascinated by, he said the names of the products seemed strange and spelt weird.
It made me chuckle and recall how these companies tend to find the most obnoxious colors for their packaging. How as a younger version of myself was always mortified to stand in a line with a bright pink package or a bright blue box, or in the really early days a pack of maxi pads that would now double for a bag of diapers!

He then picked up a magazine and happened on an article about Naomi Wolf and her Vaginia book 

it mentions vaginal massage and yoni tapping and he looked at me and said in my next life I want to be a master vaginal massage therapist.
 At this we both laughed and I was left feeling intense and serene love for this man.
 

The doctor came in and I asked her to go over the results again as the phone call was a hard way to process it all. She saw my list of questions and was happy that I had written them all down. She spent a good chunk of time answering all my questions, telling me what her concerns were and why and laying out a plan. The Barren asked all his questions and addressed his concerns and we in the end decided that it was best to have this surgery.

 

The lowdown:

I have a mildly elevated CA125, it is 29 (nothing going on is 3, full blown cancer is 100) with this number and a history of endo, she is concerned. She explained how she will try to save my ovary but must also assess the risks of it and she understands my desire to keep as much of me as possible. She also will be removing as much endo as she sees, explaining that it too can become additional endometriomas and we want to avoid that from happening. I will be back on the BCP post surgery.

She told me that my barnacle is the size of a lime, it has grown since it was measured last.

 

November 16th is the day

the day after tomorrow my beloved is having his second biopsy for his skin cancer...and all my energy is focusing on him and his health.
I love him so deeply.

On the drive home The Barren mentioned that he felt defensive at the end of the appointment as the doctor mentioned all the options while under:
she could put a camera in my uterus and see what is happening in there
She could tie my tubes
She could also remove my septum, which would probably
 "fix my infertility and my history of miscarriages"
it was this comment that made him sad, as it reminded him of how long this journey has been and how we chose not to have surgery to get pregnant. He said it felt like a slap after the fact.
I understand what he is saying...we might never feel comfortable with our choices.
I had a teacher in high school who wasn't able to have kids because of the RH factor, by the time they had it all figured out it was too late for them to have kids.
Although the situation is different, I feel similarly.
We are 9 years older, tackling the personal and emotional challenges of a life without children.
When a simple sentence like "this could fix all your problems" is said the whole house of carefully laid cards falls and we have to slowly start building it again.
My heart is pounding, my heart is aching

The Barreness is laughing