Fruitility Journey Part Un.

 I have been honestly debating back and forth on writing about this, but honestly... 

this was the whole point of this...right?   The vulnerability... the honesty.. the actual journey. 

I never thought I would get this far to be fair. 

Well we pulled the trigger so to speak, and decided to do this damn thing.  I am not getting any younger and is there ever really the right time to have a baby. 

I could make 100 excuses of why I am not ready.  But I think the only reason I wouldn't really be ready to do this is the fear that my body would once again let me down and would prove my inadequacy to be abundantly clear to God and everyone.

 But screw it, right?  

Well I have started my journey with a fertility center here in Colorado.  They did this amazing thing here where they have actually made it somewhat affordable. 

I went in for my Baseline at the end of July after our phone consultation, where this guy was like Hey you guys are ideal candidates, which I think really just meant that we could relatively afford it.

The baselines were just hella blood being drawn to see what I needed to start taking or stop taking to get this vessel to start vesseling? 

Guess what mother truckers... I was really worried at 32 that I would not have enough stock or eggies left to do this without worrying and homies... she be fertile as a mother.. literally.  Which is awesome and my hubs swimmers be swimming, so to speak.  So that is amazing news.

I had to go in for a test called a Hysterosonogram.. aka the Balloon Test aka how many things can we fit IN there.. 

Yes IN.

So its a saline ultrasound.  The first put in the speculum, and for all my none ladies reading this that means that cold metal pliers looking device to prop your girl open, and then they put in "a very thin catheter" and if you have been following my story you know my hate/hate relationship with catheters... like no one wants that.  And THEN they pump in saline into the uterine cavity AND THEN they, also, put in the ultrasound probe.. or the vaginal wand or whatever you want to refer to it as to see if there are like any abnormalities such as polyps or really anything that could prevent the embryo from implanting in the uterus. 

I know I basically sound like a doctor. It's crazy, right?

But if you read back on that.. that's too many things going on in there.  Almost got caught up and thought my situation was Mary Poppins' bag, huh?  #metoo  Ooo is that an umbrella.. and a watch.. and oh dang not a Land Rover... all of it. 

Well during the test natch I am extremely uncomfortable.. too many things in there and I am not on Porn Hub, and I am not getting paid for this.. I am paying them to torture me.  BUT anyways, after they put Niagara Falls in there and remove the catheter they should be able to see what's going on in there to make sure is just the best looking Ut out there and low and behold as soon as they removed the catheter my Uterus closed up like a venus fly trap.. couldn't see a damn thing.  Well reported by the very nice tech she said that there might be a polyp, which we will have to surgically remove... stop it.. I can't.

I am hoping it doesn't prolong the process, but it might.  We will have to wait and see until we go in for the egg retrieval, which I will already be put under for.  I am not stressed... I am, also, lying. 

I did get all of my meds in which is probably the most aggressive amount of shit I have ever seen in my entire life.  I believe it ends up being around 90 doses of medicine in roughly 5 days and majority of them are shots.  You know I just love me some needles. 

I will start my injections when I start my cycle.. which should literally be any day now.. if I stop stressing out. Which.. I mean calm? me? ever? Literally no.  

Also, some of the medications expire in 2 weeks.. yes.. expire. The definition of use it or lose it. 

It is a lot. and I mean A LOT. And I have been looking up stats which is like Googling your symptoms...never good.  30%...

Do you realize 30% is like what you get on your SAT if you put your name on the exam.. You don't even have to really try anything to get a 30% on anything.. 

But shit... I mean I have come this far.. and 30% is better than 0% right? 

I don't even know anymore.  I have been praying so much and so hard and have to remember to be patient and remain positive regardless of the storm we are weathering. 

I really am just scared. Very scared.  I want to feel deserving, I want to feel confident, I want to feel hopeful and excited. And I am just so nervous for the shoe to drop and to be devastated.  I am petrified to be excited. 

So I will be waiting for my period to start and in the mean time watch videos of people giving themselves shots subcutaneously. 

Holler. 

Loca Loca Loca

I feel fucking crazy.  That's a fact.

Things were getting worse, the pain, the anger, the sadness, the lack of sleep and patience.  I am tired.

But I've been tired.

I really didn't think I needed more help after finding out that Endometriosis was my fate.  I thought I had dealt with my shit pile of cards and things are awesome and I'm going to put my every being into my career.  I'm going to let fate decide my relationship status and I'm good.

then why the fuck am I so angry.

Finally I decided that I'm just not trying to be this person anymore.  My emotions controlled my life. Basically I'm attempting to break up with my anger.  Which He is kind of a douche bag and treats me like shit, so naturally I'm in love with him. 

I decided the best way to break up with my anger was the only plausible decision which was to see a psychiatrist and get better drugs to make me less angry and sad. 

Makes sense.

So ya girl calls Dr. A.  She is in my network...one of the reasons I chose her and Like dude I don't know her.   She can't help me if I'm not honest.  So we Zoom meet which is like the 2020 skype.
And I send her all 45 pages of how I am feeling which  like one question was

"list your traumatic experiences"
And let me tell you nothing gives you PTSD like writing out every single thing you bury so deep to forget but you know that you need to tell her or the anger and sadness doesn't stop.

So you tell her.

We are talking via Zoom because of the Rona and She asks me more questions like my fucking novel that I sent her wasn't sufficient enough to make a diagnosis.

And Dr. A blurts out the most obscene shit I've ever heard.

"Kelsey you are bipolar"
At first I was like excuse me B word you are bipolar... I 1000% thought she was being rude and then I had to remember she is a psychiatrist and like those words actually mean something here.

What.. Bipolar.  I'm not bipolar.  There is no way I am bipolar.  I am not crazy.  I don't have anything wrong with me. I have been just fine.  I don't need this.

bipolar: extreme highs and extreme lows.

fuck I'm bipolar.

She starts listing all the medicines I need to start taking.  I keep it together as she tells me she is calling in my prescriptions.

We hang up and I'm sitting there with myself.  I am bipolar. It felt like a bomb had dropped on me. 
I always thought everyone felt the way that I do about things.

Realizing you are different hurts. You aren't like everyone else.  Your brain isn't right. My brain isn't right.


I have been on these happy pills for 3 weeks now.  So Strange.

My first move was to realize there was something not right and make a change.

There is nothing wrong  with being bipolar,  I am still me. I haven't lost myself. But there are more good days than bad.

It's okay.
My brain isn't right, but it's okay.

I Knew I Was Right

Being told it's all in your head is beyond discouraging.

Makes you doubt yourself and your sanity.

I did for a long time until recently.

On December 20th, I had my first surgery since 2015.  I felt so crazy the last few years with them telling me the pain I felt was a nightmare of never-ending turmoil. 

I was getting trigger points and doing physical therapy.  It always felt like maintenance for something none of us knew about.

I haven't mentioned my surgery on here, yet because I've been scared.  I didn't want to go down that road again of no answers, more doubt, and shame. I haven't known what to say or how to feel. will my story make sense...it doesn't to me so why would anyone else get it .

I know what you are thinking, "Why shame. There is nothing to feel shame for."

I felt alone and empty.  Maybe the pain for years was in my head. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe I was being a hypochondriac.

This surgery validated my truth.

I was hospitalized 3 times for pain in the last 5 months.  Never any answers.
Just dope her up on some pain meds, that must be why she is here. 

My father and his wonderful amazing friend Dr. B, decided that we can't keep doing this.  They sent me a list of new doctors.  I called all the second on the list.  Dr. C we shall call her.

I pleaded to the nurse on the phone through a soaked face and they got me in so quickly. I knew Nurse R was going to be my saving grace from her concern at my first visit.

The room this time was something from a hoarders episode of all things pink.  It was absolutely frightening, and nothing I wanted to be exposed in.
I have only been in there twice but man just like it's a girl gender reveal threw up all over that room.

Dr. C was stern but kind.  She basically said screw it let's find out.

Scheduled me for surgery two weeks from the date.  This hospital was a little different.  They weren't saying prayers over you before you go in but they do make you feel all warm while you lay there naked.

Life is so out of control sometimes, that it's an honest to God blessing that you have any control ever.
Maybe the color of your hair or the nails on your fingers, or the tattoos on your body, but that inside stuff, nah...
you get what you get and you don't throw a fit.

When I woke up I always worry because out of anesthesia I am a total mess, either mad or sad....
basically it is how ever you are drunk is what the Post-Op nurse told me. 

I was sobbing. Like a little drunk girl who just was broken up with....a total and utter complete mess.
She told me I have endometriosis. 

I knew I was right.

How does one handle that?
How is one supposed to deal with that?

Here is this disease that will have your uterus grow into parts of your body it is not supposed to be and there is no cure but you will be in pain for the rest of your life.

I wasn't crying because I was sad.
I was crying because finally someone heard me screaming my lungs out that something was wrong.
Dr. C heard me.  I thank God for her every single day for hearing me.


It's been a little over 2 months post-op.  My belly button ring closed up again which is annoying, and I have a little scar on top of my C-Section-esque scar. 

I am taking more prescription drugs to numb what was there.  They said it should be at most two years before my next surgery.

Math tells me that's going to be a few surgeries left in my life time.

Sometimes I ask myself was it worth it all knowing what I know now....even though there is nothing I can do...
I would have to say yes, because at least now this demon has a name. Now I won't be told it was in my head. Now it won't hurt me because I know it's real.  Now I won't be sad thinking that I did this to myself.

So like what do you do.

I probably haven’t had real bad anxiety in a long time.

Like I had a full blown panic attack when I moved into my new house, where the walls were shutting in and even outside it felt like I was stuck in a seemingly bottomless chasm.

It's so hard to explain this menacing flow of uncertainty.  It was getting to a point where I would just lay in bed thinking of every mistake I have made in the last 20 years.  It's a toxic nightmare that didn't make any sense.

It was an argument with myself.  I would speak out loud to tell the baleful assertions in my head that they were wrong,

I would be proclaiming I am worthy! I am not nothing!

I didn't realize that after everything there would be so much mental pain too. 

The doctors were so adamant about me seeking council to reconcile with myself over the difficulty of my prognosis.  At first I thought they were worried about how I would take not being able to have children and, though difficult, I have found most peace with that.

So why do I have to speak my inner thoughts and desires and take these pills if I am fine.

I didn't realize they could have been betting on the fact that I would need assistance to get through the nights I don't want to go out because of the pain or the constant worry of feeling fat because of the effects this disease has on your body, endo belly..so hot. 

I didn't realize that it would take a toll on my relationships with the inability to be intimate when I want to.

I didn't realize.

It was getting to a point where I was mad at myself and mad at God and why he would make me this defective human. 

I am worthy.  I should feel that way at least.  It's a struggle.  It's sometimes to a point where work takes a toll, home takes a toll, friends take a toll, and it becomes too much.

That was enough. I didn't want to lose it all.  I did something I swore I would never do again.  Because I felt stronger at one point but I was mad, I was getting angry, every trigger would consume me. I was losing my compassion, losing sight, being awful and ugly to everyone around me.  I did it I got on anxiety medication. 

I didn't want to lay in bed for hours feeling so stiff that I couldn't move.  I wanted to take my life back.

I wanted to be kinder to those around me. 

I was nervous about this change.  Before the doctors didn't worry about what it was doing to me.  It was making me a zombie. It literally almost killed me.

But this time was different; I was ready for it.

Did it make me feel like I had succumbed to this feat? Did it feel like I had given up on my own ability to take control of my own life?
Yes it did...at first.  But I have found myself thinking more clearly, not overcome with rage and anxiety.

It was a beautiful moment to feel like I had gained my life back. 
I was worried a lot about the stigma. 

Take your crazy pills Kelsey.

But I am not crazy.  Am I crazy? Maybe, I am crazy.  But it's not crazy to want to take control of your life.

I don't care for the negative connotation of this majestic antidote.
Do I feel like I want to shut myself in my room anymore and wait for a better day?

No.

I took my life back. 

Something None of Us Want to Talk About

I never write when I am feeling 100% myself.  I have been listening to Lord Huron- The Night We Met on repeat.  So if you would like to get the full experience, go ahead and turn it on.
It's a good song.  I mean I wouldn't turn it on right now, but it is on currently, so I guess that's a lie.

Why would I be 100% when I write.  It's like a journal.  It's a way to organize my thoughts and fill my desolation.

A sense of normalcy that I crave.

I know that I am tired.  I decided my usual cocktail of 5 benadryl and sleeping pills was not meant for last night.  I decided to watch 13 Reasons Why.
The reason for myself is why.

I knew it was going to be something.  I just didn't realize what.
And in my addictive mind I knew I shouldn't, but I, also, knew sleep wasn't going to find me; the jetting pain in my side found me instead.

So with heating pad and a glass of water, I plunged into a series that I really wasn't ready for.

I know it's so silly that I am even bringing this up.  But it shook me to my core.

Now before we get started, I am not suicidal..  I was once.
But not in a plan it out way.  It was more of a "would-this-be-better".  Would it make everything go away.
It was 7 years ago.
I obviously wasn't serious.  I didn't even have a plan.

So you probably don't know what I am talking about when I talk about this series.

But basically very rough synopsis is, it's about a girl name Hannah Baker, who committed suicide and she left a series of tapes for each person who had "something to do with it", a series of stories and secrets that left her so empty and proved to her that her life wasn't important.

Reminder...me..... not suicidal.

We have all felt low.  We all have a story that no one knows about.  We all have skeletons.  We have all done things we aren't proud of. We have all lost someone.
We have.
It's apart of life.

My first real loss was in the 6th grade.  Vivian Staggs.  We were stationed in Germany at the time.  It was 2002.  And being on one of the biggest overseas bases meant most all the moms and dads were deployed, and that was no exception for Vivian or I.

We were 12.  Vivian and I met in counseling.  Ms. Hinson.
We went every single day for lunch.  I wore my father's Creighton sweatshirt every single day and Vivian would be there. We opened up to each other.  Her dad had been gone a lot longer than mine.  He was enlisted.  I remember Vivian's grades were slipping, and we would work on it together.  She wasn't the most popular.  She was kind of a nobody.  I don't actually remember her hanging out with anyone other than me.
The last time I remember seeing her was the end of the year ceremony at school.  She had received one of RAMS Best.  She was the most improved.  I remember her large lenses and her smile when she went up on stage to receive that award.  Her father was coming home in the next 2 weeks.  School was ending and my family was PCSing back to the states.
I knew, I was probably never going to see her again. I just didn't realize that never, really meant never.

We got the help we needed through the school, but Vivian's stepmom didn't.

Vivian's sister was suffocated.
She was 3.
Vivian...
Vivian was stabbed to death.
In the woods.
That's where they found them.
10 miles outside of the base.
She was 12.  
Her stepmom killed herself.
They had been missing for 3 days.

https://www.stripes.com/news/autopsy-reveals-airman-s-wife-suffocated-one-daughter-stabbed-other-1.10033#.WOQjSjvyu00


How does it get that bad.

It can.

I don't think I have ever stopped thinking about the person she was going to be or could have been.
It was 14 years ago. And I can still see her face.

Have you turned off Lord Huron's, The Night We Met...  
I haven't. Not yet. 

Like I said before.
The series was really good, and paints a picture that people don't want to talk about, or want to cover up, or not cover up.
And maybe you will get justice, or maybe you won't.  Maybe you feel guilt. Maybe you will try to forget.  Maybe if you don't worry about it or pretend it didn't happen, then it didn't.
Maybe people will make jokes and not realize.  And you laugh it off because you don't want them to know. Because you were only 19, and you shouldn't have been there anyways. And you fight with yourself and you drink too much and you start failing school because you trusted your professor and you had to move away but couldn't tell anyone why because you shouldn't have been at that party. You don't really remember.  It's all hypothetical, right.

Everyone has been through something.  You have to chose to make it through.

I have been hiding lately because things are bad.  I was let go from my job, dumped, lost my insurance, been to many many interviews with no leads, I can't sleep, I can barely eat.  I have felt like nothing. Like a burden.  But if I made it through 2003,  2010, 2013, and 2016; I can make it through 2017.


Just another bump in the road.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?
I'm not dead.

Buck-Up ButterCup

Alright... Listen... I have been on this rocky-road of emotions lately.

It's probably my "hypothetical" time of the month... I say hypothetical because I don't really get one of those anymore.... per se... I mean I still am an emotional roller-coaster during that time and things...happen....

I'll let you guess when it is... don't worry I don't know either.
I did have one boyfriend download the "P. Tracker" App... I think he was just as confused when I would cry and laugh all in the same 10 second span.
And he would plead,

"ITS NOT EVEN TIME YET!"

It's fine.
Anyways,  I noticed I get really down about things when I am stressed out.  And telling me to stop stressing out, stresses me out more.

It's like a never-ending circle of awful for myself.

I have gotten a little less crazy with the stress... like I don't pull my eyelashes out anymore... so that's cool.  Well I try not to...

(By the way that's why I wear false eyelashes, sometimes, because it consciously makes me not do it)

Through this new bout of stress, I want to address something.

I have an amazing life.

I really do.  I am doing very well with my job for an amazing company.  I just moved into a house not too long ago.  I just bought a car.  I have an amazing family.  I have a wonderful dog,  And I have some good close friends.

I have so much to be thankful for.

Everyone goes through something.

I do have to go to the doctor all the time which is a little unfortunate, but
I am still breathing.  I could be the opposite of that.
(I'm not trying to jinx myself here)

I get down about trivial things all the time.  But I have to remind myself.

Why? Why are you letting that effect you?

It's easier said than done.

My favorite thing to do is think about the good times, think about plans I have made.. and the goals I have for myself.

If I let the darkness of self-pity run my life, I would kill myself.
I am so much better than that.
I have too much to offer.

Do I love waking up in pain every day? No, I don't love that.
Do I love that I can't get a date because I can't have a family? No, I don't love that. 
Do I love that I have and my family have spent thousands of dollars on medical bills with no change in getting better? No, I don't love that.
Do I love that I cry over stupid things because I can't get my emotions under-control from the hormones I have to take? No, I don't love that.

But I do love waking up every day. And I do love myself despite the flaws.  And I do love my family.
I know the pain gets hard.  I know, God I know.
I wouldn't wish this kind of pain physical or mental on my worst enemy.

But what makes all of this worth it, is the person I have become from it.

I slip up sometimes and have a little too much to drink and cry a lot and I do mean  A LOT.
And call everyone in my family to hear my tears of self-loathing.
But I am trying.

I am finding my way in these twist and turns of fate.
I never thought in a million years would happen to me. 
I would have never guessed it.

And the hardest part of it all is forgiveness.
I am struggling the most with forgiving myself.

I blame myself for this happening. That I went wrong somewhere and that I deserve it.

I have to remind myself when I feel in doubt,

You are good enough.  This is not your fault.  You are strong. 

If I say it enough to myself, I'll believe it.

I feel like I am getting close.

The main thing that gives me hope, and should give you hope is:

You were put on this earth for a reason, find out that reason.  You are handed all these things in life because you are one of the strong ones. You should view this as a challenge and challenge accepted.


Remember that. Never give up hope.

National Infertility Awareness Week

Happy (?) Infertility Awareness Week.

Is that disheartening? I am allowed to say that?  It doesn't feel like a happy time, but it also doesn't feel like a complete sad time either? 

1 in 8 right... 

This is a week that we talk about the problems some of us face.  

or we just don't talk about it in fear of judgment.

I didn't even know this week existed until it directly affected me.

And most days I don't let it.
I am a normal person just like everyone else.

It really does depend on your outlook on the word. Infertile.

I guess, it is one of those things that you should know about.
It could be happening to you and you need to know what to expect.

It's kind of a scary thing.

It's been myself fighting my own view of life.  I was supposed to get married, get a good job, and have a beautiful family.
And that all equals happiness.

I felt I needed to find someone who would kind of love me, and our family would make us whole.  I felt my fertility clock running out and my eggs drying up as the years went by.

I never thought it would happen to me.
I never thought I would have to go through this. 

Especially alone.

Finding out my tubes were blocked was a gift in the strangest form.

A gift telling me life isn't always the perfect idea you created in your mind in the 4th grade.  Everyone has different things they deal with, no infertility story is better or worse.

It makes us human.  It shows us that life is exactly what it is supposed to be.
A rollercoaster.

You can either throw in the towel, marry the first guy who shows you attention, and give up
Or you can realize that when shit hits the fan, it's going to be okay.

I had to get to know myself. You can't begin to heal through this until you find out who you are.  And that might be the scariest thing you can do.  Because what if you don't like that person.  You are stuck with you.

I still don't know if I will have a family, or if I am willing to put my fake future husband through IVF.

But I think out of all the people that this could have happened to.. I am glad it happened to me.
I am glad only for the fact that I can handle it.

I will never throw the towel and give up.
My life is exactly what I allow it to be.

But for those going through the years of trying with your husband, or have a freak situation like mine.
You aren't alone.
It's okay to ask for help.
It's okay to ask questions.

This is a real thing, and it does happen.

I didn't ask the right questions in the beginning because I thought that this impotence made me less of a woman.

It doesn't. I know that now.  It makes me more of one, a warrior, a fighter, an unstoppable being.

Some days are better than others.  Some days feel I have been defeated.

But the brilliant thing about this infertility war we are fighting  is that some battles don't have to be won in order to win the war.

We are human.  We do feel sadness, and a loss of something we never even had. 
But, that's okay because we were the strong ones that can handle it.

Like a beginning intro to Law and Order, we are an elite squad known as the Infertile ones.

And that's okay.
Don't be afraid because our plan may me different but it is ours.