My little contribution to national infertility awareness week...

I have so enjoyed all the blog posts I've read this week regarding national infertility awareness week.  They have been inspiring, motivating and encouraging.  In honor of infertility awareness week I want to share the story of my laparoscopic surgery in 2010.  To me it’s a funny story, but it also shows just some of the crazy things that we do, all for the sake of getting pregnant someday.  So this one is for all my fellow “lab rats”, I hope you enjoy my story, it's not very serious or inspirational but I hope you will have at least one chuckle as you read it, because laughter really is some of the best medicine.  :)  

Our wonderful RE down south had reviewed my Hysterosalpinogram (HSG) (having that done probably deserves its own story, but I think one TMI story is enough for now!), he thought that one of my fallopian tubes looked kind of small and was concerned that it may not be functioning the right way.  He was also concerned that I might have endometriosis and recommended laparoscopic surgery so that he could “clean out” any endo, and check on the tube.

We drove down the night before my surgery to Thousand Oaks, and checked into our hotel.  We borrowed my father-in-laws Honda Accord so that we would have a bigger car and I would be more comfortable on the drive home after my surgery.  The drive down was uneventful and we had as restful of a night of sleep as anyone does the night before surgery. 

The next morning I was up early and hubs was a little irritated that I was so anxious to get to the hospital. He argued that the hospital was less than a 10 minute drive away and he was not interested in leaving “way too early” (have I mentioned he’s not a morning person?).  Anyway, we had to be there by 6:30am, and I wasn’t about to be late.  So, we headed downstairs just before 6 and got into the car only to realize that it would NOT START!  I’m trying not to freak out and neither of us is quite sure what to do.  I believe at one point my husband said to me, “well we could just start running, we’d probably get there in time”.  WHAT?!!, I was NOT going to run to the hospital!!  So we did what everyone does when they need a ride to the hospital, we called a taxi cab (to this day we still debate about who’s idea it was, but trust me, it was MY idea).  :)  It was the craziest thing to be driven to my surgery (just in the nick of time I might add) in a CAB!

We got to the hospital and got checked in.  Surgery went as smoothly as those things do and the next thing I know I’m waking up in the recovery room to a nurse telling me, “My, you get kind of emotional when you come out of anesthesia”.  Apparently I’d been crying, and I was now SO nauseated, that I’d rather die than go on living, so I’m sure I was just a joy to take care of.  They got me enough anti-nausea meds to finally feel like a human again, but they wouldn’t let me go home until I went pee.  I’d never had a catheter before but I was quickly finding out that it can be a challenge to “go” after having one.  I finally peed enough to get cut loose from that joint and we proceeded to take a cab back to the hotel.  :)  We had already checked out of our rooms but since our car wouldn’t start we didn’t really have anywhere else to go.  Have I mentioned yet that it’s December 23 and I just want to go home?  So I assure Ryan that he just needs to call AAA and get them down there to fix the car and I will just sit in the lobby and wait.  (He felt really bad and wanted to get a room for another night at the hotel so I’d have somewhere to wait, but I didn’t want to pay for a room to sit in!!)  I’m sure whoever saw me sitting in the lobby probably thought I had “issues” as I was still pretty drugged up after my fun morning surgery. 

Another hour or so went by and AAA had come and gotten the car started but said the battery was shot.  So we could drive it home as long as we didn’t ever stop and turn the car off on our way.  It’s only a three hour drive, shouldn’t be a big deal, right?

First “stop” of the drive home, the in and out drive thru (remember we can’t turn the car off).  I run inside to pee, because I’ve been pumped full of fluids and now I really gotta go.  But I must have had some weird side effect from the catheter because while I feel like I really gotta go, nothing really is coming out, just a tiny trickle.  Not good.  I give up and get back in the car to find that hubs ordered me a grilled cheese because, “I wasn’t supposed to have anything heavy”.  I will never eat a grilled cheese there again.  I’m sure they make a fine sandwich, but I could barely choke it down thanks to the dry mouth that I had from the pain and nausea meds.  :)  We drive for about an hour before I can’t take it anymore and I tell hubs to find the nearest gas station where I can try, yet again, to pee.  Gas station bathrooms are SO gross, but desperate times, call for desperate measures.  My problem continues however, and I can’t produce much more than a trickle, I know that the car is running (due to the bad battery) so I again give up and we get back out on the road.  We repeated this scenario several more times on the drive home and by the end of the trip I was functioning much more “normally” and I’m happy to report that the car made it all the way home and got a new battery the next day.

As a side note, my Dr reported that my fallopian tube was smaller (as the HSG had shown), but seemed to be fully functional which was good news, he also that my endo was between a stage 2 and a stage 3.  Not what I wanted to hear, but I did feel relieved that there was at least a reason for all of the pain that I had been in for so many years.

The “moral” to the story is that when dealing with infertility you have to find the humor in it when you can.  Ryan and I have enjoyed such a good laugh tonight as we reminisced about how crazy that day was and I hope it put a smile on your face too.  :)