Saturday, November 3, 2012

...and so it goes...

"and this is why my eyes are closed 
it's just as well for all I've seen  
and so it goes and so it goes  
and you're the only one who knows"
        -billy joel, 'and so it goes'   

there is no rest for the weary, my friends.  i know you all know this.  we've all been here in this place; where hurricanes are the daily norm.  where all we know is crisis mode.  


this past sunday i was again admitted into the er.  before studly drove me there, as i sat in relief society, i was certain i was going to die.  then i figured, 'hey, this is kind of perfect, because i mean, if you die in church, you go straight to heaven, right?'  amidst the pain it totally made sense.  my sweet missionaries took action, found studly, and basically held me upright as studly got the car and somehow (seriously, i don't know how, they are tiny little things) carried me out.

i'm fighting tears because all of this has been so incredibly hard for me.  it is hard enough to get me to a doctor, let alone the emergency room.  for me the er is to be utilized if you are about to face death.  perhaps that will give you an idea as to what the pain was like.  a very painful death was upon me.  

there isn't any reason to hide the fact that i've been depressed.  that the medical drama, the lack of my family being close, or my friends, or my own sensitive and kind doctors, may be killing me slowly.  just as i was getting a feel for this foreign land i'm told is called, 'ohio', life gets tipped sideways and i lose my footing completely.  i'm scared, exhausted, and i haven't cried this much or this hard since kate.

i don't know what to do.  truly, and i'm confessing it because there is no point in pretending i'm fine.  

on thursday i followed up (again) with my specialist and never have i felt so dismissed by a physician in my life.  i fought back tears as he half heartedly made adjustments to the plan going forward (and these were GOOD adjustments, trust me, as i called my physician in utah who has been working with me for YEARS) and ended our basically pointless conversation by saying, 'the pain clinic will take care all of this.  here is your check out slip.'  as soon as the new clinic calls i'm dropping him.  if i didn't need his referral and cooperation until they get me scheduled, i would have kicked him in the shins and choked him with one of his hideous ties.  i'm no good to his practice.  i can't have babies (money) and since i have zero reproductive organs that means he really can't do anything that would  help (or provide income for his practice).  now, listen, i know that doctors aren't walking around with dollar signs in their eyes, but c'mon, you can't keep a practice running with a gutted 27 year old.  fine.  i get that.  however, there are not specialists for this and he is the best i can get.  the LEAST this man could do is muster up some bed side manner and take more than three minutes going over this LIFETIME PLAN we are building to keep me sane and pain free as possible.  nope, he walked right out with doppler in hand, practically tossing my check out sheet to my lap (i heard him through the walls allowing a couple to listen to their baby's heartbeat.  i cried in that room for a good ten minutes.  awesome.  we can listen to heart beats for ten minutes but can't take care of my life long plan of attempting to be normal for three)
the worst part of all this?  

the ultrasound.  

oh yes.  they went there.  i had been told it was just an abdominal ultrasound, but they totally broke out the 'wand.'  you know what i'm talking about...

mmk, so i get it.  it safe to look and make sure none of the cysts are so big that they need to be removed, or there aren't any adhesions the size of a head of lettuce or something, but it was so painful physically and emotionally i wanted to slam my head into 32" tv screen above my head.  it was an adorable little room.  all quiet and warm, decorated to soothe, and it had a tv screen right in front of my face.  this is, of course, for those who are getting to look at their fetus.  so they can cry tears of joy when they see those little feet and find out the gender.  (i'm not saying there is anything wrong with this, i'm just saying it was hard for me).  wanna know what i saw?  here, let me show you...


nope, that black space is just my very full bladder.  aw, look at him.  just sitting there, so still, all full of liquid.  such a cute little bladder.  i think i'll name him frank.  

maybe this doesn't seem like a big deal either, but when you are staring at that stupid screen, KNOWING that you will NEVER see a baby on it...  knowing that you have nothing but a bladder named frank in there...ouch.  (mmk, and cysts, i should point those all out and name them too!  who wants in on this game?!)  

i've come to terms with my life as an infertile woman.  i get it.  no uterus.  no babies.  whatever.  i'm very blessed to have adoption in my life because it has cured childlessness and brought boog into our lives.  however, being sterile will never go away, and therefore the sting of it will not either.  it lessens with time, but in moments like this, i struggle.  in fact, i do more than struggle because all i wanted to do was take that blasted wand (ultra sound tech called it probe.  i don't like that word much.  ack) and go all crazy up in that office. 

oh. em. gee.  

can you IMAGINE that news headline?!  

so maybe i need more than prayers.  maybe i need everyone to stop what they are doing right now and ask god/buddha/allah/whoever/whatever you believe in to give me strength to wake up tomorrow because i do not have it in me.  i do not want to take another step because i'm so afraid of what might happen.  this doesn't just mess with me, but with studly, with my sweet boog, my family, my friends...

i HAVE to wake up tomorrow.  

how do i find strength?!  

how do YOU find strength?  

please.  i need to face this head on and i have no idea how.  i'm not as brave as people think. 

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Ashley said...

This sucks. I'm so sorry that this sucks and I wish I could take the suckiness away from you because you've had enough suck-tastic in your life. I wish I could say magic words that would make it better. I wish I could say magic words that would make you spontaneously re-grow a set of egg-shooting ovaries and a baby incubating uterus, hold the scar-tissue and other shit. I wish you didn't feel so gutted, physically and emotionally, I wish it wasn't so helpless. I wish I could help you make this all go away. I'm so sorry. I love you sweetie.

Ashley said...

What's your doctor's name? We're going to make our own flaming bags and leave them on his doorstep.

Brinn said...

so so sorry sweet friend. you have every right to feel the way you do. on my low days, I let myself feel low, really feel it. cry, scream, be angry. and then I force myself to change my percpective. I have a tendency to stay "low" for too long, so this has become my coping mechanism. I put on an attitude of gratitude. I try and focus on every good thing in my life, because when I do, there isn't room for the bad. I am so blessed. You are so blessed.
We are mothers. Sending my love and prayers.

Jill said...

I'm hurting for you Kenna.. What an awful experience. I'm so sorry you're going through this. Praying for you girl. Have Harley give you hugs and kisses before you get out of bed. :)

Anonymous said...

I don't know you I pray for your strength and peace and ability to find help.

Krista said...

Sweet Kenna. Your pain breaks my heart. I hope with all my might that you'll find the relief you need very soon. Please do not let these negative experiences define you. We are all much more than the sum of our tragedies. Your many talents add so much to the lives of countless individuals. Hold on and know that you have many cheerleaders that know you can do this. I love you, Kenna dear.

*Alice Anne* said...

I find the strength because there are people depending on me and I HAVE to. When I can't remember any other reason to get up in the morning, I remember that.

I am SO SORRY you are going through this. I can't imagine. You seem to do well seeing the humor in awful situations. Laughing so you're not crying. Keep that up. :)

Kristin said...

I'm so sorry Kenna. As a very wise friend of mine once told me [you]: "You can try to give up, but God won't let you."

So why not take a few days and check out? Find someone to take Boog and leave meals for Studly. And go book yourself a hotel room on all the extra money from those student loans. [ha. no but really. find some, somewhere.]

Write. Listen. Sleep. Scream. Find a mannequin with a really awful tie. etc.

My heart hurts for you. Wish I was there to help. Prayers coming from all angles over here.

Love you.

Layla said...

I'm so sorry. And I understand. I do t know how I'll wake up either, I don't have the strength. I wish I had some to give you, because I would do so, freely.

Brianne said...

Kenna, this sucks so bad. I'm so sorry that you have to go through all of this! I'll definitely keep you in my prayers!

Carlee Ann said...

As Christopher Robin said... "You are braver than you believe."

Believe it.

Heather Teuscher said...

I have read your blog for about five years (I think I delurked a year or two ago) and you are one of the most amazing people. I love your vivid words and your sincere emotions and I am heartbroken to hear you still have so much hurting. I haven't known how you have carried on for so long so I don't have any answers, but if anyone can it is you. Please know there are people out there you haven't even met who are rooting for you and wish you only the best because you have touched their lives. I hope you feel better soon.

Mrs. Gross said...

I don't know how many cysts you have...but I like the names Jorge (whore-hey), Jean-claude van damn, Biff, "The Situation", and Probe-lem-nator. Just a few....let me know what you think. oh, and also...I love you.

Jena said...

I think you are lovely, Kenna, and more courageous than a lion. As weird as it sounds, I find strength in getting out of my house. I am a hermit, but my hermitness makes it so that I am living in my head all day; thinking, missing home, missing friends, hating the new town we live in, missing Wal Mart, thinking, thinking, thinking, etc. Mostly pessimistic things, since I naturally lean that way. But, when I get out of the house, whether going grocery shopping, meeting my husband for lunch, visiting teaching, or something of the like, I feel revived. I feel hope and faith seep back into my heart, letting my know that things are okay and that life is good.

Anyways, I hope and pray that things get better for you. Never forget what you've already conquered. Look in the mirror and see the amazing woman that everyone sees, because I promise that that is who you are. No doubt.

Kylie said...


There's nothing to say, really. Just that I'm thinking about you and if you can scrounge up the money for a plane ticket to Seattle, I can get you drunk and take you out on the town. You can do this, girl.

ShannonH said...

"Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten." G.K. Chesterton

Here's to friends sending swords. Love. Hugs. Dennys.

Anonymous said...

I'm very sorry to read this and I do pray you have the strength to get up in the morning tomorrow and everyday after. You just need to remind yourself all of the great things you have to live for. You DO have a child and you have a companion. From what I have seen they love you and need you. I can't imagine the physical and emotional pain you feel and I admire your strength to deal with it each day.. Life tests us and you have definitely had your share and you have been great at dealing with what comes your way. Sometimes it's hard to remember all the good that we have when we are so overwhelmed with the bad. I know its hard.. like you said- we all have these struggles to deal with daily.. but please just remind yourself of this cute little boy you have to wake up to each day and when you don't want to get up, just remind yourself he is a room away and NEEDS you to be there and needs you to WANT to be there each morning. Bless you..

Whitney said...

No advice I'm afraid, but I just had to say I'm thinking about you. I truly and sincerely hope that things get better. I know there aren't words to fix it, but hopefully it helps a little to know that someone cares.

Anonymous said...

From a fan out there in blogdom - I've never had to face what you've had to, so NO ONE can say, "I get it" b/c we really don't. I've had troubles where I didn't want to face another day. I don't know what kept me going. It was a combination of love from others, prayers for strength, but mostly it was, I think, responsibility. I had responsibilities to others and to this life I built. Years have passed since that time in my life. There's been a lot of happy days since and I'm ready for more. I want this tatooed on my wrist to remind me to keep on keeping on, "You are never too old to have the best day of your life." Keep writing, I'm pulling for you.

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