Tears, TNF and no more tots

A lot has happened over the last few weeks; and I guess it’s taken a while to feel comfortable enough to write about it all – or rather I’ve just taken to bottling everything up again.

Everything came to a head at preschool drop off this morning – one of the other mums announced she was pregnant with her second child – lovely news.

But my heart broke a little bit – we’ve been hit with a huge decision of sorts and it’s upsetting me more than I thought.

A few weeks back I had an appointment at the hospital regarding my ongoing period problems and worrying stomach pains; it is believed that I have either endometriosis or fibroids and so I need surgery to investigate.

The shocker came when he told me that a hysterectomy would probably be my best move – I sustained a lot of damage from over-stimulation during fertility treatment and then during childbirth; I need to lose both my ovaries and so he told me I have three months to decide whether or not I want any more children.

The catch?  I’d never conceive naturally – my first pregnancy was indeed a fluke but things are so badly damaged now IVF would be my only option and we would have to fund that privately.

So I have no choice, really – plus a lack of woman-parts would certainly improve my quality of life.

It’s hard to explain – I don’t think I want another child but having the decision made for me so drastically has really messed with my head.  Depression I suffered during infertility was described as mourning – this feels like a form of mourning for the second child I will never have.

Womb problems aside I met my rheumatology nurse last week and after going in thinking I’d be fobbed off with more painkillers I was told my inflammation/arthritis has gotten worse and I need to start a new treatment, called anti-TNF.  The bummer?  It involves injecting myself once a week.  (More on this later)

How do I feel?  Broken, to be honest.  I want nothing more than to just be happy and healthy, to not be in pain every day and to just feel like everyone else.

I stand in the preschool playground at drop-off and pick-up feeling like an alien; because everyone else seems to be excited about going for a run, or planning for baby number two(or three).  I hadn’t realised how upset about everything I was until this morning.

Chronic illness is tough – I have to just carry on being a mum, living life and dealing with the pain and tiredness; and I feel angry about it today.  Nobody realises that every time I move, I hurt.  Walking, sitting, standing, cooking, cleaning, sleeping… I am in pain all day, every day.

But life goes on – and fingers crossed the new treatment will make my pain go away.

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