Shattered Dreams

When I was growing up, and still today, if anyone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I would say, a wife and a mother. Well, except for one year after I went to Sea World I was going to be a dolphin trainer. Anyway, I have always loved children and had a special connection with them. I worked in day cares and a child development center in the years after the accident. Actually, I have worked with children for the last 10 years. This is the first job I have had in which I do not. I hate it. I have just applied for a job with Child Protective Services. I hope I get it! *fingers crossed*

As I said, I did get my shit together, finally, after the accident and I graduated high school and began college. In 2001, I met Prick Bastard, known from here on out as PB. That may sound harsh, but after this post you'll understand. We dated and lived together for about a year and on August 17, 2002, we were married. My wedding was beautiful, everything I wanted. I can say however, that I should have listened to my womanly instincts. I never cried at my wedding and I always thought I should or would (happy tears, of coarse).

On our honeymoon, I got pregnant. I was overjoyed. My dream of being a wife and a mother was finally coming true. Seven and a half weeks later, on October 6th, a Saturday, I woke up bleeding. I was so scared. I called the doc hysterically. He told me that I just needed to "let nature take its course." I was 7 1/2 weeks pregnant and I was probably having a miscarriage.
But, something inside of me was telling me that it was more than that. Something just wasn't right. About an hour later I was in excruciating pain. PB and I headed to the ER.......

After 8 hours in a morphine induced state and numerous ultrasounds, I was rushed into surgery for a ruptured tubal pregnancy. As it turned out, things never made it to my uterus and the baby was growing in my left tube. It simply got to big and ruptured. I was bleeding internally. My abdomen was quickly filling with blood. There was no saving my tube, now they were just trying to save my life. Thank God for instinct because had I not felt that something was terribly wrong I would have done what the Doc said and stayed home thinking I was just miscarrying. I would have bled to death.

Before the surgery my Mom told the surgeon, the er doc, and the nurses that I was allergic to Demerol. After 4 hours of surgery, I awoke in a hospital bed, with only half my reproduction organs, and on a Demerol drip!! I was bruised from the middle of my thighs to right underneath my breasts and halfway around my back. I was deathly sick from the demerol. For the next four days I couldn't even keep ice chips down. I dry heaved constantly. Not a good thing for a 5 inch incision across my abdomen. I was in the hospital for 2 1/2 weeks. After I was released I acquired an infection "somewhere in my body" and I developed a blood clot in my abdomen. Back to the hospital where I would be for another 2 weeks.....

The blood clot was so big and was causing so much pressure that it caused a hernia in my lower abdomen. My blood count was still extremely low from all the loss of blood and it was determined that I would have to wait 5-6 months to have surgery to repair the hernia. After about 3 months of recovery I was able to get a part time job and resume my college career. But, things with my husband began to change.....

PB became someone I did not know. He was always "working" and he started verbally abusing me all the time. If he came home and there was one thing on the coffee table I was "a lazy bitch" or a "cunt." Mind you, that man had dinner on the table every night he came home even if I had worked all day and had class at 7:00 that night. Not to mention my body was still trying to build my blood back up. I was exhausted. That following May I had surgery to repair the hernia, I got another blood clot from that surgery. Three days after the surgery it was discovered that while I was lying on the couch recuperating and grieving the loss of a baby, my husband was having an affair.

After I confronted him on it things got ugly. I was emotionally, verbally and physically abused. It was then discovered that he was using meth (shooting it, none the less). That November I left him and went to live with my Mom. After a year and a half of marriage, I was divorced.

I just found out in May of last year, after exploratory surgery, the cause of the tubal pregnancy. I have been diagnosed with a severe case of endometriosis. A disease that effects the reproductive organs. They do not know the cause nor do they have a cure. The only way to get rid of it is a full hysterectomy. It causes severe pain every month when I am ovulating. It is not known if I can have children. I only have one tube left and the other is at risk of being clogged with scar tissue. There are some experimental hormone therapies, but there is no guarantee that they will work and to be honest I don't want to risk any more problems with my reproductive parts by experimenting with hormones. It is know a waiting (praying) game. As long as I can handle the pain I will not have a hysterectomy. I just can't let go of my dream of being a mother.

Aaaand....I'm done talking about this right now, it's too much.

On a lighter note, it's my birthday on Monday and I get a 4 day weekend!! Yippee!!

Hope you all have a super groovy weekend!!