Stations of the Cross - IF style

This is a repost from last year. I wrote reflections on the Stations of the Cross. The text indented in italics is from a booklet used at our parish (author unknown).


Station 1: Jesus is condemned to death

Jesus, our brother, we stand in silence as you are condemned by Pilate. Standing in silence is not new to us. We have stood silent as you went hungry by our tables, as you were orphaned in our wars, as you walked powerless in our world. We always stand in silence for we, like Pilate, are bowed, broken and afraid. Break the chains of this silence which lies so heavily on our lives. Give us the courage to speak in your behalf.

Jesus was completely innocent, and yet He was sentenced to torture and a cruel death.  I am not innocent.  My sin is always before me, and while I know infertility is not a punishment for sin, it is a consequence of living in a fallen world, and it is my present reality.  In moments when I am tempted to think that I don't deserve to be infertile for whatever reason, help me, God, to remember that I am not innocent like Jesus was and give me the humility to accept my infertility.

~*~

Station 2: Jesus accepts his cross

Jesus, our brother, we watch you bear the cross and do not understand. Our hearts are hardened. Everyone tells us that suffering is evil and must be avoided at every cost. We flee sickness, sorrow and pain. Your carrying your cross says something different about suffering. Help us to follow you even when we do not understand.

There are many aspects of life that cause suffering for the infertile—BFNs, difficult or untreatable diagnoses, dashed dreams, lack of compassion from others, and watching others get pregnant easily.  My first instinct is to try to run from this cross.   But Jesus redeemed the world through the Cross, and He allows me to participate in that redemptive work through my sufferings.  St. Paul says, "...I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ..." (Colossians 1:24)  Jesus gave suffering value and power, so I will follow His example, take up my cross willingly, and offer my sufferings for the good of others.

~*~

Station 3: Jesus falls the first time

Jesus, our brother, you have fallen with your cross. We wonder if you have not fallen again today. Everywhere we see signs of weakness: in our church, in our nation, in our world. We see dissension, controversy, turmoil. We are scandalized. We do not understand. Our faith begins to falter. Help us to find you hidden in your weakness. Help us to find you beneath the cross.

By the time Jesus fell the first time, He had been deprived of sleep, food, and water; scourged; crowned with thorns; and physically abused.  With a heavy weight on His shoulders, it is not surprising that, after all that had been done to weaken His body, He fell.  There are many things in my life, both big and small, that weaken my resolve to carry the cross of infertility faithfully.  Reminders of what I don't have can be especially painful, like sitting next to family with a baby at Mass, passing by a pregnant woman in the grocery store, receiving an invitation to a baby shower, or seeing pictures of the children of friends married for less time than me.  God, help me to be grateful for all the blessings you have given me, and help me to get up after I feel crushed by the weight of infertility.

~*~

Station 4: Jesus meets His mother

Jesus our brother, we are moved by Mary’s love for you. We are amazed by Mary's love for us. It is hard to believe she has not lost confidence in us. But we know she has not. She saw beneath your grime and agony. She saw your hidden beauty. We trust she can do the same for us. We need to be understood these days. We so often feel alone.

My life isn't going according to my plan.  I would have had X (number of) kids by now if I had my way.  Mary's life did not go according to her plan.  Once she gave her fiat, she opened herself up entirely to God's will, but that did not mean she was spared from suffering.  The first two of her seven sorrows happened when Jesus was just a baby and continued throughout her life.  God, following Mary's example, help me to pray, "Not my will, but your will be done," and open my mind and heart to what You desire of me.

~*~

Station 5: Jesus is aided by Simon

Jesus, our brother, We have to admire Simon. He took up your cross and followed you. He had so little doubt, so little hesitation. We see you suffering in all around us, in the poor, in the powerless, in the misunderstood. We are so hesitant to come to your aid. We find so many excuses. We remain aloof. Grant us the wisdom and the courage to help the least of your brothers and so help you.

Infertility can be such a personal and private cross.  No two people facing infertility respond to it in the exact same way.  But crosses are not meant to be carried alone.  What I learn from carrying this cross may help me to better support a friend going through her own struggles.  God, let infertility teach me to have a more compassionate heart so that I might be Simon to others as they carry their own crosses and grant me the humility to accept help from others who offer to be Simon to me.

~*~

Station 6: Veronica wipes the face of Jesus

Jesus, our brother, you rewarded Veronica for her courage. You left your face upon her veil. You will reward us for our courage; you will leave the imprint of your face upon our lives. "By this will all know that you are my disciples: that you love one another." Help us forget our fears and reach out to serve our needy brothers and sisters.

One way to make the suffering from infertility more bearable is to make an extra effort to serve others. Veronica showed Jesus great kindness, and He rewarded her with an image of His face. When I reach out to others in service, the gift I receive is to see the face of Jesus in those in need. Jesus said, "...whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me." (Matthew 25:40)  God, give me the courage and motivation to serve others despite my pain.

~*~

Station 7: Jesus falls the second time

Jesus, our brother, you must have been discouraged by your second fall. We too, know discouragement. Our best efforts end in failure. Those we love do not seem to love us. Regardless of our efforts, life does not bring peace. What shall we do? We will imitate your example and try again, even in the face of futility.

How many times do I fall because of infertility? Doubt, despair, envy, pride...the list goes on. It's discouraging enough to fall once, but when it happens multiple times, it gets harder to want to get up again. Every new pregnancy announcement around me is a new chance to stumble. I should be able to handle each one gracefully by now—I've had plenty of opportunities to practice this—yet still I fall into envy. But if Jesus can get up again while still under the weight of the Cross, so will I try harder next time.

~*~

Station 8: Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem

"Weep not for me, but for you and for your children." ~Luke 23:28

Jesus, our brother, in the midst of your sufferings you had compassion for others and their pain. We are often so self-centered. We do not see the suffering of others. We want pity, kindness, and understanding. We are willing to give so little in return. Help us forget ourselves. Awaken us to the pain in the lives of others.

How often with infertility do I look inward and only see my own pain? It's so easy to slip into thinking that my suffering is worse than everyone else's around me; others can't possibly be hurting as much as I am. The challenge is to acknowledge the pain in someone else and respond in love, even when it's hard, like listening to a friend complain about how little sleep she's getting because she has a newborn. I thought I was doing well by biting my tongue—I would gladly get no sleep if it meant I had a baby, and I was itching to tell my friend that—but maybe imitating Christ would mean going a step further and showing her some understanding while forgetting my pain for a second.

~*~

Station 9: Jesus falls the third time

Jesus, our brother, your third fall is the beginning of your death agony. Our world is filled with dying people: in war, in famine, in hospitals, on highways. Many this day will die alone. May our prayers become comfort for the dying, especially those who must die alone.

How many times do I want to throw the cross of infertility away because it is just so hard?  How many times do I want to avoid suffering, when I should be trying to avoid sin? When life brings so much pain and sorrow, I have no where left to turn except the arms of Jesus.  The pain can help focus my gaze on the hope in what God has planned for me.  Despite my human weakness, I must remember that my joy comes not from what the world offers me, but from God.  I resolve to pick up my cross daily regardless of how many times I have stumbled in carrying it in the past.

~*~

Station 10: Jesus is stripped of His garments

Jesus, our brother, there is something fearful in thinking of you stripped before the crowd. Even the privacy of clothing is taken. You have given up everything for us. We give so little in return. May we have the grace to give, to give of what we have, to help our brothers and sisters suffering all around us.

I need to die to myself—to my wants and desires, to my selfishness and sin. Sometimes suffering is the main or only vehicle which allows that to happen. God knows all the suffering I endure related to infertility can refine me, but like gold that's tested in a fire, the process is not easy or quick or painless. St. Peter says, "...for a little while you may have to suffer through various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold that is perishable even though tested by fire, may prove to be for praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ." (1 Peter 1:6-7) God sends me graces so that through this suffering my soul might turn into something beautiful, if only I would cooperate.

~*~

Station 11: Jesus is nailed to the cross

Jesus, our brother, the pain of those nails was unjust. Your hands which did such good, your feet which walked on errands of mercy, are now punished. You received little gratitude for the good you did. Why should we expect more for the good we do? Help us give and ask nothing in return.

To the outside world, DH and I are a childless couple.  We could be contracepting.  We could be more interested in careers or spending time as a married couple than having children.  We could be doing IVF.  The assumptions and judgements sting, especially from fellow Christians.  Sometimes I wish I could just wear a flashing neon sign that says, "I'm open to life, and I'm following the church's teaching on how life should be brought into the world."  But I don't need approval or a pat on the back from others for trying to live a moral life, even in ways that remain hidden from others' eyes.  Let God's opinion be the only one that matters to me.  Let me be obedient and do good for Him and Him alone.

~*~

Station 12: Jesus dies on the cross

Lord Jesus, you have the greatest love for us. What can we say in the face of it? We can only try to imitate you, by responding to the sisters and brothers you have given to us to love.

It is easy to feel alone when you're infertile.  I try to open up to friends or family about what I'm going through and they dismiss my pain, so I retreat inward and feel isolated.  But I am never alone.  Jesus gave His life for me, and He, more than anyone, knows what it's like to feel alone.  He knows my pain and my isolation.  He is with me always.  If I am close to Jesus on the cross, I will be with Him rejoicing when Easter comes.

~*~

Station 13: Jesus is taken down from the cross

Jesus, our brother, you are laid in the arms of your mother. The agony is over. But the resurrection is not yet. Your Father's plan requires patience. So it is with us. We reach moments when only patience can carry us on. We know that something better will come. But when? Help us share your patience and the patience of your mother.

We know the ending—Jesus triumphs. But that doesn't mean our life looks like Easter all the time. Much of infertility looks like Good Friday. We've been TTC for so long. How many cycles will it take to conceive? Will we conceive ever? How long will we have the cross of childlessness? Will it be life-long? Patience is so important in learning to accept this cross. I have to trust God that His plans for me are for my ultimate good, even if it doesn't look like what I had in mind.

~*~

Station 14: Jesus is laid in the tomb

Jesus, our brother, the end of life is so definite. We fear it deep within. We do not want to die. Help us understand that our lives are but a prelude to a new life, a life with your Father.

It is so easy to live for this world.  I have my preferences and dreams of what I'd like life here on earth to look like, but getting what I want (i.e., children) doesn't get me to heaven.  I have to keep my eyes fixed on the eternal and remember that God desires my pursuit of holiness and love above all else, whether life is going according to how I want it to or not.

Asking for your help for a fellow blogger

Thank you everyone who prayed and helped.  She reached her goal.  :)

*******************************************************************

A fellow blogger and dear friend of mine needs our help.

Visit her blog!

Conceiving Hope is going to begin training to become a FertilityCare Practitioner (FCP) in a few short weeks.  Yay!  However, the cost to go through training is expensive, and she hasn't raised enough money yet.

Would you consider donating to help her meet the cost?  No donation is too small!

On her blog, she has a "donate" button on the right sidebar.  She also has a great post explaining why she wants to become an FCP and how the money will be used.

I know she will make a wonderful FCP.  You all know that having an FCP who has walked this road of IF with us will make her both a knowledgeable asset to her clients as well as a sensitive and compassionate listener.  Her future clients will be in great hands!

Your prayers for this endeavor are greatly appreciated!!



And this is a request from me to fellow bloggers....

Would you consider posting a request to help Conceiving Hope on your own blog?  Just trying to spread the word.  :)

Surgery follow up

My follow up phone call with Dr. E went well.  I don't need any more surgery.  Hooray!  She reviewed the path report with me and explained that she removed several of the black spots from different areas, and they were confirmed to be carbon deposits from my previous surgery (vaporization of endo).  Even though each spot is my body's immune response to a foreign body, she said they will not affect fertility.  (**big relief here**)  I did a bit of light googling later and read that in that situation there is minimal ongoing inflammation, so that put my mind at ease more.

I did have five confirmed spots of endo: 2 behind the bladder, 2 on my rectum, and on my right posterior broad ligament.  They were each small, so it's stage I.  Again, they were all new spots since last surgery.  There was one lesion on my left ovary that she wasn't sure about, but it turned out not to be endo because it only met part of the requirements for endo.  But it's gone, along with the others.  :)

I forgot to ask Dr. E what percentage of patients get new endo growth after a NaPro fellow surgery.  My case doesn't count as a "recurrence" of endo, so I don't fall under the NaPro fellow stats of 22% chance of recurrence after vaporization or 7% chance of recurrence after excision. I've actually never seen stats for patients like me who regrow endo in new spots...  I'll have to ask Dr. K what her experience has been.

I haven't done any cycle reviews with Dr. K since my November surgery, and I haven't asked PPVI for the results from DH's semen culture from December.  I plan to do that before this cycle ends in case she wants to change the antibiotic we would take at the beginning of next cycle.  My culture results from surgery indicate the antibiotic I had been taking is the correct one for the infection I (still) have, but we'll need to know what showed up on DH's culture in case it gives us more info. (Last time we did a semen culture it showed different results from mine.)

Surgery was post-peak last cycle, and we're avoiding this cycle so I can heal (doctor's orders). We'll be back to TTC next cycle.  Recovery continues to go well; I took my last ibuprofen three days ago. I can't fully bend forward at the waist, but I can squat to pick things up from the ground, so that's a welcome improvement.  :)

Recovery at home

The spirometer.  I take a deep breath, and it tells me
how much air I inspired.  There's some prune juice in the
 background.  Good stuff.

It's been a week and a half since my surgery, and I feel really good.  This recovery is so much better and faster than my previous robotic lap two years ago.  I guess the size of the main incision and how much endo is removed makes a big difference in how you feel afterward.  Two years ago, I had the hit-by-a-bus feeling for almost two weeks after surgery.  This time around, I felt almost normal just four days post-op.  Of course, by "feeling normal" I mean while sitting comfortably in a reclining chair happily medicated on two types of pain meds.  Once I had to get up and walk, it was another story.  ;)  About that time I could start to sleep on my side instead of on my back, so my quality of sleep improved greatly (I don't sleep on my back normally).  The first week I was faithfully using the spirometer they gave me in the hospital to do my breathing exercises to fully inflate my lungs.  I had never used a spirometer before, but my breathing post-surgery has been noticeably better than after my lap in November.  The shoulder pain (referred pain from the gas used during surgery) hasn't been too bad and tends to recur when the previous dose of ibuprofen is wearing off.  Already I can bend forward slightly at the waist, which I didn't expect to happen this soon.  I took my last opioid two days ago and have been managing well with ibuprofen alone.

I am a little nervous for my phone follow-up with Dr. E tomorrow.  She told me that she removed all the endo, but there was more to the story.  I have little black spots all over my abdominal cavity, which she assumed to be carbon deposits.  She said she has never seen something like this before. She could only biopsy them with the robot, so there was no way to know what they were for sure until this surgery.  The path report confirmed they are an inflammatory response which usually happens as a reaction to a foreign body.  Dr. E wrote me a very brief e-mail saying she thought they were a reaction to the vaporization of endo (from the surgery with her two years ago).  I have no idea what this means.  Do I need another surgery?  Do they affect fertility?  I do remember when Dr. E stopped by to check on me the morning after surgery she brought up these carbon deposits.  She said that if they needed to be removed, it would require a lot of work because she'd have to cut off a whole layer of tissue (these carbon deposits are everywhere), and then she'd place Gore-tex (material to help prevent adhesions) that either would be removed in another surgery a week later or would be left there permanently.  I am hoping there will be no more surgery, but lots of little spots of inflammation don't sound too good to me.  We shall see...

Day of surgery

Today has gone really well.  Surgery started at 8:00 a.m.  I was out of surgery after about 3.5 hours.  I remember a little of the communal post-op room, but  there's a hole in my memory until I woke up in a private room around 1:00 p.m.

The post-op nurse gave me some toradol in my IV for pain, which worked so well that I was nearly pain-free.  It is some amazing stuff. :)  I haven't needed any other pain meds.

I've felt so much better than I did after my previous robotic lap.  The anti-nausea patch behind my ear is working quite well.  I was allowed to eat solid foods at 3:00 pm; snacks never tasted so good.  Around 5:00 p.m. I took an escorted walk down the hallway and then spent several hours sitting up in the chair next to my bed.  Two years ago I didn't get out of bed until the following morning and that was only to go to the bathroom.  I'm guessing that part of the difference is that two years ago one of my incisions had to be made larger so fibroid could be removed; that wasn't necessary today.

The catheter was removed at 6:30 p.m.  It hurt and left me with uncomfortable cramps.  However, I am happy to report my bladder has been working quite well, both before and after catheter removal.  (I'm sure you all wanted to know that.) That's a definite improvement from two years ago.

A nutritionist stopped by to help figure out what I could eat for dinner with all my food intolerances.  She was really helpful and ended up going to the grocery store to get a few items just for my dinner.  I was so impressed and grateful.  She even called me from the grocery store to confirm that a couple ingredients would be okay.

My dinner was delicious.  :)  (That's almond milk in the white cup!)

The goal for my discharge is still by lunch tomorrow.

Out of surgery

My surgery is done.  It took about 3.5 hours.  Dr. E spoke with DH and said she was able to remove all the endo.  I'm all tucked in bed and am looking forward to being able to eat solid foods in about an hour (when my diet restrictions are lifted).

Thank you all for your prayers!!

A bit like Mardi Gras

My robotic laparoscopy to remove the endo is Thursday.  Tomorrow I'll be on a clear liquid diet all day plus the ever-popular bowel prep (bottle of magnesium citrate at midday).  I'm hoping the car trip tomorrow night will be...uneventful in the GI department.  :)  That means today is my last day of real food, so I'm enjoying it as much as possible, sort of like celebrating Mardi Gras before fasting on Ash Wednesday.

I received the Anointing of Sick after Mass on Sunday which has kept the anxiety away.  My pastor kindly volunteered to offer Mass on Thursday for me.

I've been taking advantage of my last few days of mobility.  I cleaned the bathtub.  I vacuumed the whole apartment.  Tonight I might clean the inside of the refrigerator.  There's nothing like the prospect of not being able to bend down for weeks to get me motivated to clean.  ;)

The plan is that I will spend Thursday night in the hospital and hopefully will be discharged Friday.

I will be offering the pain of my recovery for all those considering abortion, for those affected by abortion, for Lucky as Sunshine and her husband, and for all of you.

DH or I will post something here on Thursday after surgery is done.  Thank you in advance for your prayers!

So I did survive

1. My last post was about making it through Christmas family gatherings with babies around.  I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas despite whatever difficult or sad circumstances you faced.  I'm happy to report that the day went better than I thought (as most of you probably predicted).  I didn't cry. I didn't actually go near the two babies, but I had an excuse:  I was sick with a really bad cold or mild flu.  I spent the 24th in bed at my aunt's house and missed the babyless family festivities that day.  I felt good enough to make a public appearance on the 25th.  I went into my IF survival mode where I kind of numb my feelings of sadness and try to put on a smile on the outside.  Not that I recommend being sick during a family gathering, but it did make a nice conversation starter so there was no baby-related conversation directed at me.  I was ready to change the subject if someone did try to ask about us having kids.  Thankfully the babies only stayed about three hours and slept for most of that time, so there was really only an hour of so of relatives ooohing and aaahing over them. It warmed my heart to see one of my aunts hold one of the babies for a while; she was IF (probably is menopausal now) and has one adopted son.  It looked like it was a bit healing for her.  So, all in all, it wasn't so bad.  I still marvel at the fact that many people can conceive fairly easily with everything that has to go right in order for conception to happen.  I guess when you can't conceive and multiple medical issues are causing it, you think about these things.

2.  We did our third SF collection for the SFA and semen culture.  Since no lab around here will do the culture to check for possible infection, we did it while visiting my parents after Christmas.  We carefully arranged logistics so that (hopefully) no one knew what we were doing or where we went. The only issue was that it was quite cold outside, and even though DH kept the sample inside his coat during the drive from my parents' house to the lab, the lab tech said the container felt cold to her.  That made me nervous...  I don't remember how long they let the culture sit, so I haven't asked for the results from Dr. K yet.  DH and I really hope we're not asked to redo it...

3.  My surgery to remove the hard-to-reach endo is next week Thursday, January 22.  I didn't choose the day; it was given to me by the nurse.  I'm disappointed that I won't be able to go to the March for Life, but it'll be a good reminder to offer my sufferings for all those who are considering abortion or have had one in the past.

4.  Dr. E e-mailed me a pdf file of a doctor's excuse letter that I could give to my employer.  Before sending it to my timekeeper, I opened it briefly and just glanced at the top of the page to make sure the file was okay.  My timekeeper later e-mailed me saying that she didn't need all that medical information, just the letter.  I was confused so I opened the attachment.  It was nine pages long, with the letter as the first page.  The rest of it was my previous operation report and post-op visit note.  At the top of page two in capital letters was my diagnosis "ENDOMETRIOSIS."  I probably turned fifty shades of red.  Thankfully the timekeeper said she shredded the extra pages when she printed the letter for my file.  I am hoping that she is not a person who gossips.  I have never met her in person, and she doesn't interact with the other people I work with (other than requests for time off).  I am super relieved that my boss was not copied on the e-mail with my, ahem, informative attachment.  I probably would have died on the spot if he had seen it.  I have told him nothing about why I've had my previous surgeries or that we're TTC and IF.

5.  The last two months I've been enjoying a nice break from many of the pills I've been taking while TTC.  I stopped taking Clomid, the antibiotics, and all over-the-counter supplements except the prenatal vitamin (at Dr. E's request).  It's been a nice two cycles without the stress of TTC or so many pills to remember.

6.  I am in possession of some lovely organic flannel material so hopefully before next week I'll be able to make an attempt at sewing my own cloth pads.  I still need to find some metal snaps that are nickel-free, which is proving more difficult than I thought.  (I'm allergic to nickel.)  Whenever I finish them, I will share pictures here.  I'm sure you can't wait.  :)

Surviving holidays

This might be a bit surprising, but I've never spent a holiday family gathering with either a pregnant woman or a baby since we started TTC more than five years ago.  My parents are not grandparents, and my youngest cousin is in grade school.  Thanksgiving and Christmas have been essentially safe spaces for an IFer.  No family member has ever asked us about when we are going to have kids (and we have not shared with family that we are IF), so we haven't even had to attempt an awkward conversation about it.  Last year on Christmas, DH was reading in the living room, and nearby two of my aunts were saying that my grandma needed more babies around.  DH made a beeline to the kitchen to "get something to drink" to avoid getting pulled into the conversation.  I know we've had it easy compared to stories I've heard from other IFers.

All that will change this Christmas.  There will be two infants at our extended family celebration on Christmas Day.  Two of my cousins who married in the last few years recently had a baby.  One of my aunts will likely be sharing her excitement with everyone, as any new grandma would.  During the afternoon people gather in the kitchen or living room, and I really just want to hide in the room where the babies are not (the living room) and avoid them, but I kind of expect that aunt to personally introduce the baby to everyone.  (The other aunt has other grandchildren so maybe her excitement won't be as fresh?)  Is it bad to hope that both babies will be sleeping the whole afternoon?  It's only about five hours that the cousins with babies will be around on Christmas Day, based on previous years, so at least it's a limited time.  I can't spend much time in the bathroom as there are only two bathrooms for 40+ people.  ;)  I'll be in the middle of my post-peak phase, so all bets are off how my mood will be.  Just thinking about being around babies is making me cry right now, so I'm not super optimistic I'll be able to hold it together in three days.  There's nowhere to escape as we'll be in a rural area, and the nearest city is a half hour away.  I suppose I could go for a walk outside in my nice dress and big winter boots if it got too hard to handle...  I know I can't just avoid them forever though.

I'm also not looking forward to comments about having babies, especially if they're thrown in my direction.  I'm hoping it just doesn't come up.  :)  I had asked for advice on what to say to the question, "Where are you going to have kids?" in an older blog post.  The advice in the comments ranged from sharing about IF to saying "I don't know" and changing the topic or walking away.  I'm leaning toward saying: "I don't know.  I'm going to get some more water."

If you have any advice on how to get through Christmas gatherings with babies around or how you handle relatives' comments and questions related to having kids or IF, please share in the comments.  :)

I keep all you of in my prayers always, but most especially this week.  If I end up having a difficult day on Christmas, I will be offering it up for you.

Surgery recap and recovery

This is rather long.  Read what interests you, and skip the rest.  I mostly wrote it out as a record for myself.

Day of Surgery

hospital socks

Friday morning (Nov. 21) I was supposed to be at the hospital at 5:30 a.m.  I showered with a special soap that morning (and the night before).  After we filled in the paperwork at check-in, I headed over to the chapel to spend a few minutes with Jesus in the tabernacle.  I love Catholic hospitals.  :)

When the nurse took me back, before putting on the hospital gown, I had to use large wipes on my entire body.  The wipes were supposed to leave a film on my skin that would help prevent infection during and after surgery.  I think she said it was protective up to 24 hours after surgery?  It was new since my previous surgery at this same hospital.  I also put on the fashionable hospital socks that have no heel and are the same on both sides so you can't put them on upside down.

In the past, my biggest worry the morning of surgery was the IV, but this time I didn't even blink when the nurse inserted it.  I guess years of blood draws and some awesome prayer warriors can help a girl get over her fear of IVs (and needles in general).

my view in bed all prepped for surgery

This time they put what I call "water wings" on my calves while I was still conscious. They're supposed to help prevent blood clots by sporadically inflating to squeeze my legs.  After I was all tucked in bed, the nurse turned on the warm air to inflate my gown and keep me comfortable (and to keep my body temperature up which improves recovery after surgery).

When the anesthesiologist came in, I mentioned that I had nausea and vomiting after both previous surgeries.  He said he read that in my file and would be giving me a patch to prevent that.  I was definitely looking forward to no vomiting.  :)  Later the nurse anesthetist came to give me the patch. She stuck it behind my ear and said I could keep it on for up to three days.  She warned me not to touch it, but if I did, I would have to immediately wash my hands.  I guess if you touch it and then rub your eyes, it will dilate your eyes and give you a headache.  She gave me a rubber glove to use to remove it at home.

Around 7:20 a.m. Dr. E arrived with a third year med student who was accompanying her for the day. It was the student's first day on her ob/gyn rotation, so she was just going to be observing, not assisting.  I gathered that Dr. E hadn't had a chance to explain much about her training or NaPro, so I decided to fill the med student in a bit.  Just a bit.  :)  I told her that many of Dr. E's patients travel long distances because she has done a special fellowship in surgical techniques for endo and that she's 1 of only 14 in the country (not including Dr. Hilgers himself) to have that kind of training.  I think I might have slightly embarrassed Dr. E, but I wanted the med student to know ahead of time that she was going to be observing a highly-trained surgeon.  The med student seemed intrigued.

Dr. E then prayed over me which I loved.  I noticed at the end of the prayer the med student made the sign of the cross when Dr. E did, so maybe she'll be even more interested in NaPro because she's Catholic...  Hopefully Dr. E was able to plant more seeds as she spent time with her...  :)

Dr. E promised to tape a rosary to my hand before surgery started.  She said she had a bunch that were blessed by Pope Francis.  My last surgery I had one that was blessed by Pope Benedict.

rosary blessed by Pope Francis

Just after 7:30 a.m. the nurses came back to wheel my bed to the OR.  I was awake long enough to see the inside of the OR briefly before the anesthesia kicked in.

My surgery lasted about an hour.  I don't know what time I woke up from anesthesia, but when I did I was in a large room with curtains around each bed and a rosary wrapped around my hand.  I wasn't nauseous at all.  :)  I asked the nurse standing next to my bed for water, but she said that would make me nauseous so she brought me apple juice instead in a cup with a straw.

Dr. E stopped by to explain what she found during surgery.  I tried really hard to concentrate on what she was saying because it was unlikely I would remember anything based on previous post-surgery talks with the surgeon.  I remember her saying that I had stage I (nearly stage II) endo and that perhaps Dr. K (at PPVI) would want to do the next surgery.  Somehow I was coherent enough to reply that my insurance didn't cover the hospital in Omaha.  She said she would at least consult Dr. K before doing my next surgery.  What is not clear in my memory is if she said it would be robotic "with the possibility of opening you up." (meaning a full laparotomy)  I really hope I am remembering that part completely wrong.  A laparotomy would be a six-week recovery versus the robotic laparoscopy's two-week recovery.  She also said that she could tell I had ovulated prior to surgery by looking at my ovary.  Surgery was on P+1.  She did cultures of my endometrium and cervix, but I won't have those results for a while.

Dr. E spoke with DH separately and gave him pictures of my insides.  As she explained them to him, she labeled some of them.  I had endo near where my rectum meets the colon, and that would be the tricky spot to remove.  I had another spot of endo near my cervix.  There is some scarring on one ovary, but I don't know if that's endo.  There was another questionable spot that might be endo or could be something else.  All of the endo is in new spots.  Why, oh why does my body regrow new endo so easily?  :(  It's been 21 months since my last surgery.

The nurse anesthetist stopped by briefly to ask if I was nauseous.  I said no.  She smiled and said she has a 100% nausea-free streak with the patch on her patients.  I'm glad to have kept her streak alive.  I ended up keeping the anti-nausea patch on for a day and a half.  I'm definitely asking for it next time.  :)

So there I am lying in bed sipping my apple juice and feeling pretty good.  The next thing I know the nurse says it's time to get me dressed.  I was really surprised (since I hadn't urinated yet...that was the ticket out of there in my first surgery) but I didn't mind.  I got some granny-style hospital underwear (so comfortable!) and two large pads.  Why two?  I don't know.  I didn't discover the second one until later in the day when it fell out in a rest stop restroom...  At that point I was thankful the first one was still in place.  :)

Shortly after getting dressed, the nurse moved me to a chair next to the bed.  DH came into my curtained room and got some last minute directions from the nurse.  Another nurse brought a wheelchair and wheeled me to the hospital entrance.  It was about 10:30 a.m.

We drove to a pharmacy near the hospital to pick up my two prescriptions for pain meds.  I learned that Dr. E doesn't call in pain meds, so we had to walk in with the prescription in hand (well, DH walked in) and wait until it was filled.  Thankfully it only took about 10 minutes, unlike my previous two post-surgery experiences where it took an hour or more.

I had a small pillow in the car to put between me and the seat belt to cushion bumps in the road.  I reclined the seat a bit because that was more comfortable than sitting straight up.  I ate a few snacks, which tasted so good after the previous day's clear liquid diet of chicken broth and apple juice.  :)

At home, DH made me chicken noodle soup, my comfort food of choice.  I set alarms in my phone to take the pain pills on a schedule (hydrocodone/acetaminophen aka "the good stuff" and ibuprofen) and then napped until dinner.

Day after surgery

Early the next morning, I awoke after a poor night of sleep thinking I'd spend the day watching movies and napping.  As DH was helping me out of bed, he stopped and sat on the side of the bed.  He was having terrible abdominal pain on his right side.  He never has pain like that.  After a few minutes it subsided.  He took a quick shower in case in came back, and it did.  I was worried about appendicitis.  He normally avoids going to the doctor, but he said he needed to go to the ER. I knew that meant it was bad.  If he didn't volunteer to go, I would have forced him in my I-can't-get-out-of-bed-by-myself state.  Don't mess with a girl who just had surgery.  ;)

I did spend my day watching movies and napping at home as I had expected...but also e-mailing back and forth with DH who was lying in a bed in the ER.  It turned out to be a kidney stone. Thank God it wasn't more serious.  He came home in very little pain.  He had no pain when he passed the stone.  A little tiny thing sure caused a big problem...

Rest of recovery

The next morning I felt decent enough to make a public appearance, so I went to Sunday Mass with DH.  I took both pain meds beforehand so I was happily drugged up.  I couldn't genuflect, but everything else was fine.  Afterward I was exhausted.  You don't realize how much up and down there is (sit, stand, sit, stand, etc.) until it's hard to stand up on your own.  Mass on Thanksgiving was better (no pain meds), but I still felt like I had competed in the Olympics afterward (i.e., was wiped out).

I took my pain meds on the prescribed schedule for the first four days, and then I started to wait and see how I was feeling before taking something.  On Wednesday, I only took one pain pill.  I took my last one on Friday, a week after surgery.  Since then, I have been using the heating pad for random pain flares, and it works well.

I learned a new post-surgery trick the hard way.  After surgery, I had no other choice than to sleep on my back.  I normally sleep on my stomach or my side.  By the third night after surgery, I could lie on my side a little.  One night while sleeping I rolled onto my stomach and woke up in the morning in a lot of pain.  Not fun.  To prevent it from happening the following night, I slept on my side and hugged a large pillow.  It kept me from rolling onto my stomach.  I still sleep with the extra pillow because I don't think I'm ready to sleep on my stomach.

Something else new I realized this time around is that a straw is a really useful thing to have, especially during the part of recovery where it's difficult to sit up when you're lying down.  If you have a bendy straw in your cup or water bottle, you don't have to sit up to drink.  It will come in handy more when I have my next surgery.

I experienced a new and unpleasant symptom during this recovery that I didn't have after my previous surgeries.  Involuntary, quick deep breaths started about four days after my lap.  At that point, taking a deep breath was not really enjoyable because it increased the pressure on my incisions, but it was possible if I did it slowly.  I know most breathing is involuntary, but this was strange because they were little gasps for air when I thought I was breathing just fine.  They would happen quickly like hiccups and last a second or less, but they didn't happen as often as hiccups. Oh, did they hurt.  :(  Dr. Google told me it was common after abdominal surgeries.  They lasted 4 or 5 days, but became gradually less painful because my abdomen could tolerate the pressure better.

About the same time the weird hiccup breaths began, I started sneezing quite a bit, which hurt more than a deep breath.  I should have read the discharge directions that said I should hug a pillow tightly against my stomach whenever I had to cough or sneeze to minimize the pain.  Next time I'll have a pillow ready.  :)

Even though I had been told you can expect to go back to work within a few days of a lap, I was happy that I took the week off through Thanksgiving.  Being able to nap whenever I wanted was really nice.

I ended up spotting for eight days after surgery.  My urge to urinate disappeared for two or three days after surgery, so I had to remember to go to the bathroom those days.  I was very happy when it returned.  I guess you don't appreciate things so much until they're gone.  ;)

My incisions still ache a bit on and off.  Sneezing is still a bit painful.  I can bend forward most of the way without pain and pick up things from the floor.  I probably could drive (the prospect of slamming on the brake doesn't scare me like it did last week), but I've preferred not to drive since DH can.  I've been really grateful that this surgery's recovery is so much easier and quicker than the robotic lap.

I haven't heard back from Dr. E yet about scheduling my next surgery.  I assume she's going to consult with Dr. K first to better plan the surgery.  It will be January at the earliest.  I have a post-op appointment in two weeks.  I don't know if it will be in person or virtual (phone or Skype).

Here's a little summary of what I've learned:

What to bring to the hospital when you have surgery

• yoga pants or any clothing that isn't snug at the waist
• underwear that sits either really high (granny-style) or really low
• pads
• all prescription medications in their original containers
• small pillow to put between you and the seatbelt
• large pillow to make napping in the car more comfortable
• plastic bags or bucket for car in case of vomiting (if you don't get the anti-nausea meds)
• food for the ride home

Nice things to have at home during recovery

• straw for drinking when lying down
• large pillow to hug during sneezing/coughing and sleeping (to prevent rolling onto stomach)
• heating pad