Life is Hard

"We must accept finite disappointment, but we must never lose infinite hope" ~ Martin Luther King

Life is hard, if no one has ever informed you of this fact, let me be the first... "life is hard"! Sometimes I feel like a broken record. After each operation, I find myself saying, this should be it...this should correct things. Only to undergo another surgery, and another, and then another...well, you get the point!

I mentioned in my last post that I was scheduled to have my catheter removed and x-rays taken on the 23rd of December. My mom was to take me down to the appointment in Jackson. After which we were to turn right back around, pick up Dave in Little Rock, and head for New Mexico to be with my family for Christmas. Well, that whole plan came to crashing halt...

As I went in for my scheduled x-ray, there were complication. They fill your bladder with iodine through the catheter and watch on the x-ray monitor as your bladder fills to assure there are not any problems. Then that catheter is removed and they ask you to urinate while they take images of your bladder/urethra as you empty. Notice, they didn't tell me to sit on the toilet and urinate...yes, right there on the bed (which does have a split down the middle) they ask you to urinate! Not to mention you have three other people in the room watching as you attempt to this.

After getting over the fact that this was entirely too weird, I gave it my best shot with no success. Then they pulled out all the tricks. They turned on running water trickling in the sink...no luck. They filled a bowl with warm water and stuck my hand it...no luck. They told me I could try it standing up, so I reluctantly took that option...as you might have guessed, no luck! Finally they gave me a big cup of water and told me to go wait in the waiting room for a few minutes and to come back and try. I did just that, but no luck. At this point, I was becoming a little emotionally distraught about the whole situation. They sent my mom and I down to grab lunch and to return and try again.

While I attempted to eat my lunch in devastation and fear, a nurse came down to the cafeteria and asked us to return immediately. As I waited in the room to see my doctor, my bladder was feeling unbearably full and getting worse by the minute. It is the worst feeling when you desperately need to go to the bathroom, but physically can't. It finally reached the point to where I could hardly breath from the pain and begged for the nurse to come and catheterize me again (the fact that I wanted another one of those things put in me should explain the extent of pain). My eyes were filled with tears as I laid on the bed while two nurses ran in to give me relief.

The doctor decided that he needed to go in and look with a scope under anesthesia along with putting in a super-pubic catheter (a catheter that goes in through your abdomen to your bladder). My mom and I started making calls to family to inform them that I would not be able to come home for Christmas. We had to wait six hours for surgery, as I had eaten earlier that day. I was released from the hospital around 4 PM the following day on Christmas Eve.

I was given a plug for my catheter and told to try and pee normally. If I was able to do that by Monday (December 28th), my urologist here could remove my catheter. Monday came and went and I still couldn't pee. I was told to keep trying on my own with the super-pubic till January 6th. We are three days away and I can't get out more than a few drops. I am hoping for a sudden miracle, but trying to be realistic at the same time. If I do not have success in the next few days, I will have to go back to Jackson for another surgery.

Sometimes I am not really sure if I should be laughing or crying about all this (I have done both simultaneously on more than one occasion). I just wish for once that my body would cooperate and take a step forward rather than two steps back. I am going on my fifth week with a catheter, I spent my Christmas season in bed, I can't go pee, and I have officially decided that life is hard! I know that I have learned a great deal from all of these experiences, but I can't wait for this burden to be lifted. I know my time will come...but in tell then, I am learning to be tough. After all, this life is not for the faint in heart!

A Year Lost...

I know I haven't posted in a while...I seem to be at a lose for words these days (which is a rare for me), but don't worry, I may make up for my lack of words in this post- Be prepared!

Over the past several days, I have done a great deal of reflection upon this past year. I always send out a yearly update with my Christmas card that reflects upon the events of our lives over the course of that year. They are usually accomplishments we made, adventures we took, or big events that happened. This year I sat in front of the computer, just staring at a blank page with absolutely nothing to say to my friends and family regarding anything that would appear exciting to them. Our accomplishments (if you could call them that) have been much more internal.

This year has been made up of doctor's visits, hospital stays, tests, diagnosis', incisions, needles, pee cups, catheters, medication, and tears. Lots and lot's of tears. Outside of that, we have accomplished very little. In a sense it has consumed our lives, especially mine.

We set out on this journey around September of last year. I was officially sick of being sick, and desperately ready to start a family. I began to gather my medical records from the many escapades to the doctor taken in my youth. I did heavy research on the doctors and hospitals in the area. After years of pushing it to the side, I was hoping I would wake up one day and all of my medical problems would have magically disappeared. But that was simply not the case. I had to face the reality that if I ever wanted to be healthy and start a family I was going to have to be a bit more proactive.

It was not an easy journey and it has seemingly consumed a year of my a life. Six doctors, eight surgeries, nine incisions, ten tests, and countless IV's, shots, and urine specimens.I started this year with a surgery in late January and I am closing it with another major surgery at the beginning of December. I am left spending my December childless, on bed rest with a catheter, and an undecorated Christmas tree (I know that it sounds grim, but there is just no way for me to sugar coat it).

I am typically an optimist, one who hates to be around those who are always complaining about their circumstance rather than making the best of what they have been given. Although, my optimism is a little more dim than in years past, I am well aware that the Lord has been by my side, that he has carried me when I could not stand and that his hand has been in all things. I am unbelievably grateful for the team of doctors that have played such a role in diagnosing and treating my conditions. I am grateful for the technology that exists, making their diagnosis and treatments possible. My heart is so full of thanks to the countless prayers offered on our behalf.

In some ways I feel as though I have lost a year of my life, but I am in hopes that because of this year lost, I will gain many more. I have piles of papers and magazines that have stacked up, thank you cards that have not been written, blog postings that have not been made, pictures that have not been taken, and deep cleaning that has not been done. When I wasn't at the doctors, I was working, and when I wasn't working, I was trying to stay ahead, but I was really just falling behind in life and in sleep. My body feels pretty beaten up and exhausted.

Another Surgery:

In a sense, I am at the end of my rope or in other words running out of options. If this next surgery/doctor isn't able to correct things there really isn't much else that can be done.

In early December we drove to Jackson, MS to see a doctor I had never met before, for I surgery I knew very few details about. We were referred to this doctor by my urologists here in Little Rock who had already earned my full trust. We were told that there was only a handful of doctors in the country that could preform this surgery. We were very fortunate that the best one was only 4.5 hours away in Mississippi.

We arrived Tuesday December 1st for my 1 o'clock appointment. He looked over my records, asked me a few questions, did a vaginal exam, and within about 5 minutes gave me a diagnosis of mild female Hypospadias. Female hypospadias is were the urethra opens into the vagina. It is the third most common birth defect in males (with a misplaced opening on the penis), but is extremely rare in females occurring in about 1 in every 500,000 to 1 million births (pretty good odds right...I will add that to my "specialness" list)! The definition of hypospadias, I was already aware that I had, but after years of doctors, surgeries, and personal research...I finally had a name to attach to the definition! And I received that diagnosis after seeing this doctor for 5 measly minutes...he was good! There is very little information about female hypospadias since it is so rare, but more than likely it was caused by my mullerian anomaly which attributed to my uterine malformation.

I informed him that after years of seeing different urologists when I was younger, I was told that I just needed to deal with it and the problems that it caused because there was noway to correct it. I was at total peace when he responded, "well, I am not going to tell you that here". He then scheduled me for surgery first thing on Wednesday, December 2nd.

The surgery went practically "perfect" and we came out with the most "optimal" scenario. I have a few additional scars to add to my collection. My doctor took a skin graft from the vaginal area to rebuild and elongate my urethra, placing it in the appropriate position. He also did a pelvic sling which required an additional deep skin graft taken from the abdomen, along with a 3.5" incision for the placement of the sling (creating an upside down "T" or anchor-like design on my stomach).

With both of these corrections (along with the previous correction of my left ureter done in April), it will "ideally" eliminate my chronic urinary tract infections (UTI), and mild urinary incontinence (which up until today I have never had the bravery to discuss or admit I suffered from on this blog). It is one of those things, that as a child/teenager you hold very close because of the embarrassment from such a condition. The more I open up and share that detail with others, the more I learn that although my scenerio/cause is much different, I am not alone. Many women are plagued with such a condition after child birth and age.

I spent 4 days in the hospital and returned home from Jackson with a urethral catheter. I have not been allowed to sit for 3 weeks while my catherter is in place. I know that sounds like an easy task but it's not! I travel back to Jackson tomorrow to have my catherter removed and x-rays taken to assure that everything healed properly.

The reconstructive operation is very complex, due to the female anatomy and the lack of females diagnosed with the condition. Their are several potential problems that can arise (all of which can be corrected with minor surgery) if things do not heal properly. But in essence, I am fixed! Well, at least as best as I can be. I have a lot of new and improve plumbing, but I am still missing a few crucial parts to conceive naturally. But because of this, I can hopefully live a more healthy life which in turn will allow me to be a better mother when the opportunity is given to me. That is my year...thanks for all of your prayers and support!

P.S. I hope this all makes sense...I am still somewhat medicated from surgery ; )

A Five Day Stay in the Hospital…

Here is an account of my experience in the hospital during my last surgery. It is long and detailed, so if you not interested, please ignore it. I wrote it in detail because I knew I would forget otherwise (especially considering all the meds I was on). During the procedure they reconstructed my left ectopic ureter (ureter-the tube draining urine from the kidney to the bladder) and re-implanted it into my bladder wall. Over the course of my life time it was previously draining urine into my uterus. This obviously creates a myriad of health issues which have finally been resolved. I feel tremendously blessed to have found a doctor who could finally diagnose the problem and to my Heavenly Father for cutting me a break. I am looking forward to a healthier life and for the chance to begin our family by some means undecided by us and the Lord. If you are interested in the details of the most challenging physical, mental, and emotional struggle I have ever faced, please read on….

After 5 days in the hospital, 15 shots, 3 IV's, 3 new incisions, 2 suppositories, 2 catheters, 1 epidural, 1 stent, and lots of medication… I have finally returned home. This experience has been the most challenging physical trial I have ever been through. I went into the surgery prepared for what I knew would be the hardest recovery I would have to face thus far, but nonetheless, I was optimistic! I was optimistic that I was young and healthy and that my recovery would surely be quicker than most. I had no idea just what kind of wake-up call I was in for.

Everything done surgically went just as planned; it was the recovery that would prove differently. Moments before I was taken into the operating room, my doctor strongly recommended that I get an epidural to control my pain during recovery. I am not typically afraid of needles or shots, but I have to admit I was completely beside myself with fear! They gave me a sedative to calm my nerves before giving me the epidural, but I don't think I ever really calmed down until it was done! Dave commented that I wouldn't shut-up and I kept making random comments. The nurse assured him I probably wouldn't remember any of it when I woke up. It wasn't nearly as bad as I think I had made it up to be in my head (the IV's were definitely more painful than the epidural).

My five day hospital stay seemed never ending. My nurses during the day were less than great. The night nurse's seemed to be the most prompt with my care. They came in every few hours to check my blood pressure, pulse, and temperature, so as you might imagine, sleep was seldom and interrupted. Saturday was a difficult day as I couldn't keep anything down. Vomiting is never fun… but vomiting with a large incision in your stomach and 4 tubes hanging from you is horrible. Dave left me for a few hours to go home and take a shower and get some food. During that time they brought me a "wonderfully" prepared hospital meal (no sarcasm intended). It was the first bit of solid food since the operation and I was pretty excited about it. I took it easy but about half way through the meal I started to feel sick. With practically no warning, I threw-up all over my lunch tray. I pressed my nurse call button and informed the nurse's desk I had thrown-up. I figured this would result in someone being sent to help. After waiting for about 10 minutes and trying every attempt possible to not vomit again, I paged the nurse's desk a second time. This time I was in tears and informed them I needed something to throw-up in immediately. After waiting a while they finally came with something for me to throw-up in besides my lunch tray (not that I was planning on eating any more of it anyways). My mom arrived late that evening and dropped by for a quick hello before I fell asleep.

Sunday was the best day I had during my stay in the hospital. Maybe it was because the Lord knew I needed a break since it was the Sabbath. I never threw-up and I was alert and talkative for most of the day. Monday I woke up to more nausea and vomiting and the discouragement that I would not be going home yet. Before the surgery the Doctor said I would have to stay in the hospital for a minimum of three nights but he would judge my stay according to my progress. In the back of my mind, all I heard was three nights, and that is all I had prepared myself for. On the bright side, the doctor ordered my 2^nd (urethra) catheter to be removed, which meant one less tube attached to me! The urethra catheter was very uncomfortable, so its removal brought me a much needed smile.

Tuesday would prove to be my most challenging day. After a very sleepless night, my Doctor came by for a visit at 5:30 in the morning. He informed me that it the end of the time clock with what had become a dear friend, as they would be removing my epidural. The rest of the day was a bit of an awaking as I don't think any of us quit understood how much GOOD the epidural was doing at managing my pain. After its removal, it was very clear how much pain it had been covering up. The pain made me vomit and the vomit created more pain! Most of the pain was resulting from bladder spasms. I was warned prior to my operation that they were very painful and similar to contractions. I was having several problems with my super-pubic catheter draining properly as well. They wheeled me down to radiology to do an x-ray of my abdomen. This was to make sure there were not any twists or kinks in the catheter. The doctor also wanted me to try taking my pain medication by mouth in preparation for my IV removal. It was all I could do to try and keep my pain meds down and the anti-nausea medicine never seemed to help.

Wednesday's early morning doctor's visit was filled with many mixed emotions. I received the exciting news that everything looked as though I would finally be able to return home. He ordered my fluids in my IV to be reduced and removed my JP (incision drain) in preparation for my release. The JP drain is like a suction bulb with a LONG tube attached to the end of it. That tube is inserted into my abdomen to drain fluid from the incision site. The bulb is drained several times a day to measure the amount of fluid the incision is producing. The doctor snipped a few of the stitches around the JP which held it in place. He then proceeded to tell me to take a deep breath...

What took place after that deep breath became a sudden blur of some of the worse sudden pain I have ever experienced in my life. I literally screamed in pain during the removal (I am sure I woke up the entire floor at 6 in morning). The tube felt never ending as he pulled and pulled and pulled. I know this maybe a little graphic, but since this is my way of journaling my experience I will share it. As he pulled I could feel chunks of my flesh coming out with the tube. In that moment, I felt as if my insides were being ripped out and every part of me was ready to call it quits. I laid there in complete tears as he assured me that the removal of my super-pubic catheter would feel nothing like that experience. It wasn't too long after he left that the nausea and vomiting returned. I am sure it was due to the state of shock that I was in after the removal of the JP drain. The rest of the day seemed fairly uneventful until my discharge late that afternoon.

The wheelchair ride to the car and car ride home were both "bumpy", but I survived. Coming home was a huge relief, but also an enormous challenge. I then had to adjust to my "stuff" with my new equipment. I had grown to love the adjustable bed at the hospital (it was really more of a love-hate relationship). It made getting up and down, in and out, much easier. The hospital bed was also equipped with adequate areas to hang my catheter bag (or as I like to call it, my pee bag). At the hospital, I didn't have to worry about getting any "gross stuff" (I will leave that up for interpretation) on my furniture, floor, rugs, ect. I have my post-op appointment next Thursday, and I am really hoping the will remove my super pubic catheter (aka: the "un-super" pubic catheter).

We have been so grateful to everyone who has kept us in their thoughts and prayers. We have appreciated the generous meals and visits. I still have a long way to go, but things seem to be healing. My mom has been a tremendous help and I have especially enjoyed her company. I hope it is all downhill from here…

Life's pivotal moments

There are times in each one of our lives that leave us changed forever. Moments when we are molded and shaped by our life's experiences. Moments where old chapters end and new chapters begin.

Over the course of my life time, I have had many pivotal moments, many new chapters in my life's book. The past year seems to fill my personal pages with such moments. There are so many changes taking place, not only spiritually, but physically, mentally, and emotionally.

After 12 years of being sick (more severely the past 5 years), I finally have answers, but more importantly solutions! My exploratory surgery, done on the 27th of March, revealed just what the doctor was suspecting. He found a left ectopic ureter (please read previous post for further explanation). Proceeding the surgery, they rushed me over to radiology to run tests on my kidney. The function of my kidney would determine what the best surgical option would be for me. The good news... it functions! The bad news... only about 40% of what is should.

The past several weeks have been a whirl-wind preparing for surgery number three, in less than three months. This surgery will be the most extensive and challenging of them all! Estimated recovery time is 4-6 weeks, 3 weeks of which I will have a FABULOUS catheter (I feel like I am 90... what 24 year old should have to wear a catheter for 3 weeks!). The doctor informed me that I was not allowed to drive and I was to stay home while I have the catheter. As if it was some questions that I would be out and about carrying my lovely pee bag around to show off as a souvenir from my surgery. No, I think I am rather content at home with such a prized possession.

Thankfully, the doctor can go over my old 4"scar (from my major surgery from childhood) because I was really not looking forward to adding another to the collection! I guess you won't find me out on the beach in my bikini this year (not that you would anyways). It is hard to imagine that by the time I am recovered, it will be June. I am pretty much out of commission for the entire month of May.

I have been keeping an extensive to-do list in attempt to make sure everything is in order before I go in for surgery. It is now the eve of the big day and the last thing left on my list is to blog about this pivotal moment in my life. This is a moment I have waited, hoped, and dreamed about. I will leave for the surgery tomorrow morning with all my urinary problems and return home with brand new plumbing. It is expected that I will no longer suffer from UTI's and Kidney infections, but only time will tell. Either way, I know this is a new chapter in my book, and one that I hope will be much healthier. It is a pivotal moment that I hope will lead to a chapter on motherhood.

Pieces

My surgery to remove my right uterine horn (which had no communication with my actual uterus and was suspected to have endometrosis) finally arrived last Tuesday. Everything went well and as planned and I am recovering. This surgery has left me with feelings and emotions that I don't typically allow myself to have. It is as if the surgery just sucked all of the positivity and optimism right out of me. The reality that my body will never allow me to conceive a child naturally has set in more than ever. The reality of how I was born, and what has been taken and removed, and how it simply cannot be fixed or replaced is clear.

I returned to work this Wednesday and to the love and concern of the people with whom I work with. The other designer I work with asked for a better explanation than I had previously given her of just what exactly they did. The best way I knew to explain it was by drawing a picture. I pulled out my sticky notes and drew what a normal uterus looks like and gave a brief explanation of the parts (uterus, fallopian tubes, and ovaries). Then, right below that image, I drew what my anatomy looked like when I was born. That image was followed, by how my anatomy looks now (after two surgeries). When I glanced down at my own drawing, I realized just how pitiful it looked. And not just because of my artistic inabilities, but rather that there really wasn't much there. It was all just a bunch of PIECES, none of which do what they are suppose to do.

I am left with two fabulous ovaries. The right has a fallopian tube to communicate with, but no uterus communication. The left side contains my unicornuate uterus (half the normal uterus), but does not have a fallopian tube to make communication between my uterus and left ovary(my left fallopian tube was removed as a child). Simply put... a bunch of useless PIECES, a scar covered tummy, and no baby to hold and call my own.

Part 2 of My Story

(If you haven't read Part 1, please click here)

Now that I have finished school, the reality that I am not a mother has set in harder than it had previously. When we moved to Arkansas I decided that I was ready to pursue more options and try and find solutions. This past year has been exceptionally hard as I have been faced with more UTI's than in the past and my body hasn't responded the same to the antibiotics as it has before.

Little Rock has a wonderful university medical center that I felt very good about and so I began the process of getting answers. I gathered and requested all of my medical records from the past 13 years of my life so that I would be able to give the doctors a better understanding of my situation. I set up a family care doctor so that I could get referrals to see the doctors at UAMS. At this point, I was finally able to make my appointments. When I did so, I could have never anticipated the wait that would follow. I made appointments with 2 doctors, a urologists and an OB/GYN. The earliest that I would be able to get into either doctor would be over 2 months. A week before my first appointment with the OB/GYN I received a letter in the mail informing me that they had pushed back my appointment for another month and a half. I was so frustrated after waiting so long to find out that I would have to wait even longer. Not to mention the fact that I had been bleeding for over 3 months and I was unsure why. As I explained this situation to the nurse who rescheduled my appointment, she simply said, "well, you have your appointment with the urologist in a few days, see what he says about it". Then to make matters worse, I received a call the day before my urologist appointment to inform me that they would need to move my appointment back one more month. And so the waiting process began again...

When the urologist appointment finally arrived they meant business. It was a long wait to get in to the doctor, but once I was in, he wasted no time in running test, after test, after test to try and get to the root of the problem and to get a clear understanding of my anatomy. He then confirmed, as my childhood urologist had already done, that my urethra was about 1 cm off from where it was suppose to be located. This in turn, directs a small amount of urine into the vaginal cavity and causes a significant amount of urinary tract infections along with a myriad of other issues. He then said that in his 35 years of practicing, he has never seen this situation before and wasn't sure if it would be able to be corrected or not. I then received a referral to see another urologist, as he attempted to comfort me by saying, "if there was a doctor who would have a solution it would be this new doctor". We then went to make the appointment only to be informed that there would be another two month wait to get into see him. This appointment will be December 12th, and I am very hopeful he will be able to repair and correct my urethra.

As for the OB/GYN, I went to that appointment and was again referred to another doctor who specializes in fertility treatment. Luckily this appointment was scheduled just a week and a half following this visit.

My first fertility appointment arrived November 10th, and I could hardly contain my excitement of the possibility that he would have an answer for me as to why I have been unable to get pregnant. Once again he wasted no time in finding a solution, as I underwent a series of tests and blood work. He discovered that I was not ovulating and that is why I had been bleeding for several months. He then ordered and HSG test to determine if there was any blockage in my right fallopian tube (since I only have one) and to get a clear picture of the shape of my uterus. During an HSG test, they shoot dye into you uterus and watch the path of the dye flow out through your fallopian tubes. It is done by taking a consecutive series of x-ray images as the dye is injected. It causes severe cramping for the point of dye injection up to two days later. I had watched a video of a normal HSG test before I went in for the procedure so I would know what to expect.

During the procedure I couldn't see the screen of the X-rays, but once they were done, the doctor sat me up and pulled the screen over to show me the results. The second I saw the images, my heart sank. I knew something wasn't right because my images looked nothing like the normal HSG test I had watched online. I left the hospital that Wednesday with a brief explanation of what the doctor thought might be wrong, but he told me that my fertility doctor would go over the results with me on Thursday. In my heart, I knew the outcome was not what I was hoping for. I spent the rest of Wednesday lying in bed because of pain from the procedure while I looked online for further explanation of what I had seen. There was alot of tears as I read through article after article describing my situation.

Yesterday was the follow up appointment for the test results. Going into the appointment, I had pretty much prepared myself for what the doctor would be telling me. He sat us down in his office and went through everything with us for almost an hour. I was born with a rare uterine abnormality known as a unicornuate uterus. This basically means I have about half the uterus that most women have. My unicornuate uterus has a left horn and a right non-communicating rudimentary horn (as seen in the diagram below, for a picture of a normal uterus please click here).




I have a very healthy right ovary and fallopian tube but there is no communication between them and my uterus. It is suggested that there are several women who have this condition and never experiance any problems from it. It is often diagnosed when a women suffers from repeated miscarriages, pre-term births, or infertiltiy. In my situation it has caused steralization. This is due to the fact that they removed the only fallopian tube that had communication with my uterus because of the damage the tube withstood as child. My uterine malformation was not discovered during my childhood operations because of the initial distortion of the organs from the blood that they held.

The doctor also suspects that I have endometrosis. He has suggested that I undergo a laprasopic surgery to remove my right uterine horn and fallopian tube and the portion still remaining of my left fallopian tube. This will resolve the pain caused from the endometrosis which has built up in my rudimentary horn and decrease the risk of any tubal pregnancies. I am waiting to see if the urologist will be able to operate on me to correct my urethra, and if so, I will have each doctor do their surgeries on the same day.

My options for motherhood are IVF (invitro fertilization), surrogacy, or adoption. If we were to go forward with IVF they would only be able to implant one egg at a time (they usually implant multiple Embryo's). This decreases the chance of the procedure being as affective. They would do this because of the risk involved if all the embryos took and I carried a multiples. Because of my uterine size, carrying just one is like carrying multiples for everyone else. I would be considered a very high risk pregnancy and the chance of miscarriage and preterm births are very high. The babies are usually breeched as well, because there is not enough room for the fetus to turn.

Amongst a lot of sorrow, there is certainly hope, but I have a significant amount of odds to fight. I know that if it is meant to be, the Lord will provide a way. Please keep us in your prayers as we continue are quest to become parents. I can't thank you enough for the immense amount of love and support that you all have shown. I will keep everyone updated as to what we find out over the coming months.

Part 1 of My Story

My road to motherhood has not been easy, but it is my hearts greatest desire and hope that someday I can say, "it was all worth it".

For the majority of my childhood I led a very happy and healthy life. At the age of 11 that all seemed to change right before my eyes and my life has been a medical battle ever since. That battle has been a personal struggle, but I wish to say, that I have been richly blessed in dealing with such a trail. We are all given certain trials or challenges in our life for one reason or another, and in all honesty I am not sure I would trade my challenges for one second to receive another individual's earthly test.

The first time I can ever really remember having pain was when I went to girl's camp for church. I remember telling the nurse at camp of how I was feeling and she quickly gave me the prognosis that I was just starting my menstrual cycle for the first time and experiencing menstrual cramps. This same cramping pain went on for several months. I remember times when it would get so bad I would wake up in the middle of the night and lay in a warm bath of water in an attempt to sooth the pain. Then one day while lying in my bed, I noticed a large lump on my abdomen about the diameter of a golf ball. My mom rushed me to our family doctor a few tests were performed and I was then referred to an OB/GYN. That visit to the OB/GYN would inevitably change my life forever.

Unfortunately I don't remember all the details or really even the sequence of the events following that appointment. I guess in my way of coping with the situation as a 12 year old, I have blocked many portions out. What I do remember about that day is that what they discovered wasn't positive. During an ultrasound they discovered what they thought to be two VERY large ovarian cysts (one on each ovary). The mass on the right measured 16.5 x 9 x 10 cm, and the mass on the left measured 6.2 x 4 x 6 cm. The doctor recommended that I undergo an exploratory laparatomy to have the masses removed and intern my ovaries as well. She went into great detail about the repercussions of such an outcome and also the possibility of other diagnosis's if that was not what they found. The outcomes that she listed included ovarian cancer, possible loss of hormonal function, and sterilization. At that time the only possible outcome I remembered hearing was the last.

Although at the tender age of 12, pregnancy and motherhood were about the two furthest things from my mind, it still seems to be what you mold your life around as a female. The grim possibility that I would not be able to ever bear children wasn't what I had planned or could have ever expected for myself. The diagnosis the doctor felt most confident in, would result in not being able to have children. It was more than I could swallow or understand. When we returned home, I remember running next door to where my best friend lived and crying to her about what they had just told me.

I underwent the surgery a few days later but the diagnosis quickly changed when they surgically went into my abdomen. They did not discover cysts on my ovaries, but rather a large left fallopian tube that was completely scarred shut and blood filled and an enlarged, distorted uterus extending up to my umbilicus. They then went in vaginally to find a thick vaginal septum, this was opened which released between 350-400cc of old, thick, tarry blood from my uterus and left fallopian tube. Basically I had started my menstrual cycle for the first time approximately 3 months before hand, but because of the vaginal septum the menses had nowhere to go. The damage that my organs had withstood from holding the blood, in turn resulted in the removal of my left fallopian tube.

As for the battle wound, I have a nice 3.5" scar along my abdomen which included 26 staples at the time of the surgical recovery. I spent three days in the hospital on large amounts of morphine and received several visits, with lots of gifts and flowers, from friends and family. Those few days in the hospital are filled with funny stories of all the crazy things I did because of the medications… it's the one part of this story that as a family we could all laugh about. My dad's favorite one is when I attempted to take a drink from a juice box that they had given me. I made it about half way from the tray in front of me to my mouth, at which point I fell asleep.

There were a few other minor surgeries and procedures in the months that followed to attempt to correct some problems that arose after the major operation. Unfortunately, those problems remain with me today and are the one aspect of this whole story that is too personal for me to share with everyone. These congenital issues have resulted in a series of Chronic UTI's (urinary tract infections) and in a few severe cases those UTI's have spread into my kidneys causing unbearable kidney infections.

This basically sums up "Part 1" of my story. "Part 2" begins in more recent months as I have actively seeked out answers, and more importantly, solutions, to the chronic UTI's and heart breaking infertility. I am not emotionally ready to share this portion of my story with you tonight, but I hope that tomorrow will give me new strength as I continue down my road to motherhood.

For a link to Part 2, click here.