Monday, February 27, 2012


It has been almost two weeks since the surgery.   It's a quiet morning, the dogs asleep, and so is mother who is visiting to help out during my recovery.    I'm savoring my chicory coffee, which I hadnt for a long while.  I love my mother, don't get me wrong, but don't mess with her when she makes coffee for herself. So her sleeping, I took the advantage to make chicory coffee!  
I have been looking at the scabs and the healing cut where the uterus had been removed, and I was thinking, "It looks so simple, the cut, but like layers, it hides my hurt."  The hurt, as not the physical pain (I do experience it now and then, thank gods for the pain medication!), but the emotional pain- the reality has been hitting me with a baseball bat more frequently.    It even hurts more when friends tell me "You'll get better," "You'll get over it soon" and "You're lucky- I had more pain than that."  This is not what one truly wants to hear during her recovery which includes grief for the loss of her uterus, which had more meanings for womanhood and motherhood, than one could imagine.   When I hear "You'll get better," I get the mega message, "I don't know what to say, but to dismiss your hurt and make myself feel good by saying you'll get better."   When I see "you'll get over it soon," I get the mega message, "Stop moping around, you're overreacting!"   Perhaps I'm over-interpreting, but truly, you don't SAY that to someone who had lost someone, would you?  "You'll get over it soon", would you say that to someone who lost his brother to cancer?  Would you say "you'll get better" to someone who had lost her son in a car accident?    SAME concept.  

Excellent website about what to NOT say to someone in grief....

Yes, you're reading me right.  I'm grieving-  no I had not lost someone- you're damn right about that.   but I had lost potential children, with the removal of uterus and an ovary- hence I'm grieving for children that I will not get to know, never to be born to me. 

And if anyone suggests adoption and surrogancy,  again, that is not something that one needs to hear during grief.   To suggest either at this time is to relegate and dismiss the grieving survivor's emotions.   After all, would you say "You'll remarry again" to someone who had lost his spouse?  Would YOU? 

So, for me, and for women who had gone through similiar surgery, please don't presume to determine our emotions for ourselves, and don't rush us through our grief.  This is for us to go through, in going through time, to adjust to a new world that may not include children, or perhaps options in the future-  GIVE us time, and support, without any attempts to say something to make YOU feel better, while making US feel worse.  If you don't know what to say, then don't say anything... Just give us loving support or be quiet.  

After all, we don't need y'all to pick at our scabs....  literally.   What we need is for you to listen, support and look at the scabs to recognize how much we are hurting.

Fuzzy kids

I have two kids-  the furry type, that is.  Lola, "Whatever Lola Wants, Lola Gets", and Hairy Potter, thro he has no resemblance to that burnette wizard with glasses. 


Hairy Potter

I have always loved animals since I was a baby.   We had even Simaese cats sleeping in my crib while I was a baby...(and yeah, I lived, so that Myth of cats sucking breaths from babies isn't real.)  We had cats, dogs, fish (and I'm telling you...MAKE sure that you don't get guppies with bigger colorful fins or you'd have to deal with baby guppies!), hamsters, guinea pigs, snakes, gerbils, etc.   What animals I didn't grow up with were ferrets.  Cute, but smelly.  Horses were in the picture, with a lot of bareback riding, apples and kisses.  Some of my relatives live on farms, so we have farm cats- feral, that is. 

Anyway, I have found interacting with animals more comfortable and enjoyable than with people, most of the time. After all, who'd kiss you with an unconditional lap of tongue or receive a contented purr from the chest while cuddling?  Also death came as natural, with the first dog being put down when I was very little, and of some cats disappearing, and of poking at cold bodies of hamsters; as well with new life, of a dog giving birth to 5 puppies, or of adopting two kittens. 

Watching the mother dog giving birth to the puppies was quite an eye-opener.  I experienced joy seeing the new puppies, but then despair when I found one puppy dead the next day.    A new mother cat, not yet dropping kittens, hovered around me, not wanting to give birth unless I could get a box and put it next to me.  I watched The Crosby Show, keeping my hand on the mother cat's stomach gently, as she gave birth to kittens.

Experiencing those, made me more curious about human repoduction, especially pregnancy and having a baby.  I started to ask family, "Where do babies come from?" Of course, we know the answers to kids...

Anyway, I do believe loving and taking care of creatures,that have hearts, helped me understand better of how babies can trust you, and to love you unconditionally, and to expose worlds overlooked, and that was what I looked forward to, for a start.  

One reason a dog can be such a comfort when you're feeling blue is that he doesn't try to find out why.  ~Author Unknown

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Vertical Cut

Right now, I'm in the hospital-  my uterus and one ovary (wrapped up in a fibroid) had been removed yesterday.   I hadn't yet allowed myself to think of the context of that surgery, otherwise I'd be bawling and that'd hurt my stomach (they did a vertical cut, hence no laughter, coughing or sneezing).
I had seen the doctor today, who was here to follow up. She reported that they did not expect the cyst to be bigger than a cantaloupe; they were surprised to find that it was bigger (hence the longer vertical cut), the length/width as a real football
Main reason I hadn't allowed myself to think is, I believe, that it isn't 'yet real.'  I know the vertical cut is there, I can see it, but I hadn't yet seen any photos of the cyst that I had requested for.     At least, I have an ovary, which is good.  Should be sufficient if I consider surrogacy.
Seeing so many folks comment on my photos/status since yesterday is out of the world- I didn't expect to get this amount of care.  I was thinking, "since no one showed up at the rehab hospital to see me (recovering from two broken legs and broken c-6 vertebra, why should they care now?"    yes, I sound pitiful, but I need that.  A majority wishes me getting well, better, while others spoke of their experience (with hysterecony), which helps me realize I'm not alone.   Actually there are friends that I hadn't spoke to for a long time, had opened up to me in private messages, saying they had too experienced an abdominal hysterconoy and what helped them out mostly is support and patience.   so I' looking forward to it.....

Oh, trust me, I'll break down crying, but for now, nothing.  I'll wait for my dearest close friend to come here in 2 weeks (2/28th) and I'll then feel safe to do so.

Saturday, February 4, 2012


Before I go on about what I was starting to find out, starting in September, 2011; I want to tell you a bit about me and my dream of having children.

I grew up, independent as encouraged by family, to be self resilient.  I did that despite the frustrations of communication.  Why communication?  I am Deaf.  Yes, you read it right, I'm Deaf.    I use both English and American Sign Language.  I loved to read as a kid, and I still do.  What I didn't like to do- was playing with dolls (like Barbie or baby dolls), dress-up or house as a kid.  I have read of women saying they dreamed of having kids while playing with dolls, changing diapers or feeding the dolls, even collecting numerous baby/child dolls and clothes when they were girls.    Me, I didn't like dolls, but for stuffed animals (horses and wolves) and Breyer horses. 

I had been a tomboy as long as I could remember, and it helped that most children in the neighborhood were boys, and most of my cousins were boys (except for one girl on mom's side, and two girls on dad's side).   I'd grab my bike to go riding with the boys, exploring the world out there, playing Jedis vs Empire (our version of Cowboys and Indians), climbing trees, pretending I'm on another world fighting dragons while rescuing princesses or towns, etc.    Granted, I did play a bit of Barbie with my girl cousin, only if we could include Breyer horses so we'd have a doll riding the horse, "Horsie, horsie!  I need to ride, so I'd rescue Ken!" 

Nevertheless, when I could see real babies during my childhood, I'd dash toward the baby just like a bee to honey.  Looking at the mother, wiggling my hands, my eyes questioning.  Often than not, the mother would smile and hand the baby into my arms (or on my lap if I was sitting).   I loved holding the tiny hands, staring at the sleeping baby's face, smelling the baby powder.  I loved carrying the baby and would try to play with the baby "goo-goo" babbling, laughing, and peek-a-boo, before I'd reluctantly hand the baby back to the mother.

Throughout my young adulthood, so many friends exclaimed how their babies would be fussing and screaming, and I'd come and say, "hand 'im over here."  Once the baby settles in my arms, something amazing occurs.... silence, or soft cooing.  You could hear a pin drop in this content silence.   Babies would curl up in my arms, studying my face as if they are seeing something that is there that makes them calm. 

My jobs throughout years included care-giving and supervising group homes, rehabilitation instructor and other human services that included working with clients, the range covering from mental illnesses to development disabilities.  People, either co-workers, supervisors, or parents/guardians told me the very same thing, "you are a natural!" as they look at the clients who had caused high turnovers among staff, now calm and self confident, or at least starting to become semi-independent.  "You have so much patience.  You listen, you believe in them, even when they didn't believe in themselves in the first place."  Often I had heard "you're a mother hen!" when I'd walk in to team meetings or staff meetings with my nose flared, with angry determination to advocate for the clients in whatever they need toward independence, autonomy and support.  "You should have children, you'd be a good mother!" 

I'd smile and say, "Thanks- but not now.  But I'll get to that later!" 

I imagined that I'll get to experience motherhood, to explore the swelling of my belly, the hormones and morning nausea and at last, to hold the baby in my arms after labor.  I'd walk through the baby section at department stores and smile while imaging my baby wearing this piece of clothes, or playing with that toy.  I touched baby comforters and quilts, dreaming what the nursery would look like, and what the kid could want in his room while growing up. I looked at books, with hoping that the child would like to read too, me introducing her to worlds at her fingers.  I hiked and fished, thinking "it'd be more fun with the kid, seeing the world through his eyes!"  I handled an adolescent godchild or two, with their attitudes, with delight, knowing that it is good practice for when I'd have a child growing into a teenager. I saved things from my childhood in goal of passing them on to my kid, knowing that they'd even like that, such as my childhood books or the quilt that was given to me as a baby from my great grandmother.   I would look at cousins or friends' babies, holding them, kissing them, and think, "I can't wait to have my own baby!"

Guess I shouldn't have put all my eggs in that basket.

Thursday, February 2, 2012


Throughout my life, I have had a variety of dreams like everyone.  I dreamed of being a writer and a biologist.  I dreamed of living in New York City or London.  It was a dream of mine to go into education for doctorate studies in psychology and counseling, or to teach about mindfulness and holistic self-care.  As everyone have dreams like that, less or more, including love, marriage, children and seeing surprise dawning upon a child at peek-a-boo, with laughter following.   That's what I dreamed, too.

I admit that I had long term planning, as organizing as going to school, finding a satisfying career, traveling and exploring worlds out there, settling down and having a child or two, with or without a partner. That's how I worked it out. 
Twenty years ago, I was too young- there was so much life offering to me, and I wanted to seize that without feeling obligated to have a child that society expects of us women.  I also knew I had a lot of things to work on, especially with healing spiritually and emotionally. Not something that'd be easy to do in a few months or even years. 

Ten years ago, I felt it was not the right time, especially with me in middle of schooling, being productive with my career and exploring worlds out there.  After that, experiencing a traumatic life-changing incident where I had to re-learn to put socks on, feed myself and walk, all over again, I realized life is too short.

With that in mind, I went head-long to complete goals, finishing graduate schooling, finishing learning of wondrous training I had always dreamed of getting, traveling through England and Wales, and experiencing a lot of extraordinary things that many people would never experience in all their lives.

But of children, I told myself, "I need to find someone I can trust and love, with communication and support. As a team. I will not marry someone just to have children, which I felt for me, is selfish- using the spouse for the purpose of breeding only.  If I cannot find someone with belief of equality, balance and support, I will do it by myself, somehow."

I was ready last summer, starting to brainstorm what I need to do to get pregnant. A plan was developing with joy and eagerness to see it all bud into bloom.

"The best laid schemes of mice and men / Go often askew."
John Steinbeck


After days, even weeks, I had been juggling on whether to write a blog on my experiences from the beginning and what I'm going through currently:  infertility.  Just one word, but it is something fearsome especially if one wants children and fear, "Will I ever have children?"

I have looked at many infertility blogs and realized something remarkable yet different.  I sympathize with the women and men struggling with inferility, nevertheless they still have....


By that what I mean, they go through medical procedures to figure out what's wrong, and to find options in increasing their fertility; which may include taking fertility drugs, IVF (in vitro fertilitization), surgery, artifical inseminsation, gamete intrafalopian transfer (GIFT), Zygote intrafallopian transfer (ZIFT), intracytoplasmic sperm injection (ICSI), and donor eggs/sperms.  Surrogacy is included as well.

Hence, there are options, giving the sense of hope that somehow, one will pull up a good hand of cards and end up having a newborn in their arms. 

The difference for me is that I had a 'deck of cards' not yet opened, and then I didn't have it anymore. 

So you're welcome to walk the path with me as I figure how this is going to affect my life.