Renee Sendelbach I feel like a fish out of
what.
Well, I think that is how
I feel. I am not real sure how a fish out of water really feels.
But if the feeling is
difficulty breathing and only focusing on getting back to the water, then yes,
that is how I feel.
All I want right now is
for us to go back to our drama free lives. We were so happy sans drama. Just a few days ago.
Just a few days ago, none
of this was going on.
I am writing this while
sitting on a hard examination bed, in a small bleak room at my breast
specialist.
Half naked with a flimsy
paper gown on, that has to be open to the front, the ac turned down to freezing
and an IV stuck in my hand with a syringe taped down to my hand.
This is all after the
nurse missing the first stick of the IV in my arm and having to do it again in
my hand.
Really, really??
How do you f-ing miss my
vein?
This is what you do all
damn day, I wanted to yell.
But I didn’t. I didn’t say anything out loud. I just prayed quietly in my heart hoping this
somehow wasn’t real.
Before this hurrah at this office began, Eric and I already had a very rough
morning.
We went to the fertility
specialist to talk with her nurse about our situation.
As I said before, this is
the hardest part for me from all this is the thought of not being able to have
another baby.
Again, we received so
much information in such a little time frame, a time frame in which tears were
shed and laughs occurred.
I am not sure how to put
into words how I feel about the possibility of me not being able to have
another child.
It isn’t that I don’t
feel 100% complete with our family of 3 because I do. And I know if Ian has to
grow up without a brother or sister, he has a ton of little friends down in
Austin, cousins in Fort Worth and Michigan.
It is just one of the
hardest things to hear that I might not be able to give him a brother or
sister. I can’t imagine my life without my sister and I look at my nieces and
nephews and can’t imagine them without the other.
So there we sat, with this chart of expenses in front of us and all I can think
is, how can we put a price on this decision?
Price aside, I have to
figure out what my odds are going to be for me to carry a baby?
After lengthy discussion
with Eric, we are both in agreement that we don’t want a sergeant to carry our
child. So, all this is going to ride on what type of cancer I have. If it is
estrogen driven, I am fairly certain, I will not be able to even carry a child.
But then if it is DNA type, I THINK I would possibly be able to carry. And of
course, no matter what type it is, a lot will depend on the chemo treatment I
receive and if it throws me into early menopause.
Really? REALLY??
I might go through
menopause before my mom? Nice, I guess I will be able to give her helpful!
No matter what we look at here, how we make this decision, I am certain this
will be one of the most difficult decisions we will ever have to make.
I just keep thinking,
what if she tells me, you won’t be able to carry a child and then by some huge
miracle, I would be able to but we didn’t freeze any embryos? Or what if we
freeze 10 embryos, and then I can’t carry a child?
All I can think about is
what if I am leaving 10 kids frozen in time?
What are my beliefs here
and how do I figure them out in 24 hours.
And I just don’t think
there is anyone who can help me decide this.
Only my heart and my
heart is so torn right now I don’t know what to think.
All I know is that we
have to decide soon. Like in two days soon.
I either start the medicine now or I don’t.
There are so many balls in the air right now for me, Eric and us to try to
catch, exam and throw back up and keep the juggling act going.
This has been a hard day.
This post was one from the very beginning of this whole cancer journey. So much as changed with me going back and reading this again.
