six for six

Whoa. You folks don't play around when you say you're going to pray. What other possible explanation is there for the fact that we went six for six on my possible "Really Good Things" list at my appointment yesterday?? SIX FOR SIX!!! For REAL!! That's like...100%!! Since when has every possible thing gone right for me? A girl could get used to this. So feel free to go back and review the list, noting that each thing came to be or did not happen, whatever the case was.

And because I am SUPER awesome, I did a little photojournalism documentation of the day. Granted, if you follow me on Instagram or Twitter, you have seen/heard MOST of this-- but I saved a FEW things to be new and fresh, haha. So here we go. The official log of my visit:

 It rained during the drive there. Despite some moderate construction on 316, we still made it in an hour, which meant we arrived at the office with time to spare. That was nice, because we parked and re-parked in the deck several times before agreeing on the most optimal spot. We are awesome like that.


Once inside, we had to wait for awhile (because we were early), but there were lots of magazines, a Keurig, and a huge TV showing The Doctors (appropriate, right?) in the waiting room, so it wasn't too miserable. Eventually we went back to a room where they weighed me, took blood pressure, and...had us sit for a long time.

Luckily, we found this egg timer so tastefully decorated with a SPERM!! I mean...who doesn't want one of those?

 After awhile, we got to leave the little exam room and go wait in the doctor's office instead. This was a nice change of scenery, and there was a lovely shelf of light reading material to help us pass the time:

Matt decided to read up on his Infertility Counseling and skipped straight to the chapter about counseling people who are adopting during/after infertility. There were some passages of interest that I snapped pictures of:

"Sadness or anger around pregnant women that continues to be intense"? Nooo...not me...

The 5 steps!! Nice to see these written out somewhere other than on the interwebz. Anyone wanna have a conversation about going through those steps? Sheesh. That was a nightmare. Luckily, we've progressed through them all by now, although I'd be lying if I didn't say I don't go back and revisit different steps occasionally/frequently. But according to the latter half of the paragraph, that's okay. Glad we got that sorted out!


Finally, Dr. S came in. He apologize for being late, as he had to run real quick and get someone knocked up. I bet REs love making that joke. Except it isn't a joke. Good times.

He spent almost an hour and a half talking with us!!! Going over our records/history, asking questions, and talk-talk-talking. Let's be honest: there was a LOT of talk about IVF. There was a lot of talk about the probable prognosis of my reproductive system post-surgery. There was a lot of talk about Matt.

{Cool story: Back in 2010, the local urologist Matt had been seeing basically tossed up his hands and said "there's nothing I can do for you, you need to see a MFI specialist; make an appointment with Dr. W at ___, he's the best." So we'd made the appointment, but after scheduling it, found out that Dr. W was out-of-network (meaning we'd pay for everything OOP, the way we were already paying for all of MY treatment), and we just couldn't hack it, so we cancelled the appointment. WELL. Turns out, Dr. W is part of the same practice as Dr. S. And the check-in lady informed us, as we were checking in that morning, that a week ago, Matt's insurance company changed their policy and now the practice is in-network for him. Meaning COVERED. Interesting 'coincidence,' right?}

He really wants Matt to see Dr. W. He thinks Dr. W may be able to find some answers and help correct whatever issues are causing his problems. In fact, looking over Matt's history and labwork, Dr. S was like oh, Dr. W's done wonders for people waaaay worse off than this, so that was kinda cool to hear. And also, now that we know that this practice is covered on Matt's insurance (we're not on the same insurance, in case you didn't pick up on that), we actually COULD let him see him!!

Now the thing is-- all of this discussion and planning was obviously centering around getting both of us ready for IVF. And he barely stopped for a breath, so I kept not being able to inform him that uhhh...we're not here for IVF. At least not now. So finally I just had to break in and let him know. Which wasn't awkward at all, because I really have a way with words. Right.

Soooo...after we got that out of the way...Dr. S was actually really supportive of our goal to adopt, AND even offered to get us connected with some OB friends of his (which is great, since OBs tend to see pregnant women-- including pregnant women thinking of placing their kids for adoption)! But the best part was that Dr. S was still super excited about getting me fixed (via the surgery, of course) and Matt fixed (via Dr. W and whatever he sees fit), and said that seriously, in another 6 months, with both of our most serious issues fixed, we'd have a much, much better chance of conceiving on our own (although naturally, we could speed up the get-pregnant timeframe a LOT with IVF...of course...). So that was really exciting.

So his game plan for me was to first re-do my ovarian reserve tests (and all other relevant bloodwork), because ovarian reserve levels will determine how he approaches the surgery. He actually went into a lot of detail about this connection and it was SUPER interesting and news to me-- and I've done a lot of endo research in the past few weeks, and this was nothing I'd seen or heard before, so it blew me away pretty good. If anyone cares, I can write more about that later (let me know). It made me feel really good to know that I'm being treated by someone who knows a lot about my condition and doesn't just follow the status quo for treatment, but treats with the ultimate goal of preserving fertility. Anyway. So he wanted us to stay for an ultrasound, exam, and bloodwork, but had to rework his schedule to fit that in (versus us coming back another day for all that).

He ended up being able to squeeze us in an hour later, giving us a very short window of time to go find food. We ended up at Gruby's New York Deli, and it was pretty fantastic.

Since I'd already been weighed, I decided to go ahead and get the Reuben, because I love Reubens. We also opted to share an order of fries. GREAT DECISION, since "an order of fries" turned out to mean "an entire acre of potatoes, fried." We managed to eat about 1/5 of them.

Upon getting back to the office, Dr. S congratulated me on choosing the Reuben, saying "I like girls who aren't afraid to eat!" to Matt (it was funny, not creepy, although from the way I wrote it you might not be able to tell). He also referenced the Reuben several times throughout the ultrasound-- "see that wiggling black line (aka the WHOLE SCREEN, who can read those stupid machines??!) back there? That's the Reuben moving in your bowels!" Umm...awesome. But I've gotten ahead of myself!

While we were waiting for Dr. S and the ultrasound tech to get back to our room, I was sitting on the exam table and looking at the screen. This is what was on it. It had some of my data filled in, but not, apparently, my gender...which was "unknown." That really cracked me up.

The ultrasound went really well. The endometrioma was measuring and looking the exact same as last month, which was good (well, better than growing). That endometrioma/ovary is the same size as my whole entire uterus, by the way. Which...yeah, uteruses (uteri?) are really small when they're not filled with babies, but still...it was bizarre. And then there's my other ovary, looking super tiny, which is how it's supposed to look. Anyway. So Dr. S did the internal exam as well, and used the ultrasound to get as much more information as he could about the situation in there. Basically he said that besides the endometrioma and a smattering of other, smaller cysts/endometriomas (he'll remove or laser those as well during surgery), things (that he could see/feel, obviously) looked good. He is a very enthusiastic man, and he was rather EXCITED about the whole thing, like "This is GREAT!! I mean, it's not great that you have endo. But your ___ is really ___ (whatever, I didn't know what he was talking about, this was him describing various parts of my reproductive system and saying that they were looking/feeling the way they were supposed to) and your ____ is not ____, and so this is a GREAT situation, I LOVE doing these surgeries!!" and it made me feel like I don't love my job enough, haha.

After the ultrasound was the blood-drawing, which I did have Matt photograph. Sorry for not getting pics of the ultrasounds...I'm sure you would have just loooooved that!! Ha.

 Here I am squeezing balls (heh heh) to prep my arms for the needles. Ugh. I hate needles. But I didn't cry, so...Point, ERIKA!

And then we were done!! 

He wants to do the surgery ASAP (yaaaaaay!!!!!), meaning right after we get back from vacation. They will call me next week to finalize the date. I am a little bummed that they have to do the surgery in Atlanta (I had thought they could do it in Lawrenceville, which is a bit closer to where we live), but...we'll survive. (Side note: although the trip TO Atlanta in the morning, took only about an hour, the trip home (at 2pm, not exactly rush hour in my opinion) took 2.5 hours. Sooo...multiply that by post-surgery pain, and you'll see why I'm not thrilled about having surgery in Atlanta...)

We stopped by Starbucks for some free drinks (and a cookie, fine) to get us through the forever-long drive home and to celebrate a REALLY GREAT, best-case-scenario four hours of doctor visiting!

And then proceeded to sit in stupid Atlanta traffic for 2.5 hours and swear that we will never move to the city. 

 Take me hoooome, country roads!

So...sorry for the extremely long and detailed post, but you should know that I actually DID spare you a lot of medical details. Hard to imagine, right? But true. I just figured I owed you a solid update, since so many of you cared enough to pray, think of us, and send sweet notes, comments, texts, and emails. I really appreciated it (and so does Matt, who finds it strange and wonderful that I have so many "friends" via blogging), and I wanted you to know that your prayers were answered. Now if only the MAIN prayer (ya know...for a kid, one way or another) could be so quickly and thoroughly answered, then we'd really be in business!!

Happy Saturday! I'm getting ready for Bacon Fest...yay!

remember to breathe

In T-minus two hours, I will be sitting in my New Patient appointment (THE APPOINTMENT) at a specialists' practice in Atlanta. I'm going to go ahead and assume there will be loads of exciting things awaiting me, including but not limited to: ultrasounds, paper gowns, stirrups, and deep, probing questions about things I'd rather not discuss with strangers (or anyone). Yippee.

I'm wearing the navy-and-white spotted dress (pictured in the far-right picture on my blog header) because lots of good things have happened when I've worn that dress. And it's Friday the 13th. I need any help I can get. I'm not superstitious...I'm just a little bit stitious. That's a movie quote, but I can't remember from what. Leaning towards 10 Things I Hate About You, but not positive...anyone know?

Here's what I would consider "really good things" that could happen today at the appointment.

1) We find the place and are not late.
2) They schedule the surgery. I'm not sure if this is insanely optimistic or what, but I'd like to think we could have one appointment and then the next step be surgery. No idea if that's realistic or not.
3) If #2 happens, then my next hope is that the surgery is in the NEAR FUTURE, such as just when we get back from vacation. I'm pretty sure that is WAY optimistic, but a girl can dream.
4) They do not suggest hormone therapy, birth control pills, etc. as an alternate (initial) way of controlling the endo. Surgery or bust!
5) They do not pressure me to pursue IVF (suggestions/recommendations are fine) and respect my opinion as an educated adult. 
6) We find somewhere great to eat lunch.

Since we have pretty solid control over TWO of the above things, it seems like there is at least a 33% chance of the day going Really Well.

I was going to say "I'm not feeling nervous, really"...but then I noticed that my leg is shaking at about 1000 mph, leading me to believe I might actually be nervous. 

The title of this post is the title of a Dashboard Confessional song that has absolutely nothing to do with doctors and surgeries, but is still solid advice nonetheless. I was obsessed with Dashboard in high school/college and have no shame in admitting that. In fact, I plan on a pretty sweet Dashboard playlist for our trip to ATL this morning. Dashboard songs are angsty and a teeny bit hopeful...just like me.

Time to go. If you have tons of supportive, inspirational, and/or hilarious thoughts to uplift me with, you know what to do. :)

scenes from last night

 It's been storming almost every evening/night lately. That's both strange and nice. Good because it means I don't have to spend an hour every evening watering the plants. Bad because it means Lola has to have a coronary every night. 

Last night, pre-probable-storm, I went outside to inspect the flowers. I was pretty enthralled with this one bright and illuminated white cloud in the sky, surrounded by dark gray storm clouds.

I knocked on the window to get Matt to come outside to see. Apparently he was underwhelmed, since he stared at me for like five minutes, saying "is this seriously why you made me come outside?" with this snarky expression on his face. Yeah, whatever. Sometimes you have to stop and appreciate the clouds. Which are incidentally not easy to photograph (well).

I was super excited to see that my canna lilies have bloomed. They are waaaaaaay late this year, and I have no idea why, but I'm just glad they showed up! Apparently they're going with the better late than never mantra, embraced by most people in the world that aren't me. But when it comes to plants, I suppose I will accept lateness over never-ness.

 My favorite thing about my cannas is that they are third generation. They are from my grandmother's house in Texas. A long time ago, my mom took some and transplanted them to her yard in Augusta. And then three years ago, when we bought our house, my mom transplanted some of them from her house to mine. See? Three generations. It makes me happy to know that my mom, grandmother, and I are all seeing the same flowers bloom.

 

We picked our first lima beans!!

  ...and went ahead and cooked and ate them. Even though we'd already eaten dinner. I know. Sometimes we're crazy like that. But what else could we have done with our 11 or so beans that amounted to about 4 bites?

They were some good bites, though.

Other than farming, I spent most of the evening looking up and narrowing down bacon recipes for this weekend's Bacon Fest. Yes, you read me right. A party devoted to BACON. Last year's pretty much blew my mind, and I've been counting the minutes until this year's. And now the time is drawing nigh. Be still my heart (and stomach).

birthday girl

Guess who is turning FOUR today???!! This girl!!

Her, not me. Obviously.

Have I ever told you the story about how we got Lola? No? Well, pull up a chair and grab a beverage. This won't take long, promise.

In early 2008, Matt and I wanted to get a dog. I have had dogs my whole life, 90% of them being miniature/toy schnauzers...aka SMALL DOGS. I like small dogs. I know what to expect with small dogs. I know how much the vet bills of small dogs cost. I know how to train small dogs. I know how much small dogs eat. I wanted to get a small dog.

Matt had never owned a dog. Therefore, that made him completely qualified to determine that he only wanted a big dog, or potentially a huge dog.  Doesn't matter how much they eat. Doesn't matter how much they shed. He wanted a big dog.

So we argued discussed dog breeds for about a year. Neither of us wanted a medium dog, of course. It was all or nothing. So there could be no agreement or compromising. We were waiting for one of us to cave in.

But after enough time went by, we finally both agreed that we JUST WANTED A DOG, dangit. And so we decided that we would simply go to a shelter or Humane Society or something and pick a puppy (we agreed that we wanted a puppy) (and that we wanted to adopt a probable mutt, versus buying from a breeder or something) that we both loved and that was of indeterminate breed...the idea being that we would be in love with it no matter WHAT size it grew up to be in the future. It was a totally solid plan.

We picked Lola because she was tiny and black and furry and so ridiculously cutely adorable that we died at the thought of NOT picking her.

 She was part of a litter, and they were about 8 weeks old. They estimated their birthday to be around July 11, 2008. Someone had found the litter (and the mother dog) locked in a toolshed, and all of the dogs were apparently crawling in ants. She was missing little patches of fur and had scabs all over her tiny soft belly, even by the time we adopted her (after she'd been in a foster home for several weeks). We pledged to love her and cherish her and never, ever let ants anywhere near her again. Poor sweet little baby.

The people at the Humane Society thought she might be some kind of terrier mix, which leads me to conclude that they had never seen a picture of a terrier before.

So we didn't really know what she was, but we suspected some sort of lab mix...didn't matter anyway, though, because after about 10 minutes with her, we were completely smitten. You could have told me she was a dragon/bear mix and I wouldn't have batted an eye.

She was adorable and 100% puppy and obedient and surprisingly easy to house train. She has NEVER learned to walk like a normal (subservient) dog on a leash, though. Doesn't matter. Love her anyway. She sheds everywhere. Don't care. She weighs between 48 and 52 pounds: far larger than my "small dog" ideal, and smaller than Matt's "large/huge" dream. Turns out, 48-52 pounds is absolutely perfect for both of us. Who knew? 

She absolutely loves me. I am her favorite. When I sit on the couch, she literally sits ON my feet. When I go to the bathroom, she sits next to the toilet. She follows me around and comes to me when it's storming and she's scared. She likes Matt too, but let's face it-- she's a mama's girl. (Except when it's time for a potty walk. Then she's alllll Matt's.)

We love her so much and are so thankful we never agreed or compromised on a certain kind of dog...because then we wouldn't have our "Lou"!

If you have made it this far, I applaud you. And I suspect it's because I kept the pictures puppy-centered. Who doesn't love puppy pictures?? Grown up lab-greyhound mix (likely what Lola is, btw) pictures? Meh. Puppies? OMGIDIE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway, Happy Birthday Lola, since I know you're probably sitting at home, dragging your stupid toys all over my clean house and reading blogs as you gaze out the windows and wonder how hot it will be later and whether we might take you to the dogpark for your birthday (yes). Thanks for being the best doggie ever!