Monday, March 23, 2015

When all {Hope} is lost

For the past decade I have had one word that I return to; time and time again. I have it painted and hanging in my office space. I even considered getting it tattooed on my body (except for this irrational fear of needles!) 

When we were trying for a baby, I clung to this word hoping against hope that it would happen. 
When we finally successfully fell pregnant I hoped that the pregnancy would hold. 
I hoped for a safe birth. 

Then I started hoping for another baby. 
Year after year. When it didn't happen, I still grasped this word. 

In the lead up to operation number 5, I hoped it would be okay. I hoped the lump they removed was benign. I hoped my husband would see things MY way for a change and most of all I hoped that we would eventually have another child. 

Fast forward nearly four years later and those hopes and dreams of mine have faded but still this word that has been such a huge part of my life; surfaces to my mind. 

I started thinking over the weekend that with my next operation there will be no more babies. It will be the start of a new life for me and yet I am living in the past holding onto a word that no longer holds meaning for me. Then something happened... 

Placing something into the display cabinet and next thing I know my sweet Angel of Hope suddenly jumps out and lands onto the tiles. As her head rolled across the floor, my heart plummeted and I sunk to the ground as tears threatened to well. It wasn't about the cost, or the fact she was a gift from my BFF. To me it was a sign that all hope was lost. I am essentially handing it back. 

Thankfully my hubby is a little bit handy and he came to the rescue with a spot of superglue and much cussing. 

My little angel stands tall once more - her head a little wonky - but she continues to shine hope from her small lantern. 

Today I realised that I too will go on. I face this next chapter in life with the gusto I have always held toward my infertility battles. I will hope that I breeze through this operation. I will hope for a better, pain free life afterward and I most of all I will hope that my new path brings me opportunities never before dreamed of.  

Saturday, March 21, 2015


In recent weeks my life feels like one big waiting room. I am madly preparing for surgery number 6 and that means there has been a lot of commuting between home and appointments in the city. 

I have been trying to space them out to just one per week and all appointments have been scheduled between School Hours. With a minimum of an hours drive each way, I have pretty much been spending my days driving, waiting, driving and squeezing in errands on the drive there or back. 

As much as attending Doctors appointments have been sending my anxiety sky rocketing, I am thankful that his rooms are conveniently located one block from these gorgeous gardens and water features. When I time it right, I can get a park grab a coffee and sit with my journal for some much needed words before my mind is caught up in all the medical jargon.   

There has also been waiting rooms that match the lining of my new hand bag that is so big it holds journals, pens and reading books for all those moments of waiting...

The most boring of all was waiting for pathology. Luckily I only had to wait two minutes staring at this boring carpet. I timed this appointment well though - only having to fight through a room full of elderly patients AFTER I was finished. Anyone who knows me and is aware of my irrational fear of needles would know this is a blessing in disguise! 

This week brings more appointments, more driving and more waiting. Much as I love shaking up my routine by trips into the city - just quietly, I am sort of looking forward to enforced bed rest and no driving post-op. 

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Writing {Endo Awareness Month}

What do you do to manage the mental anguish that comes with chronic illnesses? 

Personally I turn to writing. I write in my personal journal and find it extremely handy when it comes to repeating history. 

Except the last time I was shunted from Doctor office to Hospital back to Doctors Office to hospital once more - I barely wrote. A whopping 12 personal entries in my journal all of which were short and not so sweet. And lacked information that I dearly wish I had of recorded for prosperity.  

This time I have made a point of ensuring I write daily and armed with my Midori traveler's notebook and pen, not a day goes by it isn't by my side.

I've written on the beach last Saturday... 

Beach writing again on Sunday...

By a tranquil park and water feature in the city on Monday...

With the fresh air and the hot sun upon me, I wrote like a crazy woman. I took all of my thoughts, my fears, my trepidations and placed them for safekeeping between the pages of my journal. My writing like my emotions has been raw and honest. I have chosen not to flick back and re-read just yet, instead each day I add a new colour base and I write and write and write.     

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

{Rushed} March Endo Awareness


These past few years I have borrowed time. I always knew, even way back as a teen, that I would be where I stand today. 

Time is a funny thing. 

There are moments when it stands still. Feet burning beneath you, the slow burn acting as a grounding, living, breathing thing. 

Then spaces where everything feels rushed. When your feet move so fast they brush the surface of the earth as a butterflies wings flutter.  

Today I am at a cross road. Standing still. Yet rushed. I have decisions to make, figures to consider and my own mental space closing in. 

If I don't make these decisions today - I live in fear that time will drag me along in its wake and I will miss my chance. 

Yet inside I wonder if this is so dreadful. What if my choice is the wrong one. What if I rush this and develop regrets. What if it is the right decision though? 

I mentioned last night that this disease has given me one option but I lied. I have two options.

Continue trudging along the old worn pathway, up and down as I have walked the past decade. A path that will eventually loop back and become the new road. 

Or take a leap of faith and skip down the newly paved road; seeing the wonder of new places and new beginnings. 

Fear is filtering my senses as I second guess myself. 

Why can't time pause momentarily, at least long enough to make my decision. Or at least until tomorrow when I am able to get a decent sleep beneath my belt.     

Monday, March 2, 2015

{Endo Awareness Month}

March is here and that means - Endo Awareness month. 

I considered not saying anything. Pretending I did not see the sudden flow of Yellow raining down my Facebook page from various Endo Organisations / pages I follow. I so dearly want to stick my head in that nice expanse of Yellow Sand I have created these past four years and scream SCREW YOU ENDO!  

Yet I cannot. The storyteller within urges me to speak up. So here I am, speaking softly today for tomorrow I may grow cold feet and retreat to my sand dune. 

Today was March 2nd in Australia and it seems rather fitting that it was today - the beginning of Endo awareness month - that I made the journey into the city to see my specialist. 

Three years says he. Nope nearly four I reply as I sat there waiting for my pounding heart to subside a teeny bit. My breath; caught in my lungs balled there as I imagined all the options I may be offered - options I am NOT interested in pursuing. My head battled the anguish within and my eyes blinking back tears as the specialist sat back but did not offer me options. 

I was given option. Singular. 

One option. 

For 12 years I have actively battled this disease. With sword and knife (okay so sword is a bit far fetched) 20 years I have suffered (though the BCP did manage to control it to an extent throughout my early 20's) and now... well now I have a mere month to come to terms with my new path. 

A path to freedom - freedom from the chains of pain that weigh me down. 

A path to new beginnings and new life. 

A path to discovery.    

Tonight I am raw. Processing the information from today has been almost too much and I nearly fell asleep on the couch at seven. A flood of tears is building within as I realise the next month is going to be one of the hardest I have faced yet as I deal with resulting emotions.

Note: Though March is Endo Awareness month - personally I haven't quite decided how much of my new path I feel *comfortable* sharing - however I still think it needs to be discussed & as always this little space allows my words to tumble across the page & provides me with a history that is easier than trawling through my personal handwritten journals.