Monday, January 31, 2011

Fertility Re-visited

Yesterday I went to the baby shower of a good friend of mine.  As I said yesterday, it was great to see everyone but to be honest, it was also sad at the same time.  All around me, I was surrounded by happy fat babies.  There I was, just as bald as those fat babies and desperately wanting a happy fat baby of my own.  I'm years away from making a dream like that a reality. 

I am frightened out of my mind that my body is going to kicked into early menopause after I'm done with chemotherapy.  I've been getting a shot every month to put my ovaries into a pre-pubescent stage.  The docs said shutting my ovaries down during treatment was my best bet to preserve fertility.  There's no way of knowing if this will work until a year or maybe longer after my treatment is over.   Oh crystal ball, tell me what's going to happen.  I need to know.

Sometimes I pray to God to both let me live but also to let me live the life I want.  I want to be a mother.  I think I would be a good mom, and most of what I've been doing the last two years is to prepare for that.  I worked so many hours of overtime to save up money to buy a house with my sweetie.  I look at this house and I wonder if it's going to be a home to my children.  I get so upset and scared that this isn't going to happen for me, and that my body will never know what it's like to carry a baby to full-term. 

I hate that I'm the sick one.  I fucking hate that I finally got to a good point in my life and I am diagnosed with the disease that took my mother from me.  I hate that I see someone's pregnancy and it reminds me of what I may never have.  I am happy for my friends, I am.  While being happy for them, I'm very sad for me.  Breast cancer has maimed my one boob, and if takes away my ability to have a baby, I really don't know how I'm going to handle that.  I've only been pregnant once but that ended in miscarriage.  I pray to God that's not the only pregnancy I experience in my life.

After a miscarriage and now breast cancer at the age of 30, I'm worried that my body is just going to know trauma and illness.  How fucking tragic would it be if breast cancer both took my mom and my chance at being a mom?  Man, I sound like a Lifetime movie.... this is ridiculous. 

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