Thank you to those of you who have had me in your thoughts and prayers!
I met with the breast specialist/surgeon yesterday and was given good news:) She reviewed my charts and asked tons of questions and then informed me that the ultrasound and mammogram results showed a cyst... thus meaning I have a condition known as fibrocystic breast changes (formally known as fibrocystic breast disease). Apparently this is extremely common in women in their 30s and 40s, and will cause 'lumpy' breast and lots of pain and tenderness just before a menstrual cycle. She did perform another ultrasound in the office because when she was doing a hands on exam she was concerned about the mass that she was feeling, but the ultrasound showed that I evidently have really dense breast tissue. So that i can LIVE with! The surgeon scheduled me for a 3 month follow up just to keep an eye on me, and if the cyst should grow in size, then I may have to have it drained or removed. Now I feel as though a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders, and I no longer have that persistent feeling that someone is about to tell me that I have Cancer. For the time being... I get to keep my boobs! As lumpy as they may be, they are still mine:)
In other news... my desire to have another baby continues to grow and grow. D is still not ready, and physically, neither am I . I really need to focus on getting into shape. I told myself after losing Sebastion that I would not allow myself to fall into a depressive weight gaining rut, but in that I have failed. I can't really say I have gained that much weight... more so that I never really lost the baby weight from when I was pregnant with my daughter. Considering she is now 3 years old, I REALLY need to focus on getting back to my pre-mommy size, or at least within 10 pounds...not 35. So that being said... I am on a journey to lose 25 pounds in 3 months. Any helpful hints or tips to help this Momma get her figure back? I'm hoping in doing so that I may regain some much needed self confidence, and then I may be READY for TTC:) All I can do is try, right? Got nothing to lose but the pounds!
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
An Ultrasound and a Mammogram
Let me start off by saying that no matter how much I keep telling myself that everything is going to be fine, I'm am still extremely fucking scared. I can not help but wonder, what if?
That being said... this is my experience so far:
About a month ago, while laying in bed with my amazing boyfriend I noticed that my breast were a bit tender and began to feel around a bit on my right side...that is when I felt it... this lump/mass/THING that shouldn't be there. I think I held my breath for a minute and tried to wish it away, but that obviously did not work, so I grabbed D's hand and placed it on my breast and asked if he felt the same thing. D is not a firm believer in medicine, neither am I, but his immediate response was.."You better get that checked out. Normally I say OH it will be fine, just suck it up... but YOU, you need to do something about that." Ok, so I wasn't crazy, there IS really something there. Sigh.
The next morning I called my trusted OB/GYN to set up an appointment...the receptionist questioned me on the nature of my visit and I choked up. She asked again and I managed to get the words out... 'Ummm... I have found a lump in my breast.' She quickly replied... 'Which breast?' ...without hesitation, as I am sure this is not the first time she has taken a phone call of this nature. 'Right.' I responded. She then explained that Dr.S was on vacation for the next week and a half and that my appointment is scheduled for April 19th. Wow, an entire month of waiting. I contemplated going to my family physician instead because I was confident that I could be seen by him sooner than that, but I feel A LOT more comfortable with Dr S, and I feel that breast issues were more suited to be taken care of by him. I chose not to talk to any friends or even family about my situation until I knew more myself. It was a LONG month.
As I shared before, I had my appointment with Dr. S. on tuesday, at which time he did an exam and stated that he felt the mass to be a cyst. He ordered an ultrasound and referred me to a wonderful RN who takes care of all breast issues. Being an uninsured mother with a lump in the breast, I had to ask about cost. Dr. S. simply said, 'Let me see what I can do.'
Yesterday. I received a call from the wonderful RN, Becky, first thing in the morning. We talked for a few minutes, and she stated that she felt I should have a mammogram as well. So, I went in yesterday for a mammogram and an ultrasound.
Up first... mammogram. I registered with the receptionist, at which point Becky came out to meet me and present me with a stack of paper work for me to complete. As it turns out I qualified for a grant (The Coleman Grant) to cover the cost of the mammogram... and if it should be needed, the same grant will cover the cost of a biopsy. I did not have to wait very long for my name to be called, and a sweet young girl came to greet me and take me back to radiology. After changing into a hospital gown that ties in the front instead of the back, I was led into the room with the mammogram machine. First she had to ask the question... "Are you, or could you be pregnant?" I responded with 'I don't think so, but my doctor sort of put a fear in my yesterday, so I'm not sure?' She said, "I cannot take that for an answer... Yes or No?" Deep breath.... "No." I said. She had me find the lump for her so that she could make a mark telling her where it was. And then it began. Mammograms are not nearly as painful as I had built them up to be in my mind. Awkward. Yes. Painful, not really. She took images of both breast so that the doctor could compare them to each other. Top view and side view. And then we were done. I must say it is strange to have a girl, probably 10 years younger than myself, be tugging a pulling on my breast, and then flattening them between plates. Odd.
Next stop.... ultrasound. I was greeted by a VERY familiar face. Emily. Emily was the same ultrasound tech who did my 16 week ultrasound with Sebastion... the last photos we have of him alive. She also was the second person to tell me that we were going to have a boy. Add to those memories...she was also the ultrasound tech who was sent to my room after Sebastion was born to do an internal ultrasound to look for left over fragments of the placenta, which there were apparently lots of because I had to have a DnC the next day. Emily is a very sweet lady. I cannot even begin to describe how strange it felt to be back in THAT room, and NOT be looking at an image of a baby, or to have the warm gel spread on my belly. Instead, exposing my breast to be covered in goo. Watching the images on the monitor, again, heartbreaking, really. 'Yes' Emily responded. She proceeded to take several images of the entire breast, with each swoosh of the images being saved, my heart sank...and then I was finished.
Now. I wait. And again, the waiting is the hardest part. I likely will not hear from my doctor until tomorrow, as thursdays are his surgery days. I KNOW he felt confident that we are not looking at Cancer, but I still can not get the idea out of my mind until I KNOW for sure. All I can think is I do not want my little girl to grow up with out a mommy. I so desperately do not want THAT life for her... or for D for that matter. And then I also have the thought, did my son die for the same reason... was his mommy too sick to take care of him, and he was sent to heaven to be with jesus, the best care giver of all? Aye. Aye.
I have an appointment set up for tuesday with a Breast Specialist/ Surgeon. I may not know anything until then. I am not one to ask for prayers very often, but please, I need all the help I can get right now.
That being said... this is my experience so far:
About a month ago, while laying in bed with my amazing boyfriend I noticed that my breast were a bit tender and began to feel around a bit on my right side...that is when I felt it... this lump/mass/THING that shouldn't be there. I think I held my breath for a minute and tried to wish it away, but that obviously did not work, so I grabbed D's hand and placed it on my breast and asked if he felt the same thing. D is not a firm believer in medicine, neither am I, but his immediate response was.."You better get that checked out. Normally I say OH it will be fine, just suck it up... but YOU, you need to do something about that." Ok, so I wasn't crazy, there IS really something there. Sigh.
The next morning I called my trusted OB/GYN to set up an appointment...the receptionist questioned me on the nature of my visit and I choked up. She asked again and I managed to get the words out... 'Ummm... I have found a lump in my breast.' She quickly replied... 'Which breast?' ...without hesitation, as I am sure this is not the first time she has taken a phone call of this nature. 'Right.' I responded. She then explained that Dr.S was on vacation for the next week and a half and that my appointment is scheduled for April 19th. Wow, an entire month of waiting. I contemplated going to my family physician instead because I was confident that I could be seen by him sooner than that, but I feel A LOT more comfortable with Dr S, and I feel that breast issues were more suited to be taken care of by him. I chose not to talk to any friends or even family about my situation until I knew more myself. It was a LONG month.
As I shared before, I had my appointment with Dr. S. on tuesday, at which time he did an exam and stated that he felt the mass to be a cyst. He ordered an ultrasound and referred me to a wonderful RN who takes care of all breast issues. Being an uninsured mother with a lump in the breast, I had to ask about cost. Dr. S. simply said, 'Let me see what I can do.'
Yesterday. I received a call from the wonderful RN, Becky, first thing in the morning. We talked for a few minutes, and she stated that she felt I should have a mammogram as well. So, I went in yesterday for a mammogram and an ultrasound.
Up first... mammogram. I registered with the receptionist, at which point Becky came out to meet me and present me with a stack of paper work for me to complete. As it turns out I qualified for a grant (The Coleman Grant) to cover the cost of the mammogram... and if it should be needed, the same grant will cover the cost of a biopsy. I did not have to wait very long for my name to be called, and a sweet young girl came to greet me and take me back to radiology. After changing into a hospital gown that ties in the front instead of the back, I was led into the room with the mammogram machine. First she had to ask the question... "Are you, or could you be pregnant?" I responded with 'I don't think so, but my doctor sort of put a fear in my yesterday, so I'm not sure?' She said, "I cannot take that for an answer... Yes or No?" Deep breath.... "No." I said. She had me find the lump for her so that she could make a mark telling her where it was. And then it began. Mammograms are not nearly as painful as I had built them up to be in my mind. Awkward. Yes. Painful, not really. She took images of both breast so that the doctor could compare them to each other. Top view and side view. And then we were done. I must say it is strange to have a girl, probably 10 years younger than myself, be tugging a pulling on my breast, and then flattening them between plates. Odd.
Next stop.... ultrasound. I was greeted by a VERY familiar face. Emily. Emily was the same ultrasound tech who did my 16 week ultrasound with Sebastion... the last photos we have of him alive. She also was the second person to tell me that we were going to have a boy. Add to those memories...she was also the ultrasound tech who was sent to my room after Sebastion was born to do an internal ultrasound to look for left over fragments of the placenta, which there were apparently lots of because I had to have a DnC the next day. Emily is a very sweet lady. I cannot even begin to describe how strange it felt to be back in THAT room, and NOT be looking at an image of a baby, or to have the warm gel spread on my belly. Instead, exposing my breast to be covered in goo. Watching the images on the monitor, again, heartbreaking, really. 'Yes' Emily responded. She proceeded to take several images of the entire breast, with each swoosh of the images being saved, my heart sank...and then I was finished.
Now. I wait. And again, the waiting is the hardest part. I likely will not hear from my doctor until tomorrow, as thursdays are his surgery days. I KNOW he felt confident that we are not looking at Cancer, but I still can not get the idea out of my mind until I KNOW for sure. All I can think is I do not want my little girl to grow up with out a mommy. I so desperately do not want THAT life for her... or for D for that matter. And then I also have the thought, did my son die for the same reason... was his mommy too sick to take care of him, and he was sent to heaven to be with jesus, the best care giver of all? Aye. Aye.
I have an appointment set up for tuesday with a Breast Specialist/ Surgeon. I may not know anything until then. I am not one to ask for prayers very often, but please, I need all the help I can get right now.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
dun dun dunnnn....
I should have realized that today would be anything but normal. Today IS the 19th after all.
To start things off... my cat. Oh how I love my big fluffy cuddly kitty..
.
but boy oh boy, can he piss me off?! I'm not really sure that I got any sleep last night, as it seems that every time I fell back to sleep, he was either headbutting my nose... licking my cheek... biting my hand... nibbling my ears... or digging his claws into my back. Strike one.
That being said... once I finally decided to drag my ass out of bed I went about my morning routine... pee. wash hands. start coffee. shower. ONE major problem here... the coffee didn't brew. Stupid fucking coffee maker decided to just stop working. And if you know me, you know I do not function with out my coffee. Strike two.
Off to work I go. (Bonus... free coffee there, just not as good as what I make at home.)
First table I had pay out and leave... stiffed me. (For those of you who may not know... I am aslave server at a local restaurant.) Strike three.
Third table... stiffed again. Only THIS time, the customer had actually HAD money laying on the table when I dropped off their change, but when I went back to pick up said tip, the table was empty. So one of two things could have happened here... 1. Bitch decided she needed the money more than I did, even though she had no complaints about any of her food/service. or 2. Someone walked by and picked the money up on their way out the door. Either way! That is just fucking wrong! Strike four!
I know, I know. There are only 3 strikes in baseball, right? Well, technically yes. BUT if the third strike is a fowl ball.... well then you get to swing again.
Moving on. I learned a few things today. First and foremost, my grandfather is to have surgery on thursday. Heart catheterization. Somewhat a basic procedure, yes... people have them all the time, yes. But my grandfather is 85 years old, and just last week began slurring his speech. It saddens me to think that he may not be with us much longer. I love you grandpa. Please keep him in your prayers.
One year ago today, I peed in a cup to confirm what I already knew to be true. I was pregnant with my sweet Sebastion. Today , I had a doctors appointment with the same doctor, but not for the same exciting reason. Today I went into his office because about a month ago, I found a lump in my breast. The past month has been a long month. A VERY long month of waiting, wondering, worrying, and keeping myself busy busy busy so as too not have an idol mind. I only talked to D about it, he was the one that assured me that it was something I should have checked out... just in case. So, today was the day. And I still know nothing. After a hands on exam, my doctor felt hopeful that the 'mass' was only a cyst. I am to receive a call in the morning to set up an ultrasound (not a mammogram) to learn more. He stated that if it was larger than (i can not remember the size, only that I know it seems larger than that) then he would have to drain it. So... I am 90% certain that my poor breast will be poked with needles here in the next few days, and that saddens me, but not nearly as much as the alternative. Obviously he couldn't say for sure without further testing, but he was hopeful that it wasn't Cancer. That in itself, was the best thing I heard all day. For that matter... all year. So today, I also learned a few things about breast health...apparently if you find a lump, there are a couple of good 'signs'. One... its a good sign if the lump moves when you push on it. And Two... its also a good sign if it hurts. And in my case, both of those are true.
And the other thing I learned today, I shall ponder for awhile...
To start things off... my cat. Oh how I love my big fluffy cuddly kitty..
but boy oh boy, can he piss me off?! I'm not really sure that I got any sleep last night, as it seems that every time I fell back to sleep, he was either headbutting my nose... licking my cheek... biting my hand... nibbling my ears... or digging his claws into my back. Strike one.
That being said... once I finally decided to drag my ass out of bed I went about my morning routine... pee. wash hands. start coffee. shower. ONE major problem here... the coffee didn't brew. Stupid fucking coffee maker decided to just stop working. And if you know me, you know I do not function with out my coffee. Strike two.
Off to work I go. (Bonus... free coffee there, just not as good as what I make at home.)
First table I had pay out and leave... stiffed me. (For those of you who may not know... I am a
Third table... stiffed again. Only THIS time, the customer had actually HAD money laying on the table when I dropped off their change, but when I went back to pick up said tip, the table was empty. So one of two things could have happened here... 1. Bitch decided she needed the money more than I did, even though she had no complaints about any of her food/service. or 2. Someone walked by and picked the money up on their way out the door. Either way! That is just fucking wrong! Strike four!
I know, I know. There are only 3 strikes in baseball, right? Well, technically yes. BUT if the third strike is a fowl ball.... well then you get to swing again.
Moving on. I learned a few things today. First and foremost, my grandfather is to have surgery on thursday. Heart catheterization. Somewhat a basic procedure, yes... people have them all the time, yes. But my grandfather is 85 years old, and just last week began slurring his speech. It saddens me to think that he may not be with us much longer. I love you grandpa. Please keep him in your prayers.
One year ago today, I peed in a cup to confirm what I already knew to be true. I was pregnant with my sweet Sebastion. Today , I had a doctors appointment with the same doctor, but not for the same exciting reason. Today I went into his office because about a month ago, I found a lump in my breast. The past month has been a long month. A VERY long month of waiting, wondering, worrying, and keeping myself busy busy busy so as too not have an idol mind. I only talked to D about it, he was the one that assured me that it was something I should have checked out... just in case. So, today was the day. And I still know nothing. After a hands on exam, my doctor felt hopeful that the 'mass' was only a cyst. I am to receive a call in the morning to set up an ultrasound (not a mammogram) to learn more. He stated that if it was larger than (i can not remember the size, only that I know it seems larger than that) then he would have to drain it. So... I am 90% certain that my poor breast will be poked with needles here in the next few days, and that saddens me, but not nearly as much as the alternative. Obviously he couldn't say for sure without further testing, but he was hopeful that it wasn't Cancer. That in itself, was the best thing I heard all day. For that matter... all year. So today, I also learned a few things about breast health...apparently if you find a lump, there are a couple of good 'signs'. One... its a good sign if the lump moves when you push on it. And Two... its also a good sign if it hurts. And in my case, both of those are true.
And the other thing I learned today, I shall ponder for awhile...
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
8 months and church
Yesterday marked 8 months. 8 months! Time is such a tricky thing. I wonder daily what my life would be like if I were a 'normal' person again... mother of two, without all the grief and heartache. I think back to when I was pregnant with Sebastion and how often I stated that I couldn't BELIEVE I was going to have two children... perhaps I knew from the start that something was wrong, but that never made me love him any less. I miss his active little kicks in utero, so much so that 8 months later, I still feel the phantom kicks. Phantom kicks are creepy I tell you. Creepy. I have taken more pregnancy test in the past 6 months than in the rest of my life combined, mostly due to phantom kicks... hell I suppose I could have just become this incredibly gassy person overnight or something, but I really think it is more than that. I miss him deeply, and apparently my body does as well.
While my 'mother-in-love' was visiting from out of state for my daughters third birthday we attended church, twice. These two visits have been the first I have stepped into a church since my son died. I have had my trials and tribulations with trusting god, and anger issues as well. My first visit back, I cried. Both sermons were based on "ARE YOU READY?" Are you ready for the second coming of Christ? For Armageddon and for the Rapture?... the teens performed a bit of a skit, if you will, and one girl in particular was more than I could take. The scene started with a woman being mugged and shot. Boom. Gone. Followed by a man and wife sleeping in bed. The man vanishes, she is left behind. Two men walking up a hill, one vanishes, one is left behind... Then those that are 'left behind' start to panic and run around screaming looking for their lost ones.... the girl screaming for her missing baby was more than I could handle. "MY BABY!! HAS ANYONE SEEN MY BABY?!!" The panic and disbelief in her voice were overpowering, and I cried. (She should think about acting school). Then Christ walks away with all of the 'chosen' ones, baby in arms, and those left behind huddle up and cry together... end scene. Really a lot more touching than my brief description, but that was the gist of it.
The following sunday... while Pastor Tim is preaching along the same thoughts of 'are you ready?' he begins talking about different reasons why certain people may have trust, or even belief, issues with god. He is pacing back and forth, back and forth, in the front of the church spewing about many reasons like financial issues, global crisis', tsunamis, earth quakes, death of a loved one, parents... and then he stops. Looks me dead in the eye and says: "How could god take my baby?". I think my heart skipped a beat. His eyes were locked with mine for at least 5 seconds... small amount of time in retrospect, but an eternity while happening. He then kept on walking and spewing on about how it wasn't god that made these things happen, it was the devil. And that if you (I) put faith and trust in god (Christ) then, and only then will you be able to heal, with HIS help. The thing is... he doesn't know. I am not an active member of this church. I had actually only attended this church a few times previous to this month, and it had been over a year since. I was attending a different church pre-death of a child. (Haven't been back to that one either) Keep in mind, I DO live in a small town, and this church is the church that my 'father-in-love' preached at when they lived in town, but that was 10 years ago. I don't know. Creepy. Apparently god was speaking to pastor Tim at that very moment and even if he didn't think twice about his actions, it left a mark on me, and D, and the mother-in-love who both caught on immediately to what was taking place. We discussed it in great detail later that evening.
On a happier note... D and I have rekindled our love and affection for one another and it seems the honeymoon phase CAN come and go:)
While my 'mother-in-love' was visiting from out of state for my daughters third birthday we attended church, twice. These two visits have been the first I have stepped into a church since my son died. I have had my trials and tribulations with trusting god, and anger issues as well. My first visit back, I cried. Both sermons were based on "ARE YOU READY?" Are you ready for the second coming of Christ? For Armageddon and for the Rapture?... the teens performed a bit of a skit, if you will, and one girl in particular was more than I could take. The scene started with a woman being mugged and shot. Boom. Gone. Followed by a man and wife sleeping in bed. The man vanishes, she is left behind. Two men walking up a hill, one vanishes, one is left behind... Then those that are 'left behind' start to panic and run around screaming looking for their lost ones.... the girl screaming for her missing baby was more than I could handle. "MY BABY!! HAS ANYONE SEEN MY BABY?!!" The panic and disbelief in her voice were overpowering, and I cried. (She should think about acting school). Then Christ walks away with all of the 'chosen' ones, baby in arms, and those left behind huddle up and cry together... end scene. Really a lot more touching than my brief description, but that was the gist of it.
The following sunday... while Pastor Tim is preaching along the same thoughts of 'are you ready?' he begins talking about different reasons why certain people may have trust, or even belief, issues with god. He is pacing back and forth, back and forth, in the front of the church spewing about many reasons like financial issues, global crisis', tsunamis, earth quakes, death of a loved one, parents... and then he stops. Looks me dead in the eye and says: "How could god take my baby?". I think my heart skipped a beat. His eyes were locked with mine for at least 5 seconds... small amount of time in retrospect, but an eternity while happening. He then kept on walking and spewing on about how it wasn't god that made these things happen, it was the devil. And that if you (I) put faith and trust in god (Christ) then, and only then will you be able to heal, with HIS help. The thing is... he doesn't know. I am not an active member of this church. I had actually only attended this church a few times previous to this month, and it had been over a year since. I was attending a different church pre-death of a child. (Haven't been back to that one either) Keep in mind, I DO live in a small town, and this church is the church that my 'father-in-love' preached at when they lived in town, but that was 10 years ago. I don't know. Creepy. Apparently god was speaking to pastor Tim at that very moment and even if he didn't think twice about his actions, it left a mark on me, and D, and the mother-in-love who both caught on immediately to what was taking place. We discussed it in great detail later that evening.
On a happier note... D and I have rekindled our love and affection for one another and it seems the honeymoon phase CAN come and go:)
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