Post-Surgery Unload

*Warning:  This is personal and detailed, but I needed to unload. For those who care, I wanted you to understand better.

I broke down crying at work this morning while talking to Suzi. It's a sign to me that I still have a lot of emotions and things to work through regarding everything that has happened to. There are times when I know I have these things I need to deal with, but for some reason I just can't think of what they are. It's like parts of my mind are blocked off sometimes and then at others the flood gates are open. Maybe it's a defense thing because I can't handle it all at once. So, I'm going to use this entry to work things out for me. I'm sorry if it seems negative to those who might read it. My life and those in it aren't terrible nor am I always negative. Remember, I'm just unloading and thanks for being understanding.

So to put things in perspective, a recap of what's been going on. Spencer has been in and out of jobs and despite it I still love him like crazy! I have felt strongly about being home with my kids. We have also wanted to have another baby. (I know, considering everything, that sounds crazy.) He got into a job at ACS that he could see himself making a career from and was about to get insurance benefits. So we started talking seriously about having another baby and we were not very careful. I guess that we didn't want to acknowledge the fact that he could loss this job too. We were done with that. Naturally, I thought that I might get pregnant and I was excited at the prospect of things falling into place. I was excited about having my first baby while not working. But, I also didn't think we had be so careless that I really would get pregnant.

Then one night, three weeks into his job at ACS and while Spencer was suppose to be at work, I heard the garage open. Spencer had been let go for not passing the tests at work. I was devastated and worried that there was a possibility that I might be pregnant. I knew that we wouldn't have insurance coverage and we needed money. In a panic, I asked my job if they would hire me back as an employee so I could get insurance. They agreed. It was an agreement that I knew ment I had to stick around. I figured that with Spencer in and out of jobs it would be better for me to keep a stable job anyway.

So, I went back to work and Spencer went back to the job hunt. That was devastating, but I didn't have much time to think about it. I just knew that our family needed help and I could fill the need. A week later, my period started and I assumed I wasn't pregnant. It was probably for the best anyway, considering our situation. Still, I was a little sad about it. The thoughts and doubts about even having more kids started again for both me and Spencer. They still continue for me.

Ten days later I started spotting. Every day the blood would increase a little. Shortly after that the pain started. Small and short at first and then growing in intensity. I had two nights of extreme, labor like pains. After the first night, I called my doctor's office and set up an appointment to get things checked out. I also talked to my mom. She thought it was stress. Naturally, with everything going on I didn't doubt that I could have stress related issues with my body. So, I chocked it up to stress, did my best to manage the pain and blood loss and moved on. That Friday I went to my sister Charity's graduation. In the middle of it I started feeling really sick and bled a ton. That night I laid in bed, shaking and with a fever and intense pain. I managed the pain until Sunday afternoon I couldn't handle it anymore and I was scared beyond control. I called my parents for help.

My parents came over and convinced me to go to InstaCare, despite not having insurance. My insurance at work was not due to start for a couple more weeks. (Ah! perfect timing!) There they sent me to the E.R. Again despite having insurance we went. I was so worried about being able to pay for everything.

The E.R. experience is emotionally hard for me to recount, so I will do what I can. Looking back, I now know that by the point I was checking in at the E.R. my body was in full shock. I was shaking, cold and sick to my stomach with pain. I waited in the waiting area for around an hour and a half wishing for an end to all the pain. Sometime in the middle they took me in to take my vitals. The nurse was afraid I was going to hyperventilate and cautioned me to control my breathing, to slow it down. I tried, but I was more worried about throwing up.

At the time, they took my pulse, but didn't realize that my body was in distress. My doctor told me the day after the surgery that they had monitored my heart enough to know that they were wrong. My heart is really healthy and generally has a slower beat than a normal person. My doctor asked if I exercise. I told her that I had until the bleeding started. So with a healthy heart, when they took my heart rate it seemed normal, but the rate was actually high for me.

When they finally got me in, they had moved a patient in the E.R. with a broken arm or something out into the hall so I could have a bed. They had me change and the doctor came in. The instant he walked into the room I could tell he was concerned. He said something about my color or lack of color. He ordered an ultrasound, but was already assuming that I had an ectopic pregnany. While I was in for the ultrasound he called in an OBGYN and ordered some blood for me. (They didn't end up using any blood and I am still feeling the effects of it.)

They did an ultrasound. It was extremely painful. I could hear the technician gasp at certain points. I knew that he wasn't a doctor and he wasn't professional allowed to say what he knew he saw, but he was concerned about whatever he saw. He did tell us that I was pregnant. (This was after I had been asked 3 or 4 times if I had taken a pregnancy test and in confusion replying that I didn't because I had my period.) After the ultrasound the E.R. doctor confimred that it was ectopic and I would need emergency surgery. He said that he wasn't going to sugar coat it and that it was life-threatening. I was terrified and started to cry.

Truefully, looking back at it now, he wasn't very sensitive and caused me a lot of fear. I think he wanted to impress on me how much risk I had put myself in by waiting so long. What that doctor doesn't know and what many people don't understand is that I had no idea how much danger I was in. Since I started having periods, there have been many that have been extremely painful and made me feel sick. I've learned to manage pain. So, hearing that I had come so close to death has left emotional scars for me that I'm having a difficult time healing. I don't know when enough is enough to justify calling a docor, let alone going in to the hospital. I'm scared silly now. Ever little discomfort has me wondering. I'm sure those around me, especially poor Spencer, are going crazy with me.

The OBGYN came in, Dr. Archer. She was more sensitive. She wanted to get me home to my other two kids. She was concerned that I was worried about the pregnancy. I wasn't. I didn't even know I was pregnant, how could I be worried about it? I wanted to get home to Aine and Tanner. I wanted all the pain to be gone. She wanted to get me into surgery fast. So, they rushed me through the paperwork and describing what was going to happen. Meanwhile, Spencer was trying to understand and update family. It felt like a world wind and I couldn't get my head around it. Right before they wheeled me into the operating room someone tried to ask me to tell her what they were going to do. I couldn't spit it out. I didn't have time to fully grasp it. Don't get me wrong, I understood what was going to happen and why. I just couldn't quite repeat it yet.

They wheeled me out for a 3 hour emergency surgery, my first surgery ever. As they rolled me into the surgical room I was terrified and felt so alone. Spencer was running home to get things for the kids. He was so worried about them and how they were going to do at my parents. He didn't even come back to the hospital until he felt it was hopeless to get them to sleep. Luckly he made it back before I woke up.

As they were moving me into the operating room I couldn't help but wonder if I would ever come out of it. I wondered if I would go in and never wake up again. And there I was facing that possibility with no one around that I knew and loved. Spencer was on his way out of the hospital! It was so terrifying.

I remember getting onto the table and then waking up from blackness in another room on another bed. I was so tired, I didn't want them to wake me up. I wanted to stay asleep. My throught hurt so bad, I didn't want to talk. Part of me wanted to know what happened. But the majority of me was so tired and hurting that I didn't want to know. As I opened my eyes I could see Spencer off in a hallway. He was blurry. (I didn't have my glasses or contacts) They asked him in and asked him to help move me to my room. He didn't touch me or talk to me.
I couldn't keep anything down the next day. I found out that my intestines had shut down and other internal organs had been irritated by 2 days of internal bleeding. I had been 7-8 weeks pregnant. (My previous period coming during the pregnancy). The doctor removed the ruptured tube and cleared up cysts in the other tube. She warned that I was more at risk of a future ectopic pregnancy. At the time I thought that we would work that out and I would have more kids. Now, because of the fear I don't care if I can't be pregnant. I'm not sure if I want to go through another pregnancy now. I had many visitors that helped pass the time in the hospital. Eric and Abree were especially helpful in distracting me while I tried to get some food down Monday night. They stayed pretty late, just talking to me and I am so grateful.

In the hospital the recovery was very painful. They kept giving me introveinus morphine because my stomach couldn't handle the pain pills. I spent the first day in bed and had a fever, probably from liquid in my lungs. I worked on breathing it out the next day, getting out of bed and keeping solid food down. It was hard, but I wanted to feel better and I wanted to go home.

We had a case worker come in and start the application for Medicaid to cover the medical cost. We weren't sure how we were going to pay for everything. All I knew was that it was my life and what ever I had to pay and however I had to do it, we would figure it out. My life was worth it. During my recovery at home I made the phone calls, filled out the paperwork and did everything I could to get covered by Medicaid. Two weeks later I got approved and it was like a huge burden has been mercifully removed from my shoulders.

I went home from the hospital the Tuesday after and spent a week on pain killers. They made me lucid and tired. I could literally feel my mind numbing. I distracted myself with movies and spent little time with my family. After that week I then delt with the pain to get off the drugs so I could think clearly and spend time with my family. I missed them so much!
That week Spencer also started his new job at the Wal-Mart DC in Grantsville. He was so excited. We decided to put Aine and Tanner in daycare so I could recover while Spencer was at work. We figured that I would eventually be working full time again and that they would have to go to daycare then anyway. So, we started it during that week to help me recover. It was so hard. Aine hated it! Since then she has gotten so much better, but I still hate it more and more every day! I started working from home around 10 hours a week for two weeks. I also started getting slowly involved in Primary again. Anything I could do to distract myself from dealing with the pain and emotions that were buried inside of me. I figured serving others was the best remody.

I had a follow-up visit with Dr. Archer 2 1/2 weeks after the surgery. The visit to the office was tramatic. The office assistant was insistant on getting payment for the surgery bill before I could go in for my follow-up. We had just been approved for the Medicaid that day, but we hadn't received our number yet. I didn't know what to do and I was ashamed that I didn't have insurance to cover the bills. I felt so small. She eventually gave up and let me go back but by that point I was already on the verge of tears. The doctor seemed surprised that I was still feeling weak and dizzy so she wanted to get a blood count from me. My blood wasn't coming back as quickly as she had hoped. But she assured me that I am young and strong and that I would get through this. She also talked to me about how I was doing emotionally and insisted that I work through and deal with the emotions. She cautioned me against depression and not dealing with the feeling of the loss of the baby. I didn't feel a loss for the baby. She was very kind but I knew that she didn't understand what I was really dealing with.

A nurse took my blood and the instant she poked me I felt so much anxiety. I cried again. The nurse couldn't understand. She asked if I was always sensitive when I got blood drawn. I told her no. I felt like I could never deal with any type of pain ever again. That night I asked Spencer to take us to Applebee's where I could eat a huge steak. Call it emotional eating if you want but it had good side effects. It gave me strength.

During my third week after surgery, I went back to work and back to church. It was hard emotionally and physically. I didn't want to talk about what had happened. I had people everywhere who were concerned for me. At church the bishop and one of his councilors, Bro. Olsen (who is also my contact for the Primary) gave a talk on an article in the Ensign by Elder Bednar. It was about the Atonement and how it not only saves us from sins, but also strengthens us. This was so amazingly helpful. I still am drawing strength from it.

At work I also had people who were concerned for me and others who needed me to fill out more paperwork. I didn't want to talk to them. Some how, I was able to get in over 30 hours of work in last week. I felt pretty exhausted after every day. Some days I would come home and take a 2 hour nap. But it felt good to get back into a routine and work. This was last week.

Friday, I went grocery shopping on my own for the first time after work. I knew I was pushing it and figured I would go home and rest it off. While at the grocery store, I got a call from Charity. She reported that Grandma Durfee was in the hospital and that she wasn't doing very well. She didn't come out and say it, but we both felt like Grandma was going to die. I drove home, trying the best I could not to cry. I called Eric and Isaac and told them the news. I waited for Spencer to get home and told him the news. He took me to the hospital and entertained the kids at the park while I was there.

Going to the hospital brought on so much anxiety. Just being there was very difficult. When I finally got to see Grandma, she looked like death to me. I walked into her room and immediately wanted to run away from that place as fast as I could. But I forced myself to stay. During that same time I started my period. I hardly thought of it, I was so consumed with Grandma and her condition.

Saturday was Spencer's birthday. I feel awful about it, but I was so worn out that I spent the morning and afternoon in bed while he cleaned the house. I was suppose to make him a cake and never felt up to it. I was so frustrated with myself and my limitations. I still am! I so badly want life to be normal. I want all the worry from my health and Spencer's unemployment to go away!

We went up to see Grandma and she looked better. We then went to dinner with Spencer's parents and brother Nate. I felt better. After, we went back up to the hospital to give Grandma flowers. She looked a little better than before. On our way home we picked up a birthday cake for Spencer at Coldstone and ate it before bed.

That night, in the middle of the night, I woke up with terrible pain. My period was in full force and it was my first since the surgery. It was so painful. I went back onto the pain relievers. Sunday morning Spencer and I forced myself to stay home from church, despite it being mother's day and the role I needed to play in primary. I was so frustrated and mad about it but couldn't manage to do much. I ended up with a migraine the next day after I got off of the pain killers again. I did feel strong enough after church to go to my mom's and to Spencer's mom's. Although I mostly lounged at their homes while everyone else visited.

I decided to call into work Monday. This was good, since I had a migraine. I tried to put in the hours I could at home and then went in again on Tuesday, yesterday. So that leads us to today, where I broke down crying.

So, now I am down to the heart of it. What am I so emotional about? I'm stressed about everything that has happened. I'm angry that Spencer jumped around so many jobs. Not angry at him. I love him and I know he was doing everything he could to try and support our family. I know that he has been under a huge amount of pressure. I am so happy that he is now feeling happy and successful with Wal-Mart. I'm just mad about how it all worked out. I'm stressed about all the change and feeling unstable. I'm stressed about not having insurance, especially when I really needed it.

The timing in everything was so bad! I know that the pregnancy wouldn't have happened if we would have been more careful. I wanted a baby. I also felt pressure, my own creation. I want more kids and I want them while I'm still younger. I wanted a baby so badly that I hoped that Heavenly Father would help Spencer keep a job and help things to work out. I'm sure that He will still help things to work out, but they are bumpy right now. It upsets me that I have to wait even longer to have another baby. I know I'm contradicting myself, since I said I'm not sure if I want another baby. I want another baby. I want the experience of being a mother again and holding that sweet child from heaven. I'm scared like crazy of going through the pain. I know it is foolish, but I wonder if all this is punishment for not waiting to have a baby for a better time. I just feel like there is never a good time to have a baby. There is always something that makes it a bad idea.

I feel like I've been forced back into work again when I don't want to work. I've been forced to put my kids in daycare, when I don't want them there. I know, I know, force isn't the right word. No one can force me to do anything I don't want to. I made the choice because I don't like the alternatives, okay. Still, I am sitting at home, not working while my kids are in daycare because they can't take them part-time and I'm suppose to be recovering and taking things slow. I hate having them in daycare and I feel foolish that they are there when I'm at home. I feel like others are judging me and thinking that I don't want to be a mother or have my kids around. When that's exactly the opposite of how I really feel. I miss them so terribly! I hate this so much! When they get home I just want to hold them and stare at their beautiful faces. I want to spend every minute I have with them just watching them and talking to them. I want to soak it all in so that it is a part of me again.

Unfortantly, what really happens is also the opposite. I'm usually trying to get my hours in for work when they are home. I admit, that is partially my fault. I have been spending a lot of my afternoons at Charity's house. I feel too tired to drive all the way home and depressed about going home to an empty house, so I go to Charity's instead. I should work at Charity's but I get distracted. We talk. A lot of times it's about how I'm feeling emotionally, so it has been good in that way. But I'm mad at myself when I go home and have to work while Aine, Tanner and Spencer are home. There's a lot of anger at myself going on.

I'm also mad at myself because Spencer is working non-stop when he gets home to take care of us and trying to keep the house clean. He is tired. He has been acting as the one man show around here since I started feeling the pains over a month ago. Naturally, it's wearing him out. He has been so wonderful and I want to help him so badly.

So, that brings up another reason why I am so emotional. With going back to work and being Primary President I had to give up things that I really enjoyed doing. This is what is really hard for me. One was piano lessons for sisters in the ward. The other was Aine's pre-school. Lastly I've had to cut back on how much house work and cooking I do. That was just with going back to work. Now, throw in recovering from surgery and I am lucky to be able to do anything at all. This is where I finally start to ask Why? After everything, I have been faithful. I have trusted in Heavenly Father. Facing death, I have trusted in Heavenly Father and His care. And now, I'm on my 5th or 6th week of cutting back and I am asking Why? Why me? Why now? Why this? Why can't I do the things I like to do? Why can't I serve my family and ward? How stupid is that?

The last and big thing I am dealing with is death. My near death experience and the possibility of my grandma dying. I have never liked the thought of death. It has always scared me. Growing up I was constantly terrified of dying. I finally received comfort and peace about it when I received my patriarchal blessing. In my blessing it states that death for me will be like a twinkling of an eye. For many LDS people this exact phrase is familiar, relating to the second coming. It is a phrase often used in talking about the transition from life to resurrection during the second coming. It is a phrase used in describing how it will be for those who are living during the second coming. Yes, this phrase has those connotations for me and it is exciting to consider that I may be living during Christ's second coming. But also, in my fear of death it brought comfort. Comfort that death would not be long and drawn out; it would not be painful. It would be quick and comforting. One second I would be on this earth and then the next standing before my Heavenly Father and Savior. Since then I have taken comfort in that and I haven't thought much about or feared my death.

My experience going to the E.R. brought all my childhood fears crashing back down on me. I look at a hospital and associate with it intense pain and fear of the unknown. When I went under for my surgery everything went dark, it became nothing. Time and space ceased to exist for me until I woke again. That time in surgery doesn't exist for me. I know this is a mercy, in consideration of feeling the pain of surgery. But there is a fear, hiding deep inside, under many layers of unshakeable faith, that death will be like this. Life as I know it will just cease to exist and along with it, so will I. If that were true I would never be with my kids and husband again. I would never see any of my family again that I love so much.

That is the sum of the things that I am facing and dealing with right now. There should be little surprise that sometimes I just shut down or that my mind blocks out what it can't handle and I don't want to do things that need to be done. (Like get a stupid doctor's note or deal with stresses at work or in primary.)