This post is not a happy post, so read at your own risk. I've gone back and forth multiple times on writing this, but perhaps something I have to say will help someone. If not, I guess it's for my own catharsis. But before I get to the gritty details, I want to share an experience that happened a little over a month ago.
We had fast Sunday on March 13 due to Stake Conference on March 6. As the Sacrament part of the meeting occurred, I prayed to God explaining how utterly broken and despicable I felt. I felt like such a failure--in life, in my job, in my calling, and most importantly, to my husband. As I expressed these feelings, I was overwhelmed with the strong feeling that I was not broken; I was loved. And no matter what I was going through, my Savior Jesus Christ was there to lift my burden and carry me through. I may not be perfect physically right now, but that is the purpose of the Atonement: to compensate for my infirmities. I had never had such a stronger appreciation for the Atonement than I did in that moment, and I began to be incredibly grateful that this trial I'm experiencing is helping me to become closer to my Savior--something I've been praying for for many months now.
Now to preface this experience. (Note: some of this may be too much information for you. If that's the case, I apologize. It's not embarrassing for me, just part of what's happened). Jonathon and I went off birth control just before Thanksgiving because we decided it was probably getting time to have a family. By February, I still hadn't had a period, and three months is the recommended time to wait before going to see a doctor. I knew I wasn't pregnant, so March 1 I went to the doctor to see what could be done. I had blood drawn and tests done to see if they could figure out the problem.
The results came back and my hormones were all out of whack. Essentially, my hormones were not where they should have been that would have allowed me to get pregnant. Around this time, I also noticed a decrease in energy and an increase in depressive and anxious episodes. I was (and still am) very emotional and moody and had/have a very hard time getting things done.
The doctor recommended I get an MRI to see if they could find anything in my pituitary gland. So, a few days later I got an MRI. To put things in the timeline, I found out about the hormone levels and the need to get an MRI before that fast Sunday (March 10 to be exact), but I didn't get the MRI until the following Wednesday (March 16).
I waited another week and half before I got the results back. On March 25, I learned they discovered a benign tumor in my pituitary gland that's causing an increase in production of the hormone prolactin. Thankfully, the tumor is benign, but I can't begin to express the emotions I experienced over the next few days. Will I need surgery? What if when they take it out, they discover it's malignant instead of benign? How bad will the surgery be? What if I don't respond well to the anesthesia (my mom almost didn't wake up the last time she was on anesthesia)? What if I have to be alone during recovery (Jonathon's going to Texas the third week of May)? The doubts, anxiety, and fears went on and on.
While I knew everything would turn out, more than anything else I was shell-shocked. How could a 26 year girl have a tumor? I was baffled.
So I went to an endocrine specialist on March 31 who told me this was no big deal; this tumor was very common and they had medication that would shrink and eventually get rid of the tumor.
There was just one catch.
I couldn't get pregnant while on the medication, and they recommended I be on it for 2 years to give the tumor enough time to disappear. TWO YEARS. Two years doesn't seem like that long, but when your husband is finally ready to start having kids and your own biological clock is ticking, it feels like an eternity. I know I'm being a bit dramatic, but that was literally a hard pill to swallow.
Everyone told me how lucky I am. Lucky I don't need surgery. Lucky I can spend the next two years playing with my husband. Lucky I can make sure I'm ready to start having kids.
Don't get me wrong, I do feel lucky that it's not worse and that I don't need surgery. But it still hurts to put my family on hold.
Perhaps the hardest thing as this point though is how I feel physically as a result of my hormone levels being off. Like I mentioned earlier, I feel so exhausted. By the time I get home from work every day, I'm so tired that I can't even make dinner. We end up eating out 90% of the time cause Jonathon doesn't have time to cook.
I vary between feeling so sad for no particular reason whatsoever to feeling so anxious I can't accomplish anything. Right now, I'm writing this blog instead of doing the copious amounts of grading that needs to be finished within the next 3 days.
I struggle going to church; not because I don't love going, learning, and feeling renewed. Rather, I hate getting up, getting ready, sitting through 3 hours pretending to everyone that everything's ok when all I really want is to go home and sleep. I struggle doing my visiting teaching because I get so anxious with social situations and committing to anything when I don't know how I'm going to be feeling when that time comes around.
I have many headaches and migraines that make getting things done that much harder, and I lack any sort of motivation and drive I once had. I even have been super spacey as of late and forget what I'm saying mid-sentence. It's the strangest thing, and particularly embarrassing when I'm teaching and forget the point I'm trying to make.
Now, I don't write any of this to get pity. I HATE pity, and in spite of these challenges, I feel very blessed. I feel blessed for my incredible husband who's been a rock through it all. Who takes care of me and accomplishes some of the tasks I can't complete any more (like making dinner when he can and cleaning). I'm grateful for the love and support of my family, especially my dear parents. In spite of crying uncontrollably over small inconsequential things, they still love me.
And I'm especially grateful for Jesus Christ and his Atonement. Because of Him, I can and will get through this hard time. He and his angels are there to buoy me up when times get rough. He knows my struggles, He knows my pains, and He's there to ease my burdens. There are many tender mercies Jonathon and I have received through this experience, and for that I am grateful.
Like I said, I don't want pity. I simply hope that my story can help someone, somehow. If anything else, I know what it feels like to feel utterly helpless, broken, and alone. However, by turning to Christ, we will never truly be alone. No matter how much we feel like no one knows what we're going through, He does. He cares. And He's there to make everything better--or at least help us get through it.
