Monday, August 23, 2010

So, I faced it. I didn't have kids.

Ahem. Me here. The-blogger-who-does-not-blog. You may be thinking, "She probably was doing that avoidance thing." Well, that would be partly true. On the other hand, I do have some updates.

You: Did you go talk to your church about what you found on your blog?
Me: Yes, to several people. To one close friend who is in ministry, who read that blog post to the staff. Also, to the women's ministry leader, who met with me and discussed how I should keep writing, share my blog with others and turn my story into a book. Before taking the idea for starting a women's group for women who were childless not by choice further, she wanted to speak to one of the elders who is also a counselor. She did, and then he wanted to meet with me to discuss this further.

In meeting with the elder, he revealed a) that the church has a hard time creating special interest groups led by one person - that it needs to be something that will be self-sustaining regardless of the leader (which I agreed with wholeheartedly); b) that clearly - after handing me the Kleenex box a few times - I needed to seek counseling with my husband as he was part and parcel to the problem over which I was weeping; and, c) that maybe I should start by writing some articles for the church newsletter.

Hmm, call me crazy but I'm detecting a theme here. I haven't written anything yet. I'm thinking about it.

You: So, did you get the "stuff" taken out?
Me: Not exactly. I tried to. I called my Dr. Second Opinion back and said, "I'd like to schedule surgery with you." Her response was, "Yeah, well, I'm not comfortable performing this surgery on fibroids your size via laparoscopy, so I recommend you speak with a very experienced specialist in this area, Dr. Third Opinion." Well, alrighty then. I contacted Dr. Third Opinion. He (ugh) is a very well regarded fibroid and laparoscopy specialist; that is all he does. Apparently it takes months to get in to see him, and the first available appointment wasn't until December. I gave them my information and waited. The day before the appointment, the office called and said that I should prepare to pay the first time patient consultation fee of $700. "Do what?" I said. "But I thought you took my health plan?" I cried. "Do what?" the nurse said. "Sweetie, we don't take your insurance. In fact, we don't take most people's insurance. We don't have to - there are lots of women in Atlanta who pay cold hard cash for this doctor. He is just that good."

I of course asked (or thought) all the other questions: Then why did you take all my coverage information months ago and not say anything? Why didn't you tell me your insurance policy that day on the phone? Why did you not give me any inkling that this guy wasn't going to be Dr. Third Opinion before I went through a few months thinking soon I would get my "stuff" taken out and be done with this dilemma? And what do I do now?

Sniff.

And then came the holidays.

And now it is August the following year.

You: So you did nothing?
Me: Yes, sometimes "doing nothing" is the best option, even for professional avoiders. You see, I really wasn't suffering from any of the classic problems some women have with fibroids (severe cramping and bleeding), other than I have a "bump" equivalent to the size of a 14 week fetus (the way GYN's measure this stuff, seriously). I really felt fine and I thought that perhaps I was put through those experiences for a purpose: to make me deal with the fact that I didn't have kids and wasn't going to have kids. And that I should be OK with that, because He wanted me to be. My lesson was to take life as it comes, rejoice, and be glad in it.

And, I really do feel sort of liberated in a way. I didn't have to go through what in my mind is a very serious and life-threatening surgery (OK it is routine for most docs but not for ME). I went through a year of mentally working through and turning over the situation. I spoke to several people at my church and to a few close friends about what I learned on this blog and, in the process, spoke about my problems. I did write more and I enjoyed it.

So, I faced it. I didn't have kids. Now what?