I'm Fine. Infertile and Fine.

Do you know how many times I had to confirm that I understood this surgery would leave me infertile?

About three hundred and forty seven five times. Really? I had to sign several consent forms and at least three different nurses – one, literally right before wheeling me into the operating room - asked again if I understood that the surgery would leave me unable to have children ever again. Like, never, ever again. A no-chance-in-hell-you-are-now-in-menopause-but-can-always-adopt kind of ever again.

Yes, I understand. Jesus. I was more concerned about cheating the friggin' bowel prep than losing my fertility!

This might be the grossest thing, ever.

Waiting for my surgery time. We eavesdropped on the old lady on the other side of the curtain ramble on about "the demons taking over her memory". Bless her heart but she did provide us with some good laughs.

The surgery was quick and fairly easy. All done laparoscopically without having to remove my uterus. This meant that my recovery was significantly short in comparison and that I couldn’t pull the “recovery card” to get out of putting the toddler down for bed.

One of the entry sites was my belly button. Apparently, they are using superglue to suture incisions these days. Don't be jealous of my rock hard abs.

So now, I’m totally on the mend. I’m glad to see June wrapping up as I’ve had a doctor appointment every week since mid-May! Just one more appointment to go over my estrogen levels with the oncologist and then...who knows?

Hopefully Another Blow to Cancer

So, today is the day. An oophorectomy is definitely happening. My surgeon is confident it will only be that.

However...if she can't get to the ovaries and tubes via laparoscope she will indeed have to cut me open. If this is the case, she's taking everything - a hysterectomy.

I've struggled with it a little bit. On one hand, this is the BEST decision for me in terms of staying cancer-free long term. Dr. Onc is very conservative and she wouldn't have even suggested this surgery if she didn't think it would benefit me.

On the other hand...I can't escape the idea of being compared to a spayed animal. No offense to anyone reading this who may have had one. I don't view other women as being "spayed" - just myself.

More than that, I'm sad that I won't be able to have any more children. I desperately want our daughter to have a sibling. I know there are other avenues out there to explore in terms of adding to our family, so there is always that. But I really just need to mourn the loss of my own ability first and then I'll be ready to move on.

For now, though, I'm ready for the surgery. I'm ready to finally close the chapter on hormone management!

My Ovaries are Trying to Kill Me

We finally broke it to the rest of the family this weekend that another baby will not ever come through this body again. It's because I'm having my ovaries removed at the end of May.

Having a second baby was never really in the cards post cancer. But I had always hoped, thinking that maybe it could happen. It's definitely not happening now.

My ovaries are producing high levels of estrogen. Right now I visit the doctor each month and get a shot in the belly with a drug that suppresses the ovaries from functioning. It puts them in kind of a sleep mode -- it's also considered to be menopause. The whole point is to block any estrogen in my body so that cancer doesn't have any fuel to grow.

Additionally, I take a drug every day called Arimidex. This also blocks estrogen. It's difficult to understand how it actually works, so I won't explain. But the important thing is that you must be in menopause for it to work effectively.

Right now, I'm not in menopause because the monthly suppression shot isn't enough to control my overactive ovaries. They are seriously trying to kill me. So for months now, I've been flying blind taking a medication that is basically not doing jack in protecting me from cancer.

My oncologist believes that removing the ovaries is the best plan of attack in staying cancer free. I've gotta agree, obviously.

I had to take a day or two to come to grips with what this surgery means. And it means: no more children. That's the biggie. It also brings a whole host of other things too: bone health, heart health, more memory loss, weight gain, skin changes, yada, yada, yada.

So the countdown is on. Five weeks. Stay tuned.