The (Relatively Important) Stuff I Don't Think About: Part 2

Full Disclosure:  I'm half Greek and half Italian, therefore I am hairier than many other women.

When I was 15, my mom thought it might be a good idea to have me get laser hair removal on my face.  We went in for the evaluation, and the dermatologist said that I should get my hormone levels checked first, just in case there was an underlying issue.  I also had really bad acne at the time, so she thought maybe things were a bit wacky.

I met with a pediatric endocrinologist and had a ton of blood work done.  Based on all that blood work, the endocrinologist diagnosed me with Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia, an adrenal failure that is genetic (no one in my family has ever had it).  It is supposed be present from birth, although the type she diagnosed me with doesn't become apparent until puberty.  It is also 100% NOT curable.  Remember that part, it's important.

The only treatment for CAH is steroid medication, taken daily.  The biggest issue with CAH is that because the adrenal glands are malfunctioning, if a trauma were to occur, a person with CAH would go into shock (I had never had an issue with going into shock).

The steroids did nothing for my acne, or body hair.  In fact, the only thing they did was make me tired.  I took the steroids faithfully for years, assuming my doctors knew what they were doing.  They took blood tests every few months.  They were supposed to use those tests, and my reporting of symptoms to monitor my steroid dosage.

When I started college, I had to switch to an endocrinologist for adults.  She was frequently late for my appointments (like, hours late), and she did not seem to hear my complaints. She would just write stuff down, and tell me to up my steroid dosage.

During that year, I had issues with heart palpitations and fainting.  Things that were never an issue in my life.

When I went home after my freshman year of college, I was exhausted.  I slept all the time.  I just couldn't bring myself to do anything.

I went back to school, and reported all this to my endo, so upped the steroid dosage, again.

Things got worse.  I slept more hours of the day than I was awake.  I missed almost all of my classes.  I missed work.  I was like an elderly person on the verge of death.

Mr Headless (at the time just "Boyfriend Headless"), wanted to go with me to my next appointment.  It was a bone density scan appointment (large levels of steroids will cause osteoporosis).  While he waited for me to come out, he found a pamphlet about DHEA levels, and how the levels of DHEA are directly related to life function.

DHEA is produced in the adrenal glands.  Unless the adrenal glands have been forced into a state of atrophy due to steroid medication.  The more we read, the more it seemed that this was the problem.  I was running out of DHEA in my body.

We were going to ask about my DHEA levels at my next appointment with the endo.  But there never was another endo appointment.  I got a letter a few weeks later saying that she was no longer seeing patients, and that I needed to find a new doctor.

When I went into my appointment with my new doctor, the nurse practitioner in the office looked over my paperwork.  She was startled to see the dosage of steroids I was on.  She said, "that level of steroids is appropriate for a 300 lb man, not a 100 lb girl!"  Then she added, "also, I've looked over your old blood work, and I'm not sure you ever actually had this disease."

They weaned me off the medication, so as not to shock my body.  When I was completely off, they retested me.  I didn't have CAH.  I never had.  I had been over medicated for a disease I never had for over five years.  The doctor said I was, "borderline, at best."  She would never have made a positive diagnosis based on the results she saw.

The doctor said, "If you had continued on that level of steroids just a few months longer, you would have died."  My DHEA levels were in the single digits.  My body was shutting down.  I would have died.

But I didn't die.  That letter saved my life.  That perfectly timed intervention.  That divine act.

The (Relatively Important) Stuff I Don't Think About: Part 1

Full Disclosure:  When I first got married, I really wanted 3 children: 2 biological children and 1 adopted child.

After Lil G was born, I still wanted 3 children, and I wanted my second bio child ASAP.  Mr Headless wasn't ready, so we waited.  Considering the issues I ended up having with PPD (and later, PTSD), waiting was a very wise decision.

When Lil G was 15 months old, I dreamt that I was pregnant.  The baby in the dream was a boy.  I shared this dream with Mr Headless, and to my surprise, he said, "that sounds nice."  I asked if he wanted to go for #2, and he said, "yes."  

From the days of trying to conceive Lil G, I discovered that I don't ovulate regularly, so  I was delighted to have a positive ovulation test in the first month of trying for #2.  Within 3 weeks, I felt pregnant.  I had several of the early symptoms I had when I was newly pregnant with Lil G.  The thought of soon having a second child, when my first was still so needy and nonverbal, was actually really scary.  I tried to stay calm as I waited for official confirmation.

I tested on cycle day 24, and saw the faintest positive, and then within an hour, I started spotting.  I'm a little ashamed to admit, I felt relieved in that moment.  I was newly off my depression meds (and was not yet ready to be), and I was freaking out at the thought of having another child.  After that brief moment of relief, though, I began to feel very sad, and pregnancy announcements from friends and family definitely did not help during this time.

I later discovered that I have a progesterone deficiency.  I don't think I always had one, but maybe I did, and it's just worse now (I did have to take medication to induce ovulation in order to conceive Lil G).  So, I took a variety of medications that were supposed to fix the issue, and they never did.  

During this time, Mr Headless decided he didn't think he would ever want another child after all, and if he did, it would be many years away.  I went on birth control pills as the last ditch effort to fix the hormonal issues.  A year later, I still have a progesterone deficiency, even on birth control pills.

The progesterone deficiency means that I both don't ovulate consistently, and that when I do, my cycle is too short to maintain a pregnancy.  The hormones just aren't right.  

Even if we wanted another child, right now, it would not be possible.  Maybe it will fix itself with time, and maybe it won't.  I just don't know.

I don't ever say that we're not having another child due to infertility.  First of all, I don't want pity, and infertility either illicits pity or disbelief.  I also don't appreciate the idea that I am making up a fertility issue as a cop out.  My own mother is resistant to the idea of secondary infertility, and definitely doesn't believe that she could have produced a child who isn't super fertile.  Secondly, part of me feels like if Mr Headless and I both really wanted a second child, we would find a way to have one.  Either I would try even more medication to have another biological child, or we would apply to adopt a child from China in a few years time (I always wanted to adopt from China).  However, we don't want another child right now, and likely never will.  

This is why I say simply that "our family is complete."  

I say this line so much, that I rarely think about my infertility, and I rarely think about the child I lost (who would be 7 months old right now).  I believe that what happened was meant to be.  I believe our family is exactly the way it should be right now.  So why does thinking about it still make me feel so sad?