Catch up with the story:
I’m missing periods, gaining weight, I’m tired, moody and living with my college boyfriend of 4 years.
I admit, we had done the deed. Prior to this relationship, I was a virgin. Never had a pregnancy scare, I was told actually, there was some issues with my uterus; so conceiving was difficult but not impossible for me anyhow. I was careful and doing all the things a sexually active adult does; we used protection.
But still, I could be pregnant. Abstainance is the only 100% method afterall.
So I went out and got a EPT test. I wanted 3 to make sure…. You know. Negative, Negative, Negative.
3 months pass, I gained a total of 50lbs and I felt the same. Again, EPT x3. Negative, Negative, Negative.
Go to the doctors, negative. Ultra sound, got eggs in my ovaries. A lot actually. I could repopulate a small town. Everything looked functional.
1 year passes. I maintain this 50lbs gained and my hair is falling out. I’ve got a bunch, but only I notice something’s up.
What’s happening to me?!
At this point, I’m living with just Ryan and working at a grocery store as an assistant front end manager, I’ve got health insurance, new glasses, positive outlook that whatever is going on, I’ll be okay!
My boyfriend though, he’s unhappy at work. We went to school to teach! Not wait or ring up groceries. He was not content that “Que Sera Sera” is how the world worked. We went to college so, automatically we should have teaching jobs. I think a lot of people wish if we did what we were told, we would be rewarded!
He asked me to apply for teaching jobs. One of us surely would get one. He applied everywhere, had many interviews, to no avail.
I applied 5 places. Had 2 interviews and got a job in less than a month.
So we moved, the fastest move ever, so I could make the start of the semester.
One of the requirements to teach in my state is a physical and a TB test. I went into a local office that would do these tests short notice. I wait for a hour and this gentleman of indeterminate age, with snowy white hair comes in. He asks me questions and gives me a look.
“I think I know what’s wrong with you. As soon as we can, we’re getting you a MRI. “
A week later I am in a giant white tube with my head viced inbetween two foam pillows. My brain, they are scanning my brain.
What is wrong with my brain? The clicking is rhythmic and sounds like a train going down a track. I grew up by tracks, and soon, I fall into a light sleep.
45 minutes later a voice tells me they are done and not to move. My test will be sent back to the doctor and he’ll give me a call because, I’ve got to move to my new town!
A couple weeks later I called doctor back (he left a voicemail to call but first year teaching, so busy! And maybe… I was avoiding it a bit… Yeah…)
Very calmly, the gentleman from the clinic tells me I have options. Brain tumors, Specifically Pititary Adenomas, are treatable things. I probably won’t need brain surgery for awhile! Maybe never!
At 25 I was already fighting vision loss and here I was, with a tumor on or inside my Pititary gland.
Children, I didn’t have to worry about children anymore, most women cannot get pregnant with these. I had the ultimate birth control, my friend spun it to me. I’d be safe! Adoption, fostering…
Ryan wanted to have kids, biologically. He did not want to adopt.
I was afraid. I loved him, we were engaged. Here was this truth, babies just weren’t in the cards. People divorce for less.
I am lucky and was lucky because he told me the truth I knew in my heart all along, “you don’t know that. It’s not up to you or the doctors. God may have other plans.”
He stuck to that idea, and no matter what I said, he kept telling me that “I didn’t know,” what would happen.
He stuck to his guns. I began treatment with various tumor compacting medicines to find the right amount and dose to help me.
The tumor caused my glad to make prolactin, cortisol, and other pregnancy hormones. My body was under the impression I had been pregnant… For years! Once we got these levels to zero, it was a month before my wedding, my body was giving me a period once more, and I even started ovulating. I lost 15 pounds and I was feeling great.
We were married in front of friends and family, in a lovely small ceremony. It was beautiful.
3 weeks later I found out I was 6 weeks pregnant.
The doctors cautioned me about keeping my baby. My tumor could double and triple in size due to the HGH I was producing. I could die. The baby could die. I could lose control of lims if the tumor grew one way, or go blind if it grew another. It was unlikely the baby would make it past the first trimester. It was up to me.
First I got off my pills for my tumor because they “stop vein growth.” (Among other things. Trying to grow a human here…. Need veins. Lots.) Then I prayed, and talked to my husband, a lot.
I decided that if I was pregnant, that God wanted me pregnant. He wouldn’t allow me to become with child unless he wanted me to carry him to term.
I visualized positive outcomes, I prayed, I played music, and I focused on the goal. I landed in the emergency room a couple times with contractions at 19wks, 26wks, and 37wks. I was put on IVs, I had to take two rounds of antibiotics. I threw up almost my entire pregnancy.
My son was born healthy at 40wks, and I tell you he is my miracle baby.
The miracles didn’t stop there. Though I had a rough pregnancy, I had an almost too easy birth. I did have breathing issues but other that that, I was up and about within 2 weeks after he was born.
My tumor didn’t grow, as far as they could tell without an MRI. I even breastfed,!which was virtually unheard of with women who had pituitary adenomas.
My son is now 15 months and oh so happy. He makes me happy. He makes us happy.
Life can be tough but man, I’m living pretty well. We are even happy, I dare say! So that’s my life story. Typed out on an iPhone in 4 posts. Makes me think I have a lot more to accomplish! Thanks for getting to know me on a more personal level!