Yeah, babies.

I have had babies on the brain for over a year now.
It all started with a pregnancy "scare" last September. I wasn't pregnant, but seriously, within those two weeks, three people had babies and another two announced that they were pregnant.
And, seeming so strange to me, it totally crushed me.
I was absolutely devastated.

Which was weird. I was 19, living with my boyfriend (now husband), enjoying drinking, etcetera, and the only babies I wanted were my furry kids.
And I'd taken pregnancy tests before.
But that time...well, I ended up taking about 4 tests. All negative. And each negative broke my heart.

At that time, Ben and I had "the talk", e.g., "What happens when this happens for real?"
He said he wasn't ready to have a child. That he didn't think we were ready to have a child.
And I told him that I would never be able to carry a child for 9 months and put it up for adoption. And that I don't think I could ever have an abortion, not in those circumstances. I got very teary-eyed and explained that if I ever aborted or adopted out my child, I don't think I could ever have a child in the future. I couldn't do it.
And he sighed. He paused. Then he kissed me and hugged me and told me that if I ever got pregnant, it was my decision what to do, and he would support me and we would figure it out together, because we are good together and we had both already discussed having children (but preferably, in the future).

Since then...it was almost a let down every time my period came. Not always blatantly so...but there was always a little twinge.

When I had my ruptured cyst, my gynecologist explained that once they were in surgery, they might find that they had to remove one or both ovaries.
I woke up from that surgery bawling my eyes out (thanks, ketamine!), and the first thing I did was call over this sweet, old nurse and in between sobs asked if I was still able to have babies. She rubbed my hand and said, "Of course, sweetie. Everything went fine." And then I proceeded to tell her about my dog that I had recently put to sleep and how badly I missed him and sobbed even harder, at which point two surgery techs came over and upped my IV pain meds. Twice. Ha ha.

Since I've been sick, the urge has slowed. Simply because I know at this point I cannot be a good mom. Well, physically I really couldn't be. Maybe eventually I'll scan my uterus pictures. My intestines are wrapped around my uterus. There is about enough room for a fist-sized baby in there. And there is so much swelling that there is no means of expansion.
So my uterus is completely inhospitable...but my ovaries are in hyperdrive. I've been ovulating not one, but two eggs a month . While on birth control to prevent ovulation because it causes my cysts.
Go figure.

When we first moved into this apartment, Ben and I would buy a six pack once or twice a week and sit in the living room and get tipsy and talk about everything. We would talk about babies and me being pregnant and about how we want our first house to look like and how we want a big backyard for kids to play in and what kind of parents we want to be. About getting our kids their first puppy. About how our pets are SO PERFECT for children. (Seriously, I have a cat who not only tolerates infants, she loves them. She purrs if you yank her tail, tug her ears, or if you're a ten month old drooling on her and yanking her hair out. So silly.)
He said he would like to be at least 25 before we talk about trying.
Which is ideal for me, because back when I had that scare I told him I want to have kids young. I said 23 or so. And about two months after I turn 23, he'll turn 25.

I know this isn't going anywhere, sorry, I'm on a drugged up ramble.

I have always wanted to be a mom. I always figured I would adopt, because I honestly never saw myself getting married. A lot of my plans changed when I met Ben, and I couldn't be happier about that.
I have so many pets because I love to nurture. I like changing bandages and giving meds and finding the perfect healthy food that's still affordable. I like routine checkups and cleaning up accidents and throwing away the things they shred.

Strangely, my dog, Max Brown, changed my opinion on special needs children. Hear me out, I swear it kind of makes sense. To put a long story short, he was a severely mentally disabled dog. He was nearly feral. But he adored me. I was his world. He loved me and he tried so hard to please me. You could see him trying so hard to be a good dog...but he just couldn't. He wasn't like other dogs; he didn't understand other dogs. But with me, he made a great deal of progress. He took up my life, though. He had terrible separation anxiety. My life changed - I couldn't go out after work, because he hated his crate so much and was so stressed without me. I couldn't go on vacation, because he wasn't comfortable with anyone else. Ben was so great during this time...he liked Max Brown, but they didn't have the same connection. But he told me that he knew how important this dog was to me and he would support us. Unfortunately, Max Brown developed a brain tumor that made him very aggressive so we had to put him down, but that doesn't coincide with what I'm trying to say. God that still makes me tear up.
REGARDLESS. I realized that...just because they can't do everything the way they're supposed to, just because they don't see things like everyone else, just because other people don't think they're worth it...they are. Dogs, and people. And the joy and love you get from that connection is completely indescribable, but the most beautiful feeling. I can't even imagine what it would be like with a child. That same joy, tenfold.

But every day, I'm more sure that I'm destined to be a mom.
I love talking to my mom about her pregnancies and experiences as a mom (obviously I was there for some of it, but it's different talking about it as adults, you know?).

And I will be fine if I end up infertile after this is all said and done.
I would LOVE to experience pregnancy and birth. I would absolutely love it.
But I know there are so many kids out there waiting to be adopted, and there's no limit on my maternal love. I've got it in spades, for anyone willing to take it.
I don't want to do fertility treatments or surrogacy or anything like that. I'm a huge believer in "what is mean to be will be" - and if I can't physically bear children, then it just means I get to provide a child in need with a home, with two loving parents. And loving pets!

I think the thing that scares me most about this illness is the idea that the effects will be permanent...that I won't be able to be a mom at all. I can't chase after a toddler. And I'm likely too incapacitated to be allowed to adopt, even to adopt a teenager.
But I feel it in my heart, that I need to be a mom. I need it so badly it hurts.
And I can't imagine having that feeling and still being totally unable, you know?
I can't imagine being put here with all this maternal instinct and no outlet for it. So that gives me hope.

WOW, this ended up really long. Thank you if you read all the way through it! I have a lot more to add but won't do that now. Maybe there will be a part 2, I don't know. I'm just a baby crazed lady. And I love it. It does keep me going on tough days...I know I have a lot to look forward to still.

So, I coughed up a tonsil stone earlier - it was really large and I just made some comment like, "Ew, tonsil stone."

Ben was like, "What the hell is that?"

So I explained tonsil stones.
And he mentions this bump near his tonsils that he's had for years. I made him let me look down his throat, and there is this dime sized lump around his tonsils/soft palate.
And he's never had it checked out.

So I'm ridiculously freaked out, convinced my husband has mouth cancer.
I'm dragging him to an Urgent Care tomorrow.
Please, please send good thoughts his way. Hopefully it's nothing, but I'm a worrier and completely panicked over it. Thoughts, prayers, anything, please? Thank you.

Back from my gastric emptying scan.
Radioactive food is gross. I'm weird - I love hospital food. Only stayed in the hospital once, but seriously, people must complain way too much 'cause I loved it. But today I had to eat eggs and toast with jelly, and it was pretty gross. They made me eat it all really quickly too, which my stomach HATED since I've been off the Zofran since about midnight between Friday and Saturday.

It wasn't a bad test, just LONG. Had to get there at 9, they took the first scan at 10, second at 11, third at 12, fourth at 2. Was bored outta my mind, man! And really uncomfortable.

Don't know when I'll get the results back. I do know that there was visible radioactivity on each scan (the way it was set up, I got to watch half of each scan, since they do one 1 minute scan from your front, one 1 minute scan from your back). But since I have no nuclear medicine experience, I couldn't tell you WHERE in my body the radioactivity was. I am glad that at least there are no side effects from this radioactive isotope - I'm just going to have radioactive poop today. Hahaha.

I am SO glad to be back on the Vicodin, but I am really proud of myself for making it the whole time without it. The pain was terrible, yes, but by this morning, I think the actual withdrawal symptoms were gone. I was still in pain, still nauseous, still everything else...but there was something a little different. It was a very familiar pain. There's just this weird fog that overcomes you when you detox, and it is so good when it leaves.
But anyway, I'm very proud of myself that I was able to detox from it - even though it was temporary - and I lived. Which means that when I'm all better, I'll be able to do it again, for good. I have an addictive personality, so I was very worried. I hid my Vicodin bottle and tried to stay as comfortable as possible, even though I couldn't eat, walk, or sleep....same as usual, haha, but again, there's just something different about it.
I guess when you experience something day in and day out for so long, you get used to it. Yeah, it sucks, absolutely, but you can push through it. You can still function. But when you add something to it, such as Vicodin withdrawal, it gets a lot harder.

So, meds are kicking back in (had to take 5 pills total when I got home, haha! My vitamin D supplements, multivitamin, Zofran, Vicodin) and I'm in a lovely mood.
Still nervous about what they'll find. Gastroparesis would be good and bad - not deadly, but not curable, and only barely treatable. I'm also seriously worried about Carcinoid Syndrome/Carcinoid Cancer. But whatever it is, I'm going to beat it. I'm going to get my life back, one way or another. I want to run a mile, go hiking, swimming, take a trip to the big dog park, go on a road trip, take a honeymoon (since we never took one after the wedding), delve further into my college studies, get a fun new job, go out to dinner with my husband, get back into my volunteer programs. I was really bummed - right before my condition took a turn for the worse, I was getting ready to volunteer with Children Services and mentor foster kids. I would LOVE to be able to do that. So once I'm better, I'm going to take the classes and start doing that!

Also, yesterday was our 7 month wedding anniversary
Of course, I was no fun whatsoever, but I can't even explain how lucky I am to have such an understanding husband.
Oh, and he got me two sword canes! Haha! A coworker of his is divorcing her husband (he beat her up, and she left with the kids - very proud of her!) and he collected sword canes, so when Ben was saying he wanted to get me one, she brought a few in since she has no use for them! Ben wants me to have one so that when I have to go somewhere alone, I've got a form of defense.
Don't know if I mentioned this last week, but I walked up to the pharmacy and a homeless man approached me. I didn't have ANY money other than my prescription money, so I apologized and kept walking...at which point he started chasing me, saying I was a "fake cripple bitch" etc., so I "ran" (must have been a sight to see!) into the pharmacy, and when I left he was waiting outside, so I had to "run" out the back exit, into the alley, and like two blocks out of the way to get back home (the pharmacy is about 1/2 a block from my house).
I was so upset, in so much pain, and totally humiliated and violated. But now, I have a sword cane, so if all else fails, I'll just whip that baby out. Haha.

That's all I've got for now. Long, rambly post, I know! It's the Vicodin