Why Me?
Why me? Two words which I feel far too familiar with. Words which I spent years crying into my pillow and which even now sneak up on me when I least expect it.
I have polycystic ovaries - hundreds of fluid filled cysts surrounding the ovaries and preventing ovulation. I've known for some time now - long before we got married, but back then I was full of optimism. "We'll be ok", "Miracles happen", "Something will turn up". Only it doesn't.
I had years of tests - painful, humiliating tests that left you wondering if you were even still a woman. In this country the NHS offers no counselling. Ten years ago it was even worse and I for one felt like nothing more than a number on a list. I'd often wait for hours to see a registrar who obviously hadn't read my notes and was desperately trying to get to the next patient. Answer a few questions, go for another blood test and continue taking the pills even though they make you ill and our results show they're not working. I remember once having to persuade a doctor that I was not "Daisy" something or other. That was who he had notes for so why wasn't I? Was I absolutely sure I was Dawn Evans? No, my brain stopped working when my ovaries did obviously!
I became quite desperate. Dreading each month when it was confirmed that I wasn't pregnant. People put pressure on too, asking all the time and walking on eggshells. Friends didn't like to tell me they were pregnant and of course it hurt that they were and I wasn't but I was pleased for them - I wouldn't wish this on anyone - and it hurt to be left out.
It was Christmas of 1989 that I fell pregnant. It was completely unexpected. The hospital had just given up on me and had transferred me to a 2 year waiting list for a London specialist clinic. I didn't believe it at first - I didn't believe it until I'd had 4 tests! The joy was indescribable. Just to know that I could be pregnant. Many people had been praying for me and there were many to celebrate with me. There were many more who never knew there was a problem. I felt ashamed - part of me still does - and the pain is so personal and not many really understand it - "be patient "- "adopt " (not that I have anything against that, it's just not that easy to do here and it doesn't address the feelings of failure and freakishness). The worst comments are - "oh you can have mine they're awful," - or - "you don't know how lucky you are kids are so expensive and such a tie"
The pregnancy did not go well. At just 12 weeks I started showing signs of pre-enclampsia and they put me on bed rest and pumped me full of drugs. They started talking about a caesarean at 6 months if I and the baby were to have any chance. They started talking about mortality rates in babies that are pre-term and brain damage. No counselling. They told me to relax!! Relax? I felt like the bottom had dropped out of my world. I prayed - like I never have before - and I spent hours flat on my back talking to my baby. I remember thinking that if my baby was born dead it would still have known its mother and it would know how much it was wanted and loved.
At six months I was taken in for pre-op tests only to discover that things had not deteriorated as badly as expected. Every week is crucial to the baby and they felt it was safe to allow my baby an extra week. "Come back next week." Next week they said, "Come back next week" - all this time I was having daily visits from the most excellent team of midwives in the world. They were the only medical people who gave me hope. I know they can't build false hopes in hospital but they could learn compassion. The following week, my condition had improved so much that they actually reduced my drugs.
At 8 months I took a turn for the worst and they performed a caesarean. My pre-term "brain damaged" baby was 8lb 4oz and is now 7 years old and academically well above national averages for his age. I call him my miracle baby because I sincerely believe God helped keep him alive. I have heard people blame God for illness or problems or say its a punishment for some "sin". I can't accept that. This world is not as God created it. He created it without pain and disease - man brought those into the world. I am infertile and its no ones fault. God has helped me through my darkest times, held me in his arms and let me grieve for what I cannot have and I can never thank him enough. I also have to mention my husband - Kerry - who was a tower of strength - and my church who were loving and caring. I also have to say that our medical services do the best they are able in most instances. They work ridiculous hours and too much is expected of them. Our health service is at fault not the individuals within it.
Still Crying I have my son and he is the most precious thing in the world to me. I am constantly aware of the privilege of being his mum. If I could have picked his characteristics from a big catalogue, I doubt I could have chosen a child that would suit me better. We love the same things, understand each other's moods and have terrific fun.
Why then do I still cry? Why is the need for another child so strong? Can anyone explain that to me? For the past 7 years I've had tests, drugs, specialists, Chinese herbalists and nothing works. My health deteriorates - I often bleed now for up to 3 months at a time - very, very heavily - leaving me weak, tired and anaemic. There has not been the slightest suggestion of a pregnancy and tests have revealed just the ovarian cysts and massive hormonal imbalances - no other physical problems.
I stopped attending all the clinics this year. I've had enough. Most people seem to have forgotten I have a problem and despite the advances made in the last 10 years people are still awkward and embarrassed when they find out. I feel lonely in my grief. I can't ask God for help -yes I know I should - because I feel I've had my miracle and I'm very aware of those still suffering without any children. After 7 years even Kerry (my husband) doesn't discuss it any more. All that's left is the pillow in the dark ... Why Me?
I found it very hard to write this. It's very painful for me and intensely personal. I had no intention of letting "strangers" this far into my home but I accidentally surfed into a site on SIDS recently and spent the evening in tears. The Author said it helped her to put it all down and many had written to say that it helped them to know they weren't alone. She was right. It does help to put it down and to all you crying out there "Why me?" -
Contact me by email and I will try my best to reply. Please note - some of you have written but sent an invalid email address and I am unable to contact you - if you have NOT heard back from me then please write again to check I have your correct details. A big thank you to all you who do take the time to write. I say back to you what so many of you say to me - thank you for sharing. Sadly I am not on line often anymore so I do tend to get a backlog - sorry - *smile* ... Dawn
This page was written some time ago now (spring 1998 I think!). It was written from the heart and even now I find it hard to read. I have learned a lot and met some wonderful people since then who have helped me, as I hope I helped them. I am no closer to my second child and I do not have much hope left either - but I am ok about it :) (not happy but ok!) I will add a second page one day and update things better but it does not feel the right time yet. So for now I will leave this page up - many people have written to me because of it and many of them thanked me for having the page here so I guess in its own quiet way it is being of use :) *smiles* ...... Dawn Graphics by Designer Originals New URL needed!! |
