Hello again

I have neglected this blog to such an extent lately that I am not quite sure how to start this post, and I imagine it being greeted only by the sound of crickets. I am still here, though, still alive and well. I'm especially thankful to be well because the status of my physical health was called into question during the past couple of months.

It started with a trip to my OB/GYN in mid-March because I was concerned that I hadn't had a cycle since my miscarriage in January, and that wasn't normal for me. Always before, my cycle was back to normal within four weeks after the bleeding from a miscarriage resolved. This time, I waited and waited...and there was nothing. I started to worry that something was wrong, maybe Asherman's Syndrome. After all, I have had four D&Cs; it wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility that my uterus had developed scarring that could prevent the normal build-up and shedding of the endometrium. For some reaon, that thought really bothered me. Even if I wasn't ever planning to use my uterus again to try to carry another child, I didn't like the thought of my reproductive system being even more broken than it already is. So I made an appointment with my doctor.

An ultrasound showed my uterus to be empty, with a very thin lining, and a blood test revealed that I still had hcg (the pregnancy hormone) in my body; the level was 13, which was low but would be enough to prevent a new cycle from occurring. I was relieved and figured that the number probably would drop down to normal by the blood draw scheduled for the following week.

Well, the number didn't go down; it went up for three consecutive weeks, and I definitely had not conceived a new pregnancy. No pregnancy, but my body was pumping out increasing levels of hcg nonetheless. That's a problem. My doctor was concerned that I might have developed a type of rare gestational trophoblastic disease, probably the variation known as choriocarcinoma, in which trophoblastic/placental cells leftover after a pregnancy loss, stillbirth, or normal live birth morph into malignant, cancerous cells. Because the cells originated as products of conception, they pump out increasing levels of hcg as they grow. Also, the only marker/test for that type of cancer is increasing hcg levels; it's the only type of cancer that isn't diagnosed via a tissue sample. The treatment is chemotherapy with methotrexate.

During the weeks that my hcg was rising, I went to a different doctor for a mammogram. (My mom is a breast cancer survivor, and I have had problems with breast cysts, so I get checked out periodically by an oncologist merely as a precaution.) Well, you guessed it, the mammogram looked a bit suspicious, which led to me being scheduled for a breast MRI, which also looked suspicious. This breast cancer scare dragged out for a few weeks before it finally was concluded that the areas of concern are benign and there's nothing to worry about. No breast cancer here, thank God.

Now, you probably can imagine how I was feeling during the weeks when it appeared that not only had I lost my dad and my baby in the same weekend earlier in the year, but that I also may be diagnosed with two separate types of cancer at the same time. Really, it was getting absurd, to the point that I was beginning to wonder exactly how dark the cloud was that seemed to be constantly hovering over my head, and to the extent that I didn't even feel like talking about it, much less writing about it.

To make matters worse, in early March my husband and I had pulled out and dusted off our adoption paperwork that had been languishing since late last year (it had fallen by the wayside in October during my mom's cardiac bypass surgery and then again when we unexpectedly discovered in December that I was pregnant), and we once again were getting excited about the hope of building our family through adoption. We even scheduled our homestudy for early April...and then cancelled it because of all my health concerns. If I were diagnosed with cancer, there would be no adoption for us, at least not for a while, not until I was healthy again. I couldn't imagine that an adoption agency would approve/ a birthparent would choose a prospective adoptive parent who was fighting newly diagnosed cancer...and even if they would, I couldn't imagine that I would have the physical and emotional resources to undergo treatment while at the same time caring for a baby in the way that I would want to care for a baby.

At first, I was very frustrated because it appeared the rug was going to get pulled out from under us again in our attempts to have a family, very angry that our hopes were dashed not only with seven pregnancies but also now with the potential path of adoption. I tried to take things bit by bit, to not get overwhelmed with the upsetting possibilities, to let go and trust God...but I must admit that I didn't succeed very well. I was already so emotionally depleted by grief over losing Dad to cancer, on top of losing all the babies, plus I was trying my best to be supportive of my good friend who is fighting ovarian cancer (she had major surgery around that time) and the pace of my job was getting more hectic. To add to all this the prospect that our hopes of adopting a baby could be dashed by my own potential cancer diagnoses on two separate fronts...well, it was almost too much.

But it was not quite too much. Through God's grace, I kept functioning, getting up and going to the office daily, as usual, getting my job done, going to church, cooking, trying to eat healthy foods, going for walks in the evening, being a wife, daughter, sister, friend. My sister said, "I don't know how you keep going," but really, what other choice is there? I just kept on going because there isn't any other good option. Still, I felt so tired, so worn out. I miss my dad so much and still found myself crying often about it. I kept trying to pray, even though I didn't feel much like it. I went to prayer services at church and had people pray for me and with me, and believed that it would have to help in some way, even if my circumstances didn't improve. I knew I had to hang on to my faith in God even when I wasn't emotionally feeling it.

I was grateful when the specter of breast cancer was lifted from me, but I continued to have weekly blood draws to check my hcg. This cycle of getting up extra early for a blood draw before work, then waiting breathlessly (sometimes up to 2 1/2 days) for the nurse to phone me with results continued throughout April. During that time, I had frequent spotting and a few irregular bouts of very heavy bleeding and severe cramps.

After the initial weeks during which my hcg increased, it dipped lower, and then bounced around in between 10 and 20 for a while. My OB/GYN thought that we could stop worrying about the potential of choriocarcinoma because if I had it, my hcg numbers probably would have gotten much higher by that point. Instead, the theory was that I had retained some products of conception that were taking a long time to release; the miscarriage was still dragging out four months after the D&C.

Finally, this week, my hcg finally dropped down to 4.9; below 5.0 is considered to be a normal, nonpregnant level, so it appears that the physical aftermath of my seventh miscarriage is now officially over, thank God.

I am extremely grateful and relieved. Now that we have confirmation that I am in good health, my husband and I have gotten back in touch with our adoption social worker and scheduled our homestudy for the beginning of June.

It took us a long period--years, actually--of talk, research, thought, and prayer to get to the point where we felt as though we could let go of our dream of having a successful pregnancy ending in the birth of our "own" living, biological child and to embrace instead adoption and all the issues that it entails, but now we are feeing hopeful and excited about adopting a baby. Our paperwork is almost completely done, and this weekend we are going to plant annuals around our yard to make it prettier for the first home visit. It feels good to be closing (hopefully) the miscarriage chapter of my life and moving forward on a different path to parenthood.

I am not quite sure what to do with my blog at this point. All the women whom I have connected with through it have been such a blessing to me that I hate to leave it, but at the same time, I am not sure if I want to morph this into an adoption blog. I haven't felt much like posting lately and therefore have been wondering if maybe this blog is something that I was meant to do only for a season.

I'll figure it out, but regardless, I always will deeply appreciate and be grateful to everyone who has taken the time to read my story and to offer words of support and encouragement; they have been a godsend, and I know that in large part your kindness and prayers are why I am still standing despite all the losses that I have chronicled on this blog. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to anyone who is still reading, and God bless.

Comments

[dawn]

Please please at least update when your baby comes home? You both remain in my prayers and I would love to hear about when you officially become parents!

[susie]

I think of you often. Whatever you decide about continuing your blog, I wish you all the best in this new chapter as you begin the adoption process.

[elizabeth]

I will totally understand if you don't want to blog anymore (I think it's kind of like when people keep a journal during stressful or sad times to sort out thier feelings), but PLEASE let us know when your sweet baby comes home. I would love to know about your happy ending. I will continue to pray for you and your family. Thanks for updating us. I was getting worried.

[Jen]

Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry the last few months have been so difficult, but so glad you're healthy now.

You remain in my thoughts and prayers, and I am so excited about you becoming a mom through adoption!

[MichelleL]

Good luck with the adoption journey. I do hope it goes smoothly and quickly for you.

I was very concerned to read of your health issues, but happy to read that it all seems to have resolved.

I will be sending positive vibes your way. :)

[Jennifer F.]

Thank you for the update. You have been in my thoughts and prayers often since your last post.

[Carrie P]

Hi - I've read several of your posts in the past but rarely (if ever) commented. I wanted to reach out to you today because I'm stunned by what you have had to cope with in the past year, and so relieved for you that your worst fears weren't realised. It's so true that you just keep going because there is no valid alternative, but recently you've had to face far more trials than most of us. You write so movingly.

I so hope that adoption is a successful and fulfilling path for you. I'll be thinking of you.

[Irene]

I usually never post comments on blogs, but I just wanted to write and wish you all the best. I am amazed and humbled by your story and wish you all the best. Best of luck to you and your family and hope that in a few years, I might come across your blog in the form of a "mommy blog". God bless.

[Kath]

Dear Jill, I'm so sad to hear how much additional pain you've had to go through since January. What a terrible addition to your burden. But what a relief that you've had reassurance on the health front now, and that you can at last move forward. That's wonderful.

I understand about not knowing what to do with your blog at the moment, though I hope that you will find some way to let us know how things go. I wish you so much luck and happiness with the adoption, my dear.

[Leggy]

Ugh how awful- what an ordeal. Glad everything is fine and I'm excited to hear about your adoption plans. Please keep us updated (as frequently or infrequently as you'd like).

[Melissa]

I understand too if you don't blog anymore. However, you have been an inspiration to me. It's so easy to get caught up in our own personal issues, and it helps tremendously to see someone else who is having struggles of their own to keep going. And even though you are heading down a different path, I think it gives all of us hope that we too can still be happy.

Even if you don't blog after your adoption, please update us when your baby will be coming. I know we will all celebrate for you.

[Ruby]

I think of you often and check your blog daily. I wish you the very best in whatever path you chose.

I do hope you keep the blog and we can follow your journey through adoption.

[Sami]

I check on you frequently and am glad to see you are back - even if briefly. I've thought and prayed for you and your family over the last few months. I am so sorry that you had those health scares, but so very relieved that you physically are okay. I know emotionally you are still healing. Whatever you do with this blog... please keep in touch. I know that is very selfish of me, but truly - please keep in touch. Know you are in my prayers on a daily basis and I am so very thankful for the support you have given me since we met online... Hang in there and know that you have friends out there in the great big world who are always thinking of you and cheering you on.

I am sad to hear of your health concerns but am relieved for you that you have been given a clean bill of health. I hope your dreams come to fruition soon :) Thinking of you.

[Kristin]

Hi there...I'm a long time reader, but this is my first comment. I am so sorry for all that you've been through this past year. I'm relieved to know that your health is OK, but I'm sure it has been a very scary time for you. My husband and I have also had several unexplained miscarriges, and have moved on to international adoption. I want you to know that your writing has been a great inspiration to me both spiritually and emotionally, and this blog has helped in my journey to healing and hope. I hope you'll continue to write about your journey, but I understand if it is time to let it go. You and your family will continue in our prayers.

[Salome Ellen]

Dear Jill, Check back here when and if you feel like it. You will continue in my prayers.

[Sonya]

Jill, I'm so sorry for all that you have been through in the past year. You have handled it all so admirably and with such grace. Your strength and faith are truly inspriarional, not to mention how eloquently you write about it all. I understand if you decide to stop blogging but I, like so many others, would love to share in your happiness when you become a mother.

As an aside, do you know about the "mutiple miscarriages" board on babycenter.com? It's a pretty small group but very supportive. I know I sometimes fine it's nice to correspond with women who "get" exactly what I have been through. Several families there are in the process of adopting. If you're interested and have any trouble finding the board just email me.

[Jennifer]

Chirp chirp...

yet another adoring cricket answering your post.

I have tremendous faith in the joy that awaits you in your future in whatever form it takes and however it arrives.

"I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living."

Love you, Jill.

[Gina]

Jill,
I am so glad that you are doing better. I've been watching your post for the last several weeks, hoping that you were alright. I am still praying for you and your family and know that someday you will no longer be under that dark cloud. We all understand about you possibly deciding to end your blog, I'm so glad to have learned about you and your family and read about your faith in God. Take care. Love, Gina

[Anna]

Jill-

It's so good to hear from you. I've been checking your blog often and wondering how you were. I'm sorry for all the added stress of the past few months, but I'm glad to hear that the fears have resolved.

I understand your reluctance to continue this blog. Selfishly, I want you to continue because your writing inspires and helps me. But you're smart to just trust your instincts and see what you feel inspired to do. Meanwhile, I'm sending you all my best wishes and prayers.

Anna

[Lila]

De-lurking to say: I came here nearly every day. Much moved about your father. And your faith.

Do whatever you feel like with your blog. But if you can - let us know how your journey goes on, and let us have the privilege of greeting your child.

Much luck on the way. I'll continue to come here, and my prayers are with you.

[T]

Jill,

Thank God your cancer scare was just a scare!

May God bless you abundantly in your adoption journey!

[Mary Ellen]

I am so sorry for all that you have been through. I wish you all the best as you start your adoption journey. Sending you a hug.

[Heather]

Dear Jill,
I'm so very sorry to hear that the last few months have been so incredibly stressful, but am greatly relieved to hear that things are looking better. Although I'm sure I don't have to tell you this, keep in mind that sometimes the darker the cloud hanging over us, the more beautiful the sunshine is once the cloud moves on. I wish you the best of luck in your journey to adopt and will keep you in my thoughts and prayers.

[isabel]

Glad you're okay.

Whatever happens with your blog, I wish you the very, very best. I'm hopeful about your future because God is good.