Part 7: Change of Plans

Part 7: Change of Plans

When we went into the office, we were expecting to just see our nurse. However, when Dr. Cantuaria walked in instead, we knew something more was going on.

After he checked out the area that was giving me problems and ruled it as bad inflammation, he shared my biopsy results with us. Just as he suspected, all of my biopsies came back as a slow-growing Noninvasive Serous Borderline Ovarian Tumors - Stage 3b. He said that while he was glad nothing came back labeled as “invasive”, he was honestly shocked because he had expected at least one to come back as that. My two cents? Let’s just accept that it’s noninvasive, be happy, and move on! However, that the news didn’t end there.

Because this is a hormone driven cancer/tumors, I will have to have my last ovary removed, if not a full hysterectomy, within the next 6 months or so. In a span of 30 seconds, my entire future, everything we had dreamed about, changed. Dr. Cantuaria continued to give us his thoughts and information, but I couldn’t hear a thing.Thank goodness for Patrick being there and taking notes or else I’d have no idea what was going on. One of the options he gave us was to do egg-removal and try IVF once I was healed and healthy. However, throughout pregnancy, I’d have to be put on a combination of hormones (since I wouldn’t have any ovaries), as well as hormone blockers to keep the tumors from returning. Due to this and honestly just not wanting to put my body through another extreme situation, IVF is not in our plans. I asked about trying to get pregnant naturally before the next surgery, but was told that it would be extremely dangerous if I were to get pregnant because the high hormone from pregnancy would most likely make this slow-growing cancer speed up - so that was off the table, too.

I just couldn’t believe it...I still can’t. Just when I was starting to come to terms with only having one ovary and tumors, I suddenly learn that I’ll be in medical-induced menopause at 27 years old, never able to carry our own children. When we were left alone in the exam room, all Patrick could do was hold me up while I shattered. Bless this amazing man of mine for being strong when I am at my weakest point.

It kept hitting me in waves. I’d be fine one minute and inconsolable the next. Throwing out my prenatal vitamins that night and changing them out for One-A-Day Womens was my biggest breaking point. I was (am) angry, frustrated, devastated, and about a million other things I can’t begin to put into words. I wanted to throw them against the wall, scream, shout, and curse the world for taking away something we’ve been talking about for years. Again, Patrick just came and held me until I was calm.

There are still two pregnancy tests sitting in their box in plain view in our bathroom. I don’t have the strength to throw them out.