Breathing

There have been months in my past where I wouldn't buy tampons, because it may jinx myself. Other months, I would buy a pregnancy test only to find the evidence that I wasn't while using the test. Month after month passed, then year after year, and we still have empty arms and wounded hearts. What are we doing wrong? Surely, we aren't doing it wrong, right?

We slowly came out to a few friends and family that we just weren't having any luck. We shared with them the cold hard facts. We were having unprotected sex with an expected outcome of pregnancy. We received all kinds of advice by well meaning friends and family, ranging from "It will happen when the time is right," "just relax," and "these things take time." While everyone was sharing their tips, and how easy it was for them stories, what we didn't share was our deepest fears, biggest desires, and where we were emotionally. It was too difficult to put out there. Later we wished we had shared this more with people. Perhaps our lives would have been different in various ways. Regardless, it stings that friends and family are working on their first, second, and third pregnancies. Perhaps if we weren't so guarded about our feelings in the first place, they would respect them more. Perhaps not, because when dealing with an infertile person, there is no handbook of what to say and what not to. Either way, pregnancy announcements, baby showers, and the like are all extremely difficult. I don't begrudge them, I don't refuse to go, because everybody else's life must go on. It's just very difficult to accept that when yours feels like it is crushing down on you, and all that is left to do is fall into a heap on the floor and sob.

Now, we are past the "perhaps we need help" stage, and are in the "what's the deal?" phase. Layer by layer we reveal what is truly a matrix of issues, and like an onion each layer comes with tears. Not only do we still have the raw emotions of repeated monthly failure, but now the fear, anxiety, and stress that comes with each new test. Largely due to the fact, that each new test reveals one more hurdle that we will have to jump. Most people can easily conquer a short sprint, but few can accomplish a marathon.

So, here we are running...running scared, running towards what we hope is a brass ring. When, the doctor said, "Ok, here's what's wrong with you..." My heart sunk and broke into a million little pieces. I truly expected to hear, "Oh, it's just a little ovulation problem. No worries." Naive. My innocence is lost.

My diagnosis, and lack there of, confuses me daily. How will this actually work for us? Sometimes I feel like a rock climber, whose missing gear. A trapeeze artist without a net. My uterus isn't the right shape. I can find women out there with my condition who successfully achieve pregnancy and even have children. I also find women who have six or seven miscarriages before they have those children. How will I find that courage? Can I beat the high odds of miscarriage and preterm labor? How will I manage IVF, when I can only transfer a single embryo? How can I be brave enough to tell people how I really feel? How can I tell them that I am so scared? How can I tell them I'm not sure how I can dig deep enough inside of myself and find the courage I need?

So, now I think back to the well meaning advice of "just relax," "these things take time," and "It will happen when the time is right." Well, relaxing is damn near impossible. Life always throws things our way that tend to complicate it. You could live on a deserted island, and you'd wonder where you are getting food. You could be a billionaire with ten children, and you'd worry if you were raising them right. There is one thing you can bank on in life, and that is stress. No way around it. You can learn to minimize it, but damn it lack of it won't change my diagnosis. These things do take time, but time doesn't make babies, perform IUIs, IVF, or perform laparoscopies. The timing couldn't be better than right now, and I don't see a stork circling my house, or the homes of my fellow infertile friends who deserve children as much as we do. So, I guess I'm just getting prescriptions I can't fill.

These days I can't plan from one day to the next. My amazing neighbor will call and ask what my plans are for the day, and sometimes all I can get out is, "I'm going to shower." Wow. Other times I feel confident, and can allow myself to venture into that place that is guarded with high walls. The place where I store my visions of my future child and all of the hopes and dreams I have for them. Perhaps one day my walls will come down, and reveal that brass ring I am so desperately searching for. No need for sympathy my fellow waiting womb warriors, just feeling the need to embrace what I'm feeling right now.

I want off the ride, please!

Surgery is cancelled for Tuesday. Can you believe that I maxed out all of my insurance benefits!? So, it will be postponed until new job and new benefits kick in. I'm expecting that to be around mid to the end of October. I'll live, but my heart just hurts.

I've never played the why me game, but today I played the "Damn it, I never asked for this crap game." The one where you curse everything you have to go through just to do what mother nature has been doing forever. My life has been turned upside down, and I just don't know what to do anymore. I guess I should try and figure that out. I've gone through all the emotions today. I wondered if I knew it was going to take all of this, would I ever have gotten married? Would it have been fare to do this to my husband? I wish having children didn't matter so much to me.

What do you do, when all you want to do is throw yourself on the ground and throw a temper tantrum? A bubble bath won't fix it, crying won't, and feeling sorry for myself won't either. I just wish I had some kind of control. Alas, I don't nor will I any time soon. So, don't mind me, I'm just not fit for public viewing today.

Ouch

I had the most delicious cup of Starbucks coffee today...ahhh....yum...pumpkin spice latte.

Back to reality, today was also confusing and hurt like hell.

Today was my saline infusion ultrasound. Which means that a speculum, a catheter, and a dildocam had a tea party inside of me. This would have been fine if one guest showed up as one was leaving, but nooooo...they all sat in there and chatted nicely. No, let me change that...they weren't chatting, they were screaming at the top of their lungs! Ouuuucccchhhh! I know that I have been told it hurts less than an HSG, but not that much less. It was still painful.

Of course, they placed what looks like those puppy pads used for house training a dog under my butt. Never a good sign. Then, there was one on the step, and on the floor. Just how much were we expecting to put in, much less come back out?! Dear Lord! Well, thankfully I had read up and knew what to expect, but boy was it a hoot for me and my mother (who dutifully held my hand the entire time,) to laugh at me with the "puppy pad" as a diaper of sorts. Fortunately, I didn't have a Niagara Falls effect. Just major cramps and a funny memory. Amen.

However, the worst part of today was the doc looking at me and saying he just wasn't sure what my anatomy looked like. So, three rendevous with the dildocam, a CT scan, two MRIs, an HSG, a pelvic ultrasound, and a saline infusion ultrasound...leads to them not having a clue whether I have a unicornuate uterus with a communicting horn or a bircornuate uterus with a noncommunicating rudimentary horn. Well, holy hell, those are two completly different animals!

So, after my date with the doc, he asked me to run and grab the slides from my MRI. Then, off we went to get them and dutifully bring them back to him. I guess I will just keep my fingers crossed that I can at least get a proper diagnosis soon.