I used to love fall back. I got to sleep late. And it got dark earlier and it felt all cozy and autumnal. And it was lighter earlier in the morning making it easier to wake up and get to work.
Now I'm a parent. Let me state the obvious - I did NOT get to sleep in. And getting darker earlier means less time outside and more time inside entertaining an active, easily bored almost three year old. And lighter earlier means up earlier and less sleep. At least until we all get used to losing that very important hour.
Me too tired to write more.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Day 3 - We have a date....
....for my hysterectomy. Woo hoo!
Let's do this by the numbers. Maybe that will help me focus and be able to finish this post before Finn wakes up from his nap.
18: the date in December that I will have my uterus removed
5000: dollars, that is. That's my medical insurance out-of-pocket max for the year which I have already reached. If the surgery had not been scheduled in 2012, I would have had to shell out another $5000 for the hysterectomy. But my doctor, who is fucking awesome, agreed to do the surgery on the 18th even though she originally told me that December 17th was her absolute last day of availability for the year.
2: the number of doctors who will perform the surgery. One is my regular OB. She did my hysteroscopy in May. When the topic of MORE surgery came up, I asked her about a second opinion and someone who is more of a specialist. She referred me to a urogynecologist. The two of them are going to do robotic laparoscopic surgery on me.
6: the number of weeks that it will take for me to fully recover. My doctor doesn't want me to do any heavy lifting during this time. Gah. Does picking up an almost three year old count?
6: this is also the number of weeks I have to train my son to sleep in a big boy bed and to get in and out of the car by himself. I am NOT forcing the potty training thing. I figure if it happens, it happens. And if it doesn't, I'll change him on his new bed (that we need to buy). We can potty train him after I heal.
137: the number of doctors who have seen my vagina. Okay, I made this number up. But between infertility and all the problems I've had in the last 3 years, it feels like a conservative estimate. I really hope that after this procedure I can go back to being more normal - one doctor, once a year gets to see my hoohaw and that's it. Its kinda funny though. I've become totally desensitized to it. I'll go see a new doctor or ultrasound tech and they'll be so kind and careful and I'm ripping off my tearaway sweats and putting my legs up in the stirrups, saying "Alrighty, let's go doc."
4 or 5: the number of months pregnant I currently look. And I am obviously NOT pregnant or I'm pretty sure they would not perform a hysterectomy on me next month. But man am I bloated and in pain again. This is the worst I've felt in over a year. Maybe my body or the Universe is trying to tell me - "Do it! Have the surgery! You've tried so many other things that haven't worked! Now its time to try this." PLEASE let this hysterectomy help me feel better.
Alright, that's all I have time for. There's more to write and more to process another day. For example, how I feel about absolutely never being able to get pregnant again. I already pretty much knew this, but this sure makes it FOR SURE. And I would imagine that when I'm laying around feeling like shit, it will be really easy to feel very sad about it. Or how I'm pretty terrified of having surgery again. What if something bad happens? What if it doesn't work? What if it makes things worse?
But maybe it will help me feel better.
Let's do this by the numbers. Maybe that will help me focus and be able to finish this post before Finn wakes up from his nap.
18: the date in December that I will have my uterus removed
5000: dollars, that is. That's my medical insurance out-of-pocket max for the year which I have already reached. If the surgery had not been scheduled in 2012, I would have had to shell out another $5000 for the hysterectomy. But my doctor, who is fucking awesome, agreed to do the surgery on the 18th even though she originally told me that December 17th was her absolute last day of availability for the year.
2: the number of doctors who will perform the surgery. One is my regular OB. She did my hysteroscopy in May. When the topic of MORE surgery came up, I asked her about a second opinion and someone who is more of a specialist. She referred me to a urogynecologist. The two of them are going to do robotic laparoscopic surgery on me.
6: the number of weeks that it will take for me to fully recover. My doctor doesn't want me to do any heavy lifting during this time. Gah. Does picking up an almost three year old count?
6: this is also the number of weeks I have to train my son to sleep in a big boy bed and to get in and out of the car by himself. I am NOT forcing the potty training thing. I figure if it happens, it happens. And if it doesn't, I'll change him on his new bed (that we need to buy). We can potty train him after I heal.
137: the number of doctors who have seen my vagina. Okay, I made this number up. But between infertility and all the problems I've had in the last 3 years, it feels like a conservative estimate. I really hope that after this procedure I can go back to being more normal - one doctor, once a year gets to see my hoohaw and that's it. Its kinda funny though. I've become totally desensitized to it. I'll go see a new doctor or ultrasound tech and they'll be so kind and careful and I'm ripping off my tearaway sweats and putting my legs up in the stirrups, saying "Alrighty, let's go doc."
4 or 5: the number of months pregnant I currently look. And I am obviously NOT pregnant or I'm pretty sure they would not perform a hysterectomy on me next month. But man am I bloated and in pain again. This is the worst I've felt in over a year. Maybe my body or the Universe is trying to tell me - "Do it! Have the surgery! You've tried so many other things that haven't worked! Now its time to try this." PLEASE let this hysterectomy help me feel better.
Alright, that's all I have time for. There's more to write and more to process another day. For example, how I feel about absolutely never being able to get pregnant again. I already pretty much knew this, but this sure makes it FOR SURE. And I would imagine that when I'm laying around feeling like shit, it will be really easy to feel very sad about it. Or how I'm pretty terrified of having surgery again. What if something bad happens? What if it doesn't work? What if it makes things worse?
But maybe it will help me feel better.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Day Two and I'm still Writing!
I don't have much time, but I'm determined to write so I'm going with the prompt of the day:
"If you could live anywhere, where would it be?"
I like this prompt and its actually relevant to me because we short saled our house this year and are currently living in a rental. Not that there's anything wrong with renting, but the circumstances under which we find ourselves here are less than satisfactory. And while I really like the house we are renting and I enjoy the neighborhood so far, this is not where we want to live forever.
So I have three answers.
#1 Where I ACTUALLY want to live (and can afford buy) when our credit recovers and we can buy again: Benicia. Or Martinez. But the hubs says no to Benicia - he doesn't want to cross two bridges to get to work,which I totally understand. So it will probably (hopefully) be Martinez. Its a nice little town.
#2 Where I would live in my real life, if we had tons of money: Probably still Martinez. Just in a nicer, bigger house with land. Or maybe Lafayette or Orinda. If we had lots of money I would definitely want a house with a little bit of land for a huge garden and some chickens.
#3 My fantasy/dream answer: Somewhere in Europe. Probably in France. I'd have a house in the Provincial countryside and an apartment in Paris. And eat good food and drink wine and see beautiful buildings and art all the time and be just a train ride away from so many amazing places.
I pray that #1 comes to pass. If win the lottery, it'll be #2. If I win some crazy multi-state, biggest jackpot in history lottery, I'll add on #3.
"If you could live anywhere, where would it be?"
I like this prompt and its actually relevant to me because we short saled our house this year and are currently living in a rental. Not that there's anything wrong with renting, but the circumstances under which we find ourselves here are less than satisfactory. And while I really like the house we are renting and I enjoy the neighborhood so far, this is not where we want to live forever.
So I have three answers.
#1 Where I ACTUALLY want to live (and can afford buy) when our credit recovers and we can buy again: Benicia. Or Martinez. But the hubs says no to Benicia - he doesn't want to cross two bridges to get to work,which I totally understand. So it will probably (hopefully) be Martinez. Its a nice little town.
#2 Where I would live in my real life, if we had tons of money: Probably still Martinez. Just in a nicer, bigger house with land. Or maybe Lafayette or Orinda. If we had lots of money I would definitely want a house with a little bit of land for a huge garden and some chickens.
#3 My fantasy/dream answer: Somewhere in Europe. Probably in France. I'd have a house in the Provincial countryside and an apartment in Paris. And eat good food and drink wine and see beautiful buildings and art all the time and be just a train ride away from so many amazing places.
I pray that #1 comes to pass. If win the lottery, it'll be #2. If I win some crazy multi-state, biggest jackpot in history lottery, I'll add on #3.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
#1261
I have a lot going on. 2012 has been quite a year. Wonderful and difficult, exciting and sad. Of course, one would never know this by reading my blog. Since I don't actually WRITE any posts. I mean, I think about blogging and writing all the time. I have things I want to remember. I have things I need to get off my chest. I feel I should do something to keep my poor, tired, "stay-at-home mom" brain in better shape. But my last blog post was in August. Gah.
I need to get in the habit of writing and processing and figuring shit out that needs to be figured out. I need to stop watching 2 or 3 hours of TV every night after I put my son to bed. I need to stop falling asleep watching the news (and by news, I mean Real Housewives of New Jersey). Blogging, reading, unpacking those last pesky 10 or 12 boxes, learning to knit again - these are things I should do.
Since organizing my closet and knitting seem totally unlikely, I signed up for NaBloPoMo. I'm number 1261 on the blogroll. I like my number - I've got a good feeling about this. Thank God Melissa provides a list of prompts or I'd be in trouble. Although I can't think of a good quote for the life of me, so I'm just writing about how I never write but really want to. Fascinating stuff. But its a start.
Hmmm, well, that's all I've got for today. My husband is actually home early tonight so we're gonna catch up on The Amazing Race. And I don't feel bad about watching TV after writing that I should watch less TV.
I need to get in the habit of writing and processing and figuring shit out that needs to be figured out. I need to stop watching 2 or 3 hours of TV every night after I put my son to bed. I need to stop falling asleep watching the news (and by news, I mean Real Housewives of New Jersey). Blogging, reading, unpacking those last pesky 10 or 12 boxes, learning to knit again - these are things I should do.
Since organizing my closet and knitting seem totally unlikely, I signed up for NaBloPoMo. I'm number 1261 on the blogroll. I like my number - I've got a good feeling about this. Thank God Melissa provides a list of prompts or I'd be in trouble. Although I can't think of a good quote for the life of me, so I'm just writing about how I never write but really want to. Fascinating stuff. But its a start.
Hmmm, well, that's all I've got for today. My husband is actually home early tonight so we're gonna catch up on The Amazing Race. And I don't feel bad about watching TV after writing that I should watch less TV.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Not sure
Its taken me a while to sit down and start to write this. Sometimes I don't write because I feel fine and I don't NEED to write. Lots of times I have things I COULD write about, but after a long day with my little guy, tivo and the couch win me over. I think I have not written about this yet because, when I 'm really honest with myself, I am having a VERY hard time processing this. I haven't been sure what to even write. I'm not sure exactly HOW I feel about this or WHY I feel the things I do. But I decided that my feelings don't need to be summed up neatly in one post. I'll just start writing and see if it helps me.
I will not ever get pregnant again.
I didn't say "CAN'T" ever get pregnant again, because there is actually some incredibly small chance that I could get pregnant. I say "WILL NOT" because my doctor told me that if I (miraculously) did get pregnant again, she would be very concerned about my health. I am at high risk of very serious complications. The kind you die from. Oh and I probably would never even get pregnant again anyway - assisted or otherwise. So, yeah....I will not ever get pregnant again.
My hysteroscopy was at the beginning of May. I could have written a whole post about that experience but I think I was in a state of depression for a few days afterwards and just laid in bed recovering - also known as eating gluten free cookies and watching "The West Wing" dvds. I'll just cut to the chase - the scarring inside my uterus was the worst my doctor has ever seen. Which, after thinking about for a week or so, prompted me to ask her - how many of these has she done? Am I the worst out 5? Or 500? She never gave the me the exact number, but she's said she's done more than 5. But, she had a technician with her in surgery who came with one of the machines or tools or whatever she used on me and this person has been in on hundreds of these surgeries all over the Bay Area. She said this was the SECOND worst she's ever seen.
Both my doctor and the internets tell me that women with severe intrauterine scarring have a small chance of actually getting pregnant again (need I mention that I already had a small chance of getting pregnant agin?). And those that get pregnant are at high risk for complications - miscarriage, placenta previa, preeclampsia, and on and on and on.
Awesome. And by awesome, I mean fuckity fuck fuck.
The practical, realistic side of me feels pretty okay about this. It is what it is right? And there are things about it that are actually positive. I mean, let's break it down:
1. I'm 39. I had trouble getting pregnant before. I've got old ass eggs. The only thing I had going for me before was my uterus. And now that's all fucked up.
2. For over a year after having my son, I was convinced that I did not even WANT to get pregnant again and felt okay about it. Then when I decided that what was holding me back from trying was fear, I faced it down and went for it. We tried. Well, we started to try. And we got some seriously bad news. I was afraid of something bad happening and it did. And I'm sad. But I'm going to be okay. And I'm proud of myself for facing my fears.
3. I do not have to inject myself with hormones and have people poke and prod me and stick stuff up my vagina.
4. The bad news came before we spent half our savings.
5. We have a definitive answer. We cannot try to get pregnant. Its over and done. It sucks. But at least now we know. We can deal with it and move on.
6. I am blessed with a beautiful and healthy son. He makes me happy every single day. I experienced pregnancy. I gave birth. I am SO blessed.
Those are the things the rational Leah tells herself. And those are the things I focused on and said out loud to my family and friends in the first couple weeks after the surgery. And its all true.
But there is a part of me that is having a very hard time coming to terms with this. There is a part of me that feels a very deep sadness. With a little pissed off thrown in there too. Here's what the other side of Leah thinks:
1. Seriously? Anencephaly, miscarriage, fertility treatments, c-section, chronic pain and digestive issues and now this? I guess, it just doesn't get to be easy. And it wasn't even going to EASY. It was going to be expensive and hard and uncomfortable and scary. But we don't even get to do that. Well, that's fucking bullshit.
2. I wanted to be pregnant again. I. want. to. be. pregnant. again. Its not just that I want another baby. I believe I could still have another baby. But I feel like I want a do-over on the pregnancy thing. Well, not a do-OVER, but a do-BETTER. I want to not be terrified all the time. I want to enjoy more moments. I want to go in for my c-section with my toes done, my makeup on, feeling well-rested and ready to have an uneventful and calm surgery. I realize all this is irrational. But its how I feel. So many women get to have wonderful pregnancies and beautiful births. Why can't I?
3. Its weird that its over. We've been on the whole "trying to get pregnant" journey for 6 years. And now we're done. 6 years is a long time. Change can be hard. This is a big change.
I will not ever get pregnant again.
I didn't say "CAN'T" ever get pregnant again, because there is actually some incredibly small chance that I could get pregnant. I say "WILL NOT" because my doctor told me that if I (miraculously) did get pregnant again, she would be very concerned about my health. I am at high risk of very serious complications. The kind you die from. Oh and I probably would never even get pregnant again anyway - assisted or otherwise. So, yeah....I will not ever get pregnant again.
My hysteroscopy was at the beginning of May. I could have written a whole post about that experience but I think I was in a state of depression for a few days afterwards and just laid in bed recovering - also known as eating gluten free cookies and watching "The West Wing" dvds. I'll just cut to the chase - the scarring inside my uterus was the worst my doctor has ever seen. Which, after thinking about for a week or so, prompted me to ask her - how many of these has she done? Am I the worst out 5? Or 500? She never gave the me the exact number, but she's said she's done more than 5. But, she had a technician with her in surgery who came with one of the machines or tools or whatever she used on me and this person has been in on hundreds of these surgeries all over the Bay Area. She said this was the SECOND worst she's ever seen.
Both my doctor and the internets tell me that women with severe intrauterine scarring have a small chance of actually getting pregnant again (need I mention that I already had a small chance of getting pregnant agin?). And those that get pregnant are at high risk for complications - miscarriage, placenta previa, preeclampsia, and on and on and on.
Awesome. And by awesome, I mean fuckity fuck fuck.
The practical, realistic side of me feels pretty okay about this. It is what it is right? And there are things about it that are actually positive. I mean, let's break it down:
1. I'm 39. I had trouble getting pregnant before. I've got old ass eggs. The only thing I had going for me before was my uterus. And now that's all fucked up.
2. For over a year after having my son, I was convinced that I did not even WANT to get pregnant again and felt okay about it. Then when I decided that what was holding me back from trying was fear, I faced it down and went for it. We tried. Well, we started to try. And we got some seriously bad news. I was afraid of something bad happening and it did. And I'm sad. But I'm going to be okay. And I'm proud of myself for facing my fears.
3. I do not have to inject myself with hormones and have people poke and prod me and stick stuff up my vagina.
4. The bad news came before we spent half our savings.
5. We have a definitive answer. We cannot try to get pregnant. Its over and done. It sucks. But at least now we know. We can deal with it and move on.
6. I am blessed with a beautiful and healthy son. He makes me happy every single day. I experienced pregnancy. I gave birth. I am SO blessed.
Those are the things the rational Leah tells herself. And those are the things I focused on and said out loud to my family and friends in the first couple weeks after the surgery. And its all true.
But there is a part of me that is having a very hard time coming to terms with this. There is a part of me that feels a very deep sadness. With a little pissed off thrown in there too. Here's what the other side of Leah thinks:
1. Seriously? Anencephaly, miscarriage, fertility treatments, c-section, chronic pain and digestive issues and now this? I guess, it just doesn't get to be easy. And it wasn't even going to EASY. It was going to be expensive and hard and uncomfortable and scary. But we don't even get to do that. Well, that's fucking bullshit.
2. I wanted to be pregnant again. I. want. to. be. pregnant. again. Its not just that I want another baby. I believe I could still have another baby. But I feel like I want a do-over on the pregnancy thing. Well, not a do-OVER, but a do-BETTER. I want to not be terrified all the time. I want to enjoy more moments. I want to go in for my c-section with my toes done, my makeup on, feeling well-rested and ready to have an uneventful and calm surgery. I realize all this is irrational. But its how I feel. So many women get to have wonderful pregnancies and beautiful births. Why can't I?
3. Its weird that its over. We've been on the whole "trying to get pregnant" journey for 6 years. And now we're done. 6 years is a long time. Change can be hard. This is a big change.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Moving Day
Today is moving day and I am feeling a little blue. Relieved, excited, only mildly stressed and blue. Actually, I'm a jumbled mess of emotions about this whole thing but I don't have much time before its time to make a pot of coffee and madly finish packing before the guys get here to load the truck so....I'll focus on one set of emotions related to leaving this house.
This is the house where I was pregnant with my baby. Not Finn. My other baby. This is the house where we felt joy and excitement over the positive pregnancy test and painted little blocks of color on the wall and talked about names and talked about names. And its also the house we came home to after receiving the worst news of our lives. Where we sat on the couch and didn't know what to do next. Couldn't believe it was happening. Didn't know how to move onto what would be the "after." This is where we cried and cried and cried. Where friends brought us food and flowers and our beautiful tree. This is where we fell to the depths and struggled to get out. This is where I changed.
We don't have much. No pictures, no grave. We have our tree (which is coming with us) and the memories, most of which were in this house. And I feel sad to leave. I know I have her in in my heart. And the memories are painfully burned in my memory. And maybe it sounds weird, but I feel like this was her house too. She is everywhere here. And I feel like I'm losing a little of her by leaving this place.
This is the house where I was pregnant with my baby. Not Finn. My other baby. This is the house where we felt joy and excitement over the positive pregnancy test and painted little blocks of color on the wall and talked about names and talked about names. And its also the house we came home to after receiving the worst news of our lives. Where we sat on the couch and didn't know what to do next. Couldn't believe it was happening. Didn't know how to move onto what would be the "after." This is where we cried and cried and cried. Where friends brought us food and flowers and our beautiful tree. This is where we fell to the depths and struggled to get out. This is where I changed.
We don't have much. No pictures, no grave. We have our tree (which is coming with us) and the memories, most of which were in this house. And I feel sad to leave. I know I have her in in my heart. And the memories are painfully burned in my memory. And maybe it sounds weird, but I feel like this was her house too. She is everywhere here. And I feel like I'm losing a little of her by leaving this place.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
The Facebook posts in my head
When something funny or awkward or shitty happens, I sometimes compose a Facebook post about it in my head. "Just got finished with vagina-therapy with a hilarious and very unattractive woman named Zelda." (when I was doing physical therapy FOR MY VAGINA) "Couldn't leave the house this morning because I was afraid I would poop my pants." (when my IBS symptoms were particularly bad) "Husband broke the toilet last night - its a bad flu." (I think this one needs no explanation)
Today's Facebook post in my head is "Just backed into a pole and crushed my tail light. Fuck. Oh and the inside of my uterus is stuck together and we're going to lose our house."
The thing is, I haven't been feeling very upset about my uterus or the house. But the broken tail light seems to have put me over the edge. I feel a little dumb for backing into a pole. But mostly I feel crazy because, after I parked, I got out and checked the back of my car and was amazed to see that there was no damage. I even checked AGAIN when I got back in my car after my haircut because I couldn't believe that there was no damage. Then tonight my husband come in the bathroom while I'm giving Finn a bath and asks me if I backed into something. And I say "Uhhhh yeah." And what I'm thinking is "The only way he could know that is because he saw that something is wrong with my car. How the fuck did I miss that?!" So I go check it out and see that my tail light is mashed. Not sure how I could have missed that TWICE. Gah.
Now on to my uterus: I had a saline sonogram two weeks ago. Its part of the required pre-testing at our fertility clinic. I've had one before. So I went in not feeling stressed AT ALL. I knew what to expect from the procedure and I was almost certain that the test would show my uterus is fine (its my old ass eggs that are the problem). I was just feeling irritated that I had to spend $800 to find out that everything was fine. Well, shit. Turns out everything is not fine.
It started off quite well actually. She told me my cervical mucus looked great, I had an egg getting ready to ovulate on the right side, and the lining was "three stripes" which apparently is good for implantation. After she tells me all this good news, I actually started thinking that I would probably get pregnant this month the old-fashioned way (yeah, um no). Then she puts the saline in and starts taking a bunch of ultrasound pictures. She puts more saline in and takes a bunch more. After she's done, she says I can sit up and asks me if I had been paying attention. Which I guess is what you ask someone when you are about to tell them bad news? Was I supposed to stop her and say, you don't need to explain. I was watching carefully and I know EXACTLY what's going on. Anyway, she tells me that it appears that I have significant adhesions inside my uterus. I'm like, INSIDE? I didn't even know you could get them inside. Several doctors have told me they are almost certain that I have significant adhesions outside of my uterus - my OB thinks my uterus is stuck to my bladder. And I have had pain and IBS issues since the C-section. So, regardless of how confident I felt prior to the test, I guess I am not really THAT surprised.
So now what? I need to have a hysteroscopy. I went in to see my OB/GYN last week to consult her about it. I want her to do it so that its covered by insurance. Its scheduled for next Friday. Best case scenario: She goes in, cuts the adhesions, bing bang boom, we pursue treatment in a month or two. Worst case scenario: I'm paraphrasing here, but I think its possible that the doctor who did my c-section sewed my uterus together. I forget exactly how my doctor worded it. She said the ultrasound image was strange. She said that usually the adhesions look thin and wispy but that, in my case, there appears the be a thick band across the middle. Awesome. She said that she doesn't know what happened during the c-section because she wasn't there. She just needs to "get in there and see what she can see."
I have joked many times over the last two years of recovery and pain and IBS that I got the "Christmas Night C-section." And I have worked very hard at figuring out on my own how to feel better and accept that I didn't heal easily and deal with the fact that I still have about a week a month of pain and IBS troubles and just be grateful that I have Finn and that he is healthy. But if that fucking doctor sewed my uterus together, I'm going to be pissed.
Inhale. Exhale.
And I'm pretty nervous about the surgery. I mean, I guess its not really that big of a deal. Its outpatient. They don't have to cut into me - they use existing holes....But my poor little tipped (and now scarred) uterus has been through so much! A D&E, a D&C, a c-section. I mean, enough already. The idea of cutting in there gives me the willies. It just makes me feel uncomfortable. Surgery is what CAUSED these problems and now I'm having more surgery.
But what really scares me is the worst case scenario. What if things are REALLY fucked up in there? What if she tells me that I can't get pregnant. Not, you PROBABLY won't get pregnant. Or its UNLIKELY you will get pregnant. But you CANNOT get pregnant.
I know that worrying about it now does me no good. We'll know more in a week in a half. And thank God I have a wonderful two year old distraction to make the time fly (and I am SO grateful for that amazing little distraction). But here is where I vent and worry and get stuff off my chest. So I did. Now I have a Grey's Anatomy calling my name....
Today's Facebook post in my head is "Just backed into a pole and crushed my tail light. Fuck. Oh and the inside of my uterus is stuck together and we're going to lose our house."
The thing is, I haven't been feeling very upset about my uterus or the house. But the broken tail light seems to have put me over the edge. I feel a little dumb for backing into a pole. But mostly I feel crazy because, after I parked, I got out and checked the back of my car and was amazed to see that there was no damage. I even checked AGAIN when I got back in my car after my haircut because I couldn't believe that there was no damage. Then tonight my husband come in the bathroom while I'm giving Finn a bath and asks me if I backed into something. And I say "Uhhhh yeah." And what I'm thinking is "The only way he could know that is because he saw that something is wrong with my car. How the fuck did I miss that?!" So I go check it out and see that my tail light is mashed. Not sure how I could have missed that TWICE. Gah.
Now on to my uterus: I had a saline sonogram two weeks ago. Its part of the required pre-testing at our fertility clinic. I've had one before. So I went in not feeling stressed AT ALL. I knew what to expect from the procedure and I was almost certain that the test would show my uterus is fine (its my old ass eggs that are the problem). I was just feeling irritated that I had to spend $800 to find out that everything was fine. Well, shit. Turns out everything is not fine.
It started off quite well actually. She told me my cervical mucus looked great, I had an egg getting ready to ovulate on the right side, and the lining was "three stripes" which apparently is good for implantation. After she tells me all this good news, I actually started thinking that I would probably get pregnant this month the old-fashioned way (yeah, um no). Then she puts the saline in and starts taking a bunch of ultrasound pictures. She puts more saline in and takes a bunch more. After she's done, she says I can sit up and asks me if I had been paying attention. Which I guess is what you ask someone when you are about to tell them bad news? Was I supposed to stop her and say, you don't need to explain. I was watching carefully and I know EXACTLY what's going on. Anyway, she tells me that it appears that I have significant adhesions inside my uterus. I'm like, INSIDE? I didn't even know you could get them inside. Several doctors have told me they are almost certain that I have significant adhesions outside of my uterus - my OB thinks my uterus is stuck to my bladder. And I have had pain and IBS issues since the C-section. So, regardless of how confident I felt prior to the test, I guess I am not really THAT surprised.
So now what? I need to have a hysteroscopy. I went in to see my OB/GYN last week to consult her about it. I want her to do it so that its covered by insurance. Its scheduled for next Friday. Best case scenario: She goes in, cuts the adhesions, bing bang boom, we pursue treatment in a month or two. Worst case scenario: I'm paraphrasing here, but I think its possible that the doctor who did my c-section sewed my uterus together. I forget exactly how my doctor worded it. She said the ultrasound image was strange. She said that usually the adhesions look thin and wispy but that, in my case, there appears the be a thick band across the middle. Awesome. She said that she doesn't know what happened during the c-section because she wasn't there. She just needs to "get in there and see what she can see."
I have joked many times over the last two years of recovery and pain and IBS that I got the "Christmas Night C-section." And I have worked very hard at figuring out on my own how to feel better and accept that I didn't heal easily and deal with the fact that I still have about a week a month of pain and IBS troubles and just be grateful that I have Finn and that he is healthy. But if that fucking doctor sewed my uterus together, I'm going to be pissed.
Inhale. Exhale.
And I'm pretty nervous about the surgery. I mean, I guess its not really that big of a deal. Its outpatient. They don't have to cut into me - they use existing holes....But my poor little tipped (and now scarred) uterus has been through so much! A D&E, a D&C, a c-section. I mean, enough already. The idea of cutting in there gives me the willies. It just makes me feel uncomfortable. Surgery is what CAUSED these problems and now I'm having more surgery.
But what really scares me is the worst case scenario. What if things are REALLY fucked up in there? What if she tells me that I can't get pregnant. Not, you PROBABLY won't get pregnant. Or its UNLIKELY you will get pregnant. But you CANNOT get pregnant.
I know that worrying about it now does me no good. We'll know more in a week in a half. And thank God I have a wonderful two year old distraction to make the time fly (and I am SO grateful for that amazing little distraction). But here is where I vent and worry and get stuff off my chest. So I did. Now I have a Grey's Anatomy calling my name....
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