As much as I really do enjoy creating a fun, creative, happy environment for you all to read and for me to write, having this outlet to also let you all know the more serious issues in my life is much appreciated. <-Therefore, if you're not up for reading about our continued fertility problems, check back again tomorrow! I'll have cheered up by then.
As you all know, I first had a huge unveiling of the fact that we've been trying for [now] over two years to conceive and expand our family. Result: diagnosed with possibly endometriosis. Next, I shared that even though we do want children eventually, we're perfectly fine ignoring the expectations of others and just being us four for now. But that we also would like to see if there's something wrong so that we know what we're facing in the future.
The rest of this actually doesn't have much to do with conception or issues with it. It mostly has to do with the fact that I'm a gigantic baby and can't handle going to the doctor.
**Side note: I recently had a conversation with my mom about how tired I am of hospitals, and how I don't want to have anymore surgeries. "Ha! What surgeries have you had?! You had ear surgeries when you were five." Compelled to come back with a legit reason why I should not want anymore surgeries, or want to deal with anymore doctors, I've comprised a list of medical issues I've faced over my lifetime:
-pneumonia, multiple times, as a child
-ear surgery on both ears
-concussion [ahem, fell of a slide in 2nd grade]
-torn meniscus in knee
-almost? fractured something in baseball. Don't try to jump over a line drive. Won't work.
-Braces <-can this count?
-fractured hip immediately after basic training
-wisdom teeth removed
Take that, madre.**
In an attempt to go through with our plans, I had my ob-gyn put in a referral for a couple different tests. One was a [TMI] trans-vaginal ultrasound, which is no big deal. Uncomfortable, but not painful. The other was an HSG. Oh. My. God.
An HSG [TMI] is a procedure in which they insert a catheter with a balloon at the end into your uterus. They then inflate the balloon, causing your uterus to spread out, or something. The whole point is that they shoot dye through the catheter to ensure tubes are still open. Something. I don't know. I wasn't paying any attention at all. Instead, I was focused on that little balloon [think the tip of a pen] in my uterus. Since the uterus is a muscle, forcing it into an unnatural position encourages it to contract, causing menstrual like cramping in your abdomen. Number of women who don't feel anything? Very few. Number of women who describe it as bad period cramps? Majority. Number of women who are in so much pain, they have to stop the procedure? Hardly any. Hardly any = me.
I cried. A lot. Poor doctor just stood there patting my shoulder, trying to make me feel better. I was mortified. But, since there aren't any other tests to get the results, I either had to suck it up and do it again, come back another day and do it again, or just not get those results. I sucked it up. It happened again, and I still cried, but managed to make it through.
I wobble my way out to the hubby, and beg him to take me home. Hours later [or so it felt] we reached the vehicle...I collapsed inside...and started crying hysterically all over again. The pain. The frustration. The fact that no woman in the entire world should have to deal with something like this. The fact that I can't complete a very natural biological chain of events. It all just hit me, bewildering my husband, and not helping my poor uterus at all.
I'm fine now, but I'll never have an HSG done again. It was a horribly horrible day, a break down that I haven't had the likes of in quite some time. I like to think I needed it, but in reality, it was that ugly "you're not good enough to be a mom" monster raising up inside of me.
For those of you who may have to have one done in the future - ignore all of the above. I'm the minority here, the one who almost passed out getting her nose pierced, the one whose skin is constantly hurting from a multitude of bruises and scrapes. It won't happen to you.
Would anyone like to share their bad day with me? To make me feel less like such a grump and negative person?