Here goes nothing.
Up to this point I have not had anyone get medically involved in my fertility issues outside my yearly spread ‘em, scrape ‘em, squeeze ‘em. I didn’t have insurance nor was I completely sure that eight babies during law school was the best idea (wait, you mean not everyone that goes through fertility treatment gets eight babies? Bummer.)
This past Monday after a Blissful weekend I finally went in to see a doctor. I was in a jovial mood and joked about how I’d make him famous if he could get a litter into my uterus. We joked back and forth about the baby making process and about the appearance of stray body hair (Did I ever mention that I had PCOS? In addition to the occasional RUPTURE of a cyst on my ovary I had dark thick whiskers that grew from every crevice? I didn’t? Wonder why…)
When it came time for the actual exam, results and the real questions his face turned grim. I could tell he didn’t want to have to tell me what he found and what would have to be done about it.
I’m not ready to go into those details yet. With my upcoming travels through February and March it delays what needs to be done due to timing. And focusing on what I’m going to have to go through will only cause me more heartache.
But let’s just say the answer is not as easy as a prescription for Clomid accompanied by a few months of hot flashes, scheduled sex and hormonal surges of crazy.
I’m going into this hoping to find the humor in it, for some reason I though being able to get pregnant would be natural. Like hunger.
You get hungry, you eat a cheeseburger.
You want to have a baby, you make out.
I’ve had so many sweet people email me thanking me for helping them through their own fertility issues. Some send pictures of their miracle babies, others send me photos of the little kids they were blessed to have through adoption.
I know there’s still some of you out there who can’t get babies where you want or need them to be. I can’t give up and lie to you about how much I’m hurting.
Because I am.
And I cannot be ignorant to all the kindness my readers have shown me. You don’t need to read this stuff, no one makes you. The world won’t stop if you don’t read my blog. But you do. And I’m grateful for that. Grateful that you take the time to send me hugs and kisses and chocolate.
Thank you. All you faceless people and people whom I’ve had the honor of meeting. Thank you for letting me throw my little snit fit pity party.
Business as usual tomorrow? I’ll be discussing prenatal vitamins. If we can put a man on the moon and Apple can make the iPhone, why the hell can’t we make a prenatal vitamin smaller than the state of Rhode Island?
P.S. I’m leaving comments open as long AS NO ONE SAYS “I’M SORRY.”If you can’t think of anything to say besides “I’m sorry” then tell me your favorite kind of sandwich.
P.P.S. Oh, also, if I depressed you enough and you are an emotional eater HAVE I GOT THE GIVEAWAY FOR YOU! Martinis and Chocolate over at my review blog, you’re welcome.