Friday, February 22, 2013
I had an HSG on Monday. It's a test where a scanning type of ink is injected into the cervix and uterus and flows up the tubes and then pours out into the ovaries. The purpose is to look for blockages. Naturally (because I never learn from my mistakes) I Googled my way into a major panic attack the night before the procedure, triggering a fibromyalgia flare up that had me nauseous and shaking on the ride to and from the actual appointment.
The procedure itself was mildly uncomfortable, but no where near as painful as the endometrial biopsy was. In the end, the test took less than fifteen minutes from getting naked to putting my clothes back on, and my lady bits looked clean. The doctor then told me that because of the HSG, my chances of pregnancy actual go up for the next six months (of course depending on everything else). And while that news was exciting, it also scared the hell out of me.
I've spent the last nine years waiting, hoping, trying, and praying to get pregnant but because I've struggled with infertility all these years, those hopes fall somewhere along the similar lines of "I hope we win the lottery". But now . . . it's real. Almost too real. And suddenly I'm feeling immensely inadequate. I'm torn between trying to enjoy this potential last year of free time and sleep, and yet realizing that I should be more productive with my free time. Torn between celebrating the potential and being concerned for the what ifs. The happiness and concern balance out all inside my crazy OCD head, and the thoughts are unorganized and unfocused.
And I realize that this potential future family that I have now, is changing everything about me.
Physically my new hormones are trying to balance themselves out, which is making my moods swing rapidly, my energy fluctuate constantly and my emotions are an onslaught of randomness.
Emotionally and mentally I feel strangely drained by the energy I'm spending trying to be productive while still appreciating the little things. I'm also having strange moments where my priorities are changing. I feel less concerned about my weight and more concerned about my body image. I'm feeling a push in a direction where I don't ever want to look in the mirror and frown again, regardless of my shape. Thoughts of having children who might dwell on their own images are forcing me to look at the way I see myself, and I'm not satisfied with the reactions.
Spiritually I'm changing too. I'm more tolerant and observant of the things I believe. My faith is increasing dramatically, but in a strangely unique and genuine way. Whereas in the past I have had a desire for faith and pushed myself to build it, I now feel like I'm growing down a path I didn't see before, one of change and possibilities and an understanding that I don't need to be one way or the other, black or white. I can be grey, and grey can be exactly what I need.
I have no doubt that I will be a good mother and that Matt will make the most amazing Dad. We will have wonderful moments ahead, and we will have great successes, and massive moments of failures. And I'm accepting of it all. I'm accepting of the fact that sleepless nights and hormonal heights will have me trying to remember days like this, when all I wanted were those sleepless nights. I'm accepting of the ups and the downs.
I still don't know what the road ahead will bring.
It leaves me in a moment of unpleasant stillness. Where I'm too excited about the future to keep enjoying the present, but also too concerned about said future to think clearly enough to prepare. And so I sit here; strangely stuck in place waiting for something to come along and move me through this thick fog of the unknown.
I have one more set of blood work to do before I meet back with my doctor and go over the results of all the tests. For all I know she could very well tell me that the path ahead will be rocky, difficult or damn near impossible. But she could also have good news for me, and perhaps in a year or so I'll have that baby I've been wanting all these years.
The possibilities are endless.
I'm both excited and terrified at the realness of it all.