I walked into my RE’s office this morning thinking we would finally get the ok to start trying again. I actually felt a little excited. Six long months since our last miscarriage, and six long weeks since my uterine resection. My RE wanted to do an ultrasound to see how my uterus was healing.
She told me we shouldn’t try this month and we needed to wait.
And then I remembered that ultrasounds only bring me bad news.
Apparently, all the hormones I was taking to help expedite the healing process had left my cycle a little wonky. And she found a small cyst on my left ovary. She thought it would be better if I had one more “natural” cycle and then take a look again. Hopefully the cyst would be gone by then, and my uterus would be clean and ready.
I had been conflicted about starting to try this month anyway, and on one hand it was relieving to have my RE make the decision for me. I knew it would be better to give both my husband and me another month to heal from our surgeries. We would be that much stronger. I also realized that if we got pregnant this month it would coincide perfectly with our first pregnancy one year ago. We conceived Memorial Day weekend. Found out we were pregnant a few weeks later on our one year wedding anniversary. And then we miscarried in early July, on the exact day my brother’s baby is due this year.
I couldn’t help but feel I wanted to shake off those tainted dates, and have our next pregnancy claim its own fresh timeline.
But despite that, my appointment today left me completely deflated. Ultrasounds make me sad, that cursed, grey screen a constant messenger of bad news. On those screens I’ve seen a tiny embryo, its lagging measurement a harbinger of its inevitable death. I’ve seen an empty gestational sac, and then another empty gestational sac a few weeks later. I’ve seen that I have a malformed uterus, and learned I was unlikely to carry a pregnancy to term without surgery. And now, once again, I’ve seen an empty uterus, still not properly prepped for pregnancy. I realized that the ultrasound screen is a trigger for me, and after not hearing exactly what I wanted to hear today, it took me back to grieving all the bad news that its heartless monitor has ever shown me.
I laid in the room today staring at the screen wondering how I would ever face it once I got pregnant again.
And now another month of waiting. Throughout the process of getting tested and the procedures we’ve needed, I’ve felt like pregnancy was slipping further and further from my grip. Every test required time, every procedure required prepping and healing. It took us six weeks to even schedule my husband’s varicocele repair, which on top of the 3 – 6 months of healing time afterwards added to a feeling of utter despair. Every time I hear we need to wait even longer I feel completely, and utterly helpless.
I have no control. Even after all this, it is still just so hard to accept.