I have no idea what it’s like to sit in this chair and feel anything but fear and devastation. The fact that the majority of women associate this with utter joy is unfathomable to me. As a result, it’s impossible for me to believe it will ever be that for me. I climb up bracing myself for what will come next.
Today the nurse asked me if I’ve ever had an internal ultrasound and I actually laughed. I told her I’ve had so many, there’s no way to count. I did, however, refrain from calling my intimate friend LaWanda (ahem) even though I really really wanted to.
The appointment was just as I expected – she found nothing new and told me all we could do was to try again. She did confirm that I had endometriosis and the cyst that has been ever-present on my left ovary will be there for life. I’m thinking I need to come up with a name for it since I’ve become so familiar with it and it’s apparently not going any where anytime soon. She said it shouldn’t be a problem pregnancy-wise for me since I can still get pregnant, but eventually I may want to remove it or go on birth control pills to suppress the symptoms of it (which for me is constant severe on-and-off pain all month). We also did more tests since the majority of mine were a year ago after the third loss, so we’ll see what they show, if anything. I’m betting everything on the latter.
I certainly didn’t expect to have so many emotions today. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling…there was just a constant stream. I know I’ve said this a thousand times, but I’m just so tired of it all. I was walking down the street after the appointment and a man was getting into his car and said to me, “You look so tired.” A stranger. Awesome. He then offered me a ride, which was a little uncomfortable, but whatever. Later a student asked if I was okay today. I thought I was faking it okay, but apparently not. Or maybe I just can’t fake it any more. Two years of faking that I’m okay for 8 or so hours a day is getting old.
Two more days of this course and then I’m going to sleep for the next two. Or maybe I just won’t wake up for a month or ten. Will you wake me when it’s all over?