The chair of disappointment.

25 Aug

wetsuits

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?

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9 Responses to “The chair of disappointment.”

  1. Esperanza August 25, 2011 at 9:46 pm #

    Oh BB, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say. This sucks so bad and it’s so unfair. I wish I could make things work out just how you want them too the next time around. I wish that so much.

    Thinking of you like crazy lately. I hope we can get together soon.

  2. lil' dreamer August 25, 2011 at 9:59 pm #

    So sorry you are going through a hard time. I know what you mean. I haven’t been at this too long, but that chair is always a scary place. I also understand how hard it is to work with infertility clouding your mind. I am a teacher myself and about to go back to school. In so many moments, I feel lucky my job requires me to “be on”, thus pushing everything a little further back in my mind. I can’t imagine how I would deal with everything if I had a job where I worked on a computer all day or something!

    So hoping things work out for you and you can get out from under that cloud. Here with hugs and support!

  3. Mo August 26, 2011 at 5:28 am #

    Love you. I know you’re tired and overwhelmed by all of this. Please go easy on yourself. I’m sure that once you get a few nights worth of sleep, things will be much clearer.
    xoxo

  4. Elphaba August 26, 2011 at 12:53 pm #

    Damn, this is not what I was hoping to hear. Seriously? They can’t find anything? That just seems impossible–obviously something is going on! I’m so sorry hun. I’m tired for you–I can’t imagine how you must feel.

  5. jjiraffe August 26, 2011 at 11:59 pm #

    Oh, f$&?!. I was hoping you would get a more definitive answer. I am so, so sorry. Let’s hang out soon. I found a New England restaurant with awesome lobster rolls around here (although probably not as good as what you’re used to).Let me take you there when you are ready. Many, many hugs, xo.

  6. endoandbeyond August 27, 2011 at 9:29 am #

    So sorry you’re going through such a hard time and not getting any clear answers. Stopping by to give you some support and hope you can get some sleep and feel a bit better.

  7. Port of Indecision August 28, 2011 at 6:26 pm #

    Big, big hugs. I’ve been thinking of you.

  8. slcurwin August 29, 2011 at 10:22 am #

    After the removal of my cyst, my little brother got me a card that said “sorry for the loss off your sist” with the “er” crossed out. He drew a big, hairy, toothy blob saying good-bye and everything. I’m a big fan of it being gone, hopefully you can lose your “sist” one day too. Until then, I do recommend naming it. Bertha? Lumpy? Cysty Cystopherson?

  9. Kristen August 29, 2011 at 11:35 am #

    Hugs. So sorry you are feeling so sad…

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