arghhhhh… ever have one of those days? The kind where it’s better to have stayed in bed and catch Maury Povich on TV?
I had my annual OB/GYN appointment this morning. Now, you all know that I hate that place, and not because I am one of those shy girls that dreads pap smears.
It’s the place where pregnant women are in abundance. And, I am in no mood to sit in a room with a bunch of pregnant women when I am still as barren as the desert.
No sooner am I unclothed my OB, um, GYN comes in the room (Dr. D) and I begin bawling. Ok, not a full on cry, but enough to feel like an idiot with my wet eyes and runny nose. Waiting for my doctor to turn around and say, “sorry wrong exam room, there’s a highly emotional wreck in that one.”
She said, “let’s talk, you look stressed”. And we did. Most of the conversation being I just turned 39 in February and I am getting old (I’ll be 40 next year!), and I am being treated at the fertility center you referred me to but the doctor there (who really is nice) won’t give me meds until I lose another 10 pounds and I can’t, and the stress of baby sex is killing me and now my cycles are getting longer (no doubt due to stress) and I just want a vanilla cream donut and an iced latte….
for crying out loud, what the heck.
After shit dribbled out of my mouth for 5 more minutes, she said… “take a deep breath. You are not running a race, this is a life marathon and you still have time on your side. Stress won’t help you, you need to find a way to relax”.
Clearly, she has forgotten that I am 2 years into this marathon, but I appreciated the sanity check. ok- in the moment I was pissed, but I can appreciate the thoughts now.
Then she told me to call Dr. P (my fertility doc) and demand that I start meds next cycle. “He’s reasonable”, she said, and “he won’t turn you down if you simply say you’ve reached the end of your rope”.
I’ve reached the end of my rope it seems. Once I was back in the safe confines of my car I cried the whole way home. I am disappointed in my body for failing me. I am sick of trying to get pregnant and sick of having the pregnancies result in miscarriages.
I know I’ve been avoiding blogging about my fertility woes lately (if for any reason just to pretend to myself that it doesn’t matter), but dammit, this is my blog, and I need to vent. And it does matter.
Because I am not done with adding to my family. It hurts, and I feel like there is the most GIANT hole in my heart.
I thank God every day for having my sweet David and my husband in my life, but I feel like there is a family member still missing. And I just can’t come to terms with dealing with this stress.
It’s exhausting to be a hot mess.