Monday, July 15, 2013

Progress on Some Fronts

You know how I want to spend my Saturday morning? At the RE clinic, waiting for my date with a well-lubed ultrasound wand. After we go straight to the good stuff, I think I'll teeter on over to the lab to get rid of some of the excess blood I've had of late. Sunday morning I get an even better treat: a sonohystogram, also known as a saline ultrasound. Dr. M is going to inflate my lady parts like a balloon, fill them with saline, and take a look-see. You can go to your mimosa brunches and yoga classes; me and my vag are busy. Super busy. We have no time for that shit.

Am I complaining? Yes. Clearly. But do I also enjoy this? Yes. Clearly. I enjoy both complaining and actively working towards getting knocked up. I am finally doing something other than bleeding, waiting, and watching other people's pregnancies fester in their glowy wholesome bodies. My body, while riddled with foreign toxins and hormones, is hella wholesome and very ready for this show to get on the road. I am equal parts excited and terrified. This is how it happens for me. My countless blood draws and ultrasounds are how I get pregnant, kind of like a very long and protracted, well-timed sexual encounter for normal folk. I'm not sure what I'm more afraid of: not getting pregnant or getting pregnant and then miscarrying again. Ok, I decided. It's the latter. But both suck.

Today is my grandma's 90th birthday party. Nothing crazy, just a family get together. Nana would not allow a big bash or really anything more extravagant than a backyard BBQ. The pregnants will be there - cousin and sister - both showing by now. I haven't see my cousin at all since the announcement. Last time I saw Juice she was just barely showing (and not showing at all by a stranger's standards). I'm not looking forward. I know, time has passed and time heals all wounds, blah blah blah. The thing is, I'm just not healed yet. I'm ready to move on with my own stuff but honestly the thought of spending an afternoon with them and the guaranteed baby talk kinda makes me want to step in front of a bus. Not to be dramatic or anything. I find it odd; I thought that my relationship to my sister and pregnant women of the world would heal in direct proportion to my feelings about my miscarriage, my body, etc. Instead, I find myself feeling very positive about this new cycle and the fact that we're moving forward. There's been little progress with my sister. Approximately none. I know that we will get back to the way things were, or close enough to that place. I just can't picture it. Space makes me feel a lot calmer than forcing the situation. Perhaps it's avoidance but it's also self-protection. Today I'll grin and bear it. I predict a meltdown on the car ride home. I should warn J.

1 comment:

  1. There's a part of me that loves the ultrasounds and blood draws too, just because it feels like taking action. I get it. I might end up going through withdrawal these next few months.

    Ugh, baby bumps. I got to stare at one all weekend. Normal fertile biatches.