Friday, June 29, 2012

Why I didn't post yesterday.

As part of our adventures in trying to get knocked up, I had dye shot through my ladyparts yesterday. You know, to make sure everything is there where it's supposed to be and that my innards contain actual ladybits and not that monster from "Alien."

This little beaute of a medical adventure is called an HSG. I'm not totally sure what that stands for, so I'm going to say it's short for holyshitgirl. As in, "Holyshitgirl, that was the most horrendous thing ever in the history of horrendous things."

I wasn't exactly sure I wanted to be doing this in the first place. And the hospital didn't have a record of my appointment, so I had to talk to a bunch of different people, and it gave me hope that just maybe they wouldn't be able to fit me in - so I'd escape!

Except that they did fit me in. And they shot me full of air and iodine and it hurt so badly that I shuddered in shock and started crying. And then I couldn't stop crying, and my ears got soggy. Then, the doctor informed me that he was trying to be gentle, but didn't get enough oomph or whatever, so he had to start over.

It was about this time that I began focusing on the bolt in the ceiling. That bolt was my best friend in the whole world. No one understood me like the bolt. We'd get through this, Bolty and me!

I did some yoga breathing. I kept crying. I realized that I was white-knuckling the neckline of my hospital gown with both hands, just because I needed something to hold on to, to brace myself. Finally, the nightmare was done. I got dressed, was shocked at how little the 4 preventative ibuprofen I'd taken had helped, and hightailed it outta there.

To add insult to injury, I had to pay to park in the hospital garage. By the time I made it to the garage attendent, I was full-on crying. But I somehow managed to have exact change, and I figured that I wasn't the only person who left the hospital garage crying - either from sad hospital stuff or the $2.75 hourly rate in a town of free garages.

I've been in pain since yesterday, despite the ibuprofen, wine, and stash of Thin Mints. And mostly? Mostly, I'm wondering what the fuck we're doing.


I've never been the woman who thinks she has to experience pregnancy and childbirth in order to be fulfilled as a woman or person or whatever. I don't think I'm any genetic prize, and I'm not some thoroughbred horse, anyway, so it doesn't matter. And there are kids who need homes.

And really? I don't want to get poked and proded like yet another dehumanized, upper-middle-class, waited-too-long science experiment just so we can have biological kids. I realize my current outlook is colored by my experience yesterday, but really? This whole infertility escapade seems like total bullshit.

So, yeah. I'm processing.


Linda Anderson said...

Oh dear, your post was so forlorn I had to come out of lurker mode and admit that it actually made me laugh. Not because I've "been there done that" but because it was so vivid. Sometimes we just have to share our human-ness, and sometimes the person you share it with will laugh inappropriately. I wish you luck on your quest. I've found that sometimes you get what you're questing for, and sometimes you get something else, which is, for me anyway, better. I don't have a google account, or an open ID, but I didn't want to be anonymous - Lala

Dorrie said...

Ouch! I could feel your pain. I am 52 and childless. If my brothers and sisters hadn't had kids before me, perhaps I would have been more inclined. I am happy with my life and my furry kids. I have a lot of nieces and nephews and feel I have made a difference in their lives. On the other hand, I am not part of the 'parent' club that most people belong to and I am probably more immature than most people I know who are parents, but I don't necessarily think that is a bad thing.

Cha Cha said...

Thanks Lala and Dorrie. You're right - it IS funny! And besides, I'd rather laugh than cry.

Green Girl in Wisconsin said...

Oh, honey. I didn't know you were struggling in this vein. Hugs to you. And I'm totally praying because someone like you (and My Guy who is really Your Guy) NEED to be parents, DESERVE to be parents, would be the best sort of parental units that children need.

Violet said...

Processing, yeah, I get that. I was not blessed with my own children. The ex and I didn't go through infertility, but I did walk through it with my best friend when she and her husband were trying to conceive. It is frustrating, maddening, and painful. I am sorry you are going through this and I wish you peace and grace.

Just found you via Mrs. G - I met her here in Lincoln the day before she drove to KC. :)

Leslie Smith said...

Thinking of you, lovely one.

Janet said...

Ugh! That sounds absolutely horrifying! I can't even stand when I have to get an ultrasound, and they make you drink all the water then push on your bladder. I can't imagine going through this dye thing.

Rainbow Motel said...

Process away!! Everyone has to do some mental rearranging when dreams and reality don't always look the same. Whatever you want and however you feel? It's all okay. We're right behind you and cheering you on.

Patience_Crabstick said...

How utterly awful. If a procedure is that painful, they should be giving you something stronger than ibuprofen.

Allison Weaver said...

Oh, Cha... I didn't know the dread HSG (I know the word, but really, it only makes it more painful) was on your menu.

Yeah. Just yeah. I'm sorry.

My doctor made a video of mine. As if I'd ever want to watch??

Allison Weaver said...

Oh, Cha... I didn't know the dread HSG (I know the word, but really, it only makes it more painful) was on your menu.

Yeah. Just yeah. I'm sorry.

My doctor made a video of mine. As if I'd ever want to watch??