I haven’t blogged the last few days because I’ve been having a big fight with my stupid uterus. The whole thing was totally my uterus’ fault.

There I was on Tuesday, minding my own business, all caught up in babymaking, temperature taking, fertility charting excitement, when my ob/gyn called to tell me the results of the pathology report from my polyps.

She left a message because I didn’t answer the phone on account of how I was using the potty. This happens to me all the time. I only get important calls when I’m otherwise engaged. Or when my phone has been in my purse on silent for three days.

After assuring me everything was benign, she said that she is “pretty sure” she still didn’t get all of my polyps out this time. I’m assuming she was “pretty sure” because the tiny dime size amount of polyp in the little specimen cup eventually got compared to the picture and estimated size/weight of the giant polyp(s) in my uterus.

Which led her to think it might be a fibroid after all. Bringing the potential fibroid population of my uterus to 6. Which led her to give me an immediate referral to a fertility specialist, instead of waiting 6 months like we had talked about just a few short days before. She ended with a cheery upbeat instruction to keep taking my prenatals and continue to “attempt pregnancy”.

This news would probably make most women sad. Nobody likes to hear the word fertility specialist. But I got pissed.the.fuck.off. I actually looked down at my uterus and said, “I can’t even talk to you right now, you traitorous bitch.”

I remained pissed off the rest of the night, but I woke up sad Wednesday morning. I listened to my doctor’s message again and cried for awhile. I emailed Jerrad, who can always put things in perspective and make me feel better. His response was,

“What’s the worst that can happen? That your uterus is completely broken? Then we adopt and you get to avoid the months of pain and nausea, and the hooha-stretching/ belly-cutting.”

All very good points. Incidentally, the topic of my possible infertility came up way back when we were talking about getting married. Before he proposed I wanted him to know that on account of my history of cervical cancer, incredibly painful periods, and the high rate of miscarriages in my family, there was a better than average chance he might not be getting any heirs to the throne from me. Infertility is hard enough on a couple when it’s completely unexpected and I wanted him to know what he might be signing up for.

This led to a discussion about how we would handle infertility if it did come up. For reasons I’ll discuss in a future blog, we’re not really considering things like IVF or surrogacy. We’re both fine with adoption.

Not to say that it would be easy to let go of the idea of having children together. I’ve wanted children with this man pretty much from the moment I met him. A few months ago, I saw a video his mom had of him doing a magic show when he was 11 or 12. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen. It made me want to tear his clothes off and do it right there on the floor of the semi-clean spare room.

I’m going to assume that was biology making me want a cute little baby with my husband’s looks, mannerisms, sense of humor, and sweet disposition, and not that I’m some sort of weird lady pedophile.

Anyway, Jerrad’s comment did, as usual, put everything in perspective for me. Plus, it’s actually working out better this way. I no longer feel the pressure to get pregnant in 6 months – which can be a tall order for women that happen to be blessed with a cooperative uterus. We can meet with the fertility specialist right away to discuss removing the fibroids. How many couples are lucky enough to get a referral to a specialist before they’ve even started trying? And maybe, just maybe, we’ll be cancelling that appointment because I’ll be pregnant after all.

So, now that I’m sure that we’re going to be parents one way or another, and my blog revenue is now in the double digits, I’m ready to start picking out baby stuff.

Tags: conception, fertility, Trying To Conceive, uterine fibroids, uterine polyps

This entry was posted by Cathy on Thursday, January 29th, 2009 at 12:48 pm and is filed under Marriage, My Stupid Uterus, Trying To Conceive. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.