Sunday, September 26, 2010

People hate my lady-parts

So here is the skinny:
My husband and I have been trying to conceive for about 4 months.  We've been using the fertility awareness method, and we finally got pregnant about amonth ago, really the first time we could really time it right.  (Woot!  Let's hear it for cervical mucus!)  Unfortunately, I am now in the process of miscarrying, which obviously sucks; on a lot of levels.
The thing is, I kind of knew I would miscarry.  Yes, I am a super-neurotic, so generally speaking I would not correct anyone who dismissed this idea as me crazy-ing it up again, but I think in this case, anyone with my reproductive history would probably suffer from feelings of uterine inadequacy.
The first time I went to a gyno, she pretty much verbally abused me.  Here I am, sixteen, who has in the past suffered from severe back aches and cramping.  This doctor stomps in as if she has been massively inconvenienced by my reproductive organs.  She was all frowny and jabby, sighing and clicking her tongue.  Finally she lets me sits up and says to me, "You have a very tilted uterus and probably have endometriosis..  You will probably never have kids."  Then she pretty much just got up and walked out, probably off to go kick some puppies somewhere.
Later, a doctor who was much sweeter, consoles me, "No, no,no, you don't have endometriosis.  There is no way to know that without sugery.  No, you have low progesterone, that's while you'll never have kids."  Oh, phew!  I feel much better.
So, abnormal pap, after abnormal pap I had prettty much grown accustomed to doctors hating my uterus.  However, despite all these questionable results, doctors would always kinda shrug and say, "Well, when you are ready to have kids, we'll see what happens."  Easy for them to say; they would not be the one having a miscarriage.
So at this point I pretty much regard the entire region as a hazardous area, especially after the last miscarriage.  I have a doctor's appointment in two weeks, and while I am eager for it, I am terrified.  I am envisioning myself in the stirrups, a green glow eminating from between my legs and reflecting off the doctor's horrified face as she shields her eyes screaming, "Look away!  Look away!".  There will be yellow incident tape and hazmat suits: it's not gonna be pretty.

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