Last Monday was my pre-op appointment for the D&C/Polyp removal. I felt fine going in to the appointment. I had done my research, I knew what the procedure entailed, the risks, complications, etc… I felt really at peace with it. My blood pressure, however, gave me away. 148/90…. The nurse kept saying oh that’s ok, I’m not worried, that is until I told her I am normally 120/80, but we chalked it up to nerves. Basically all that happened was I met with the anesthesiologist to choose method of sedation. I opted for conscious mainly because it meant I get to leave sooner than general anesthesia, and the sooner I can get home to my sweet pants and netflix, the better.
When I was getting registered for pre-op the clerk who checked me in was also a patient at AART. It was really nice to have someone who understood what we were going through. As I sat waiting to register the room was a revolving door of pregnant women. Now there was a time not long ago that my heart likely would have shattered into a million pieces seeing this. I was sitting there waiting to register for a surgery because I can’t get pregnant, while they were registering for pregnancy related procedures. Seeing them didn’t phase me in the least, other than maybe a little baby bump envy. I love all things bump, I think they are one of the most beautiful and amazing things and I honestly cannot wait to have one of my own and be able to watch it grow and move, knowing that our little miracle is inside of it. The thing that stood out to me most tho from this appointment wasn’t anything the doctor or nurses told me about what to expect, or even those beautiful baby bumps. What stood out to me the most was the last thing the registration clerk said to me. “I truly hope this is your last mother’s day alone”. Such a small gesture of compassion meant so much. I told her that I hope the same for her.
It’s moments like the above that make you really realize just what a close bond you can form with other women who are going through the same thing you are. I don’t know this lady, and sadly I never got her name, but someone who had never met me before made an impact with such a small little exchange of words. I am not a huge prayer, but since I met her last week I have been including her in my thoughts, that she is soon blessed with what she wants the most.
Ok, back on track. The point of this post today is to prove that even tho most of the time I am really positive about our journey I do have bad days. I know it will happen for us, it’s just a matter of when, but Saturday I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. I don’t know if it was hormones or just waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but everything got under my skin. Aaron made a completely innocent and hopeful comment about how after the D&C we will be on the right track to getting what we want and I snapped. We spent most of the day fighting with each other and even after a nap I was still a hostile bitch to him. And the worst part was he was only 5% of my anger, but he was the closest thing to take my frustration out on. Even after we have the D&C and polyp removed there are no guarantees. Even with the next step of medication to help with ovulation, that doesn’t mean we will end up pregnant, it just gives us a better shot. I think it was Aaron’s blind faith on a day that I just wanted to rage against the world that made me snap. I knew that deep down I felt the same way he did, that we were on a positive path, but it was almost like I was trying to self sabotage us. It’s very rare that he and I “fight”. Sure we argue and bicker, but Saturday was almost like we were intentionally trying to hurt the other, and I will admit, it was mainly my fault. I won’t go in to great detail because Aaron is pretty private about a lot of things, and even making a public blog I want to respect him as much as I can. I did deal some pretty low blows and he rather than dealing with the situation head on walked away a few times, which we both hate when the other does because it just drags things out even longer.We finally made up that evening (which was good since he sailed the next day and I hate leaving things unfinished when he goes away, because you just never know) after a very long talk on the front porch, where I was able to get out what I needed to say, that he needs to let me have bad days. I can’t be rainbows and kittens every day and he was able to tell me what really bothered him the most. It may have taken 10 hours of fighting, but we finally got back to a spot of mutual understanding and respect, and I did feel pretty bad about ruining our Saturday. Today I feel a million times better and I am looking forward to surgery, as weird as that sounds, and while I am nervous I know it’s another giant leap in good direction.
I think I needed Saturday, as awful as it was, to remind me how much better I feel when I dwell on the good and not the bad. Some days you have to let yourself feel all that pain and frustration so that you can then realize just how strong you really are and how much you have already overcome.
“Anyone can give up, it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that’s true strength.”