“Well, Of Course.”

Today I went for my sonohysterogram, and Anti-Mullerian tests. Because Dr. Petrel was on vacation, I had to go to another office which was about an hour north from my home. Charming.

I got there a little early, and did my best to keep calm. Pat myself on the back, I was pretty successful. Before I left, I did some meditations and practiced recentering my thoughts. I had to do it a few times in the waiting room, but mostly I gave off the impression that I am emotionally balanced.

First up, ultrasounds! You ladies all know the drill- pants off, scooch your bum down to the edge of the table, lay back and relax. (Ha!) As the nurse performed the ultrasound, she asked if I had peed before. Yes, twice. Turns out my very effective kidneys were filling up my bladder yet AGAIN. She could see it. Which makes total sense, but it’s a little strange to have someone tell you that they can see your bladder getting full.

Then we moved along to the sonohysterogram. I’ve had an HSG before, and the process is very similar. Neither I’ve found to be particularly pleasant, mind you.  People say that this isn’t a big deal, and it really isn’t. But I would like to state for the record that for me, this is more than “just getting a pap.” It’s legit uncomfortable.

The doctor who performed the test was a younger woman, probably around my age. She was light, fun, asked me about my weekend. For some reason, we ended up talking about gay pride parades. I noticed that she was poking around in there a bit longer than my HSG– my cervix was playing hide-and-seek.

I do not mean to freak anyone out who hasn’t had a sonohysterogram or HSG, but I KNOW when that catheter is in. I started cramping and I had to catch my breath for a second. The lights went off, the wand went in, and they got down to work.

It’s strange to lie there and have people talk about what’s happening to you, just not talking at you. At a certain point, the doctor said that the saline balloon was deflating, so they needed to get the pictures quickly. They’re snapping up pics like my uterus is Kim Kardashian, when the doctor says “It looks like there is something on the anterior wall. Can we get that?” She starts jiggling that damn wand around, which seemed to have moved the catheter around too. At this point, I could feel my uterus getting bloated. I knew it wasn’t bad, it just didn’t feel right.

DR: Are you doing okay?

ME: Yeah… (unconvincingly)

DR: Are you feeling [INSERT MEDICAL JARGON HERE]?

ME: I have no idea what that means.

DR: Are you feeling dizzy? Nauseous? Sweaty?

ME: I am a little clammy…

DR: Okay, we’ll get this finished up then.

When they were done (which was mercifully soon), the doctor went over the results with me. Drum roll, please… I have two very small polyps in my uterus, one toward the front and one toward the back. I took the news like a champ. No idea why, since my usual MO is to freak out over everything. On a certain level, I was expecting this. I actually said “Okay, when do we schedule the operation?” (Some of you may remember this premonition from my post on Friday.) I have to wait until Dr. Petrel is back from her vacation for the final verdict, but I’m pretty sure I’m getting those suckers removed.

I put my pants back on, and waddled out to the car. I was half way there when I remember that I need to get my blood work for the Anti-Mullerian test, and I waddled back in to have my blood drawn.

As I drove the 45 minutes back to my workplace, I was abnormally calm. I was definitely feeling crampy and crabby, but that was my body, not my mind. Mostly, I just thought that this is another step on my journey. I was struck by this one thought, however.

My body really does not want to get pregnant.

It’s growing polyps, producing fewer/low quality eggs (potentially- still waiting on the AMH test results.) It’s throwing all sorts of roadblocks here. To quote some other blogger somewhere: “My body isn’t a wonderland. It is an asshole.”

I want to be clear- I do not think that this is “a sign” or that this is anyone’s “will.” I still believe that all these hurdles are surmountable. But let’s be real: if it weren’t for the miracle of medicine, I would have a very slim chance of getting pregnant at this point. Let’s hear it for science!

As a postscript to this delightful day, I learned a good friend of mine is pregnant. She is one of the folks in my life who knows about my IF dramz, so she wrote me the sweetest note about how happy she is, but how she understands if I’m upset. I honestly appreciate that she chose to email me personally, rather than get ambushed on Facebook. And as we’ve established, I’m truly happy for her. Her joy is my joy– until the Universe stops being a tool and gives me a little of my own.

However, I was struck by the timing. I’m sitting at my desk– hunched over in a ball recovering from my sonohysterogram crampage– when I get the email. She’s growing a baby. I’m growing polyps.

“Well, of course.”

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14 comments

  1. Awaiting Autumn · August 25, 2014

    Polyps are treatable. Keep your head up. There’s always hope.

    • thecommonostrich · August 26, 2014

      Exactly. This is the first step in explaining my unexplained fertility. In a strange way, I prefer knowing that the polyps are there because then there is something to DO about it.

      Onward!

  2. julieann081 · August 26, 2014

    I’m so very sorry to hear about the polyps and the discomfort and cramping! I’m glad you have taken the news well so far and are viewing this as just another step in the process. I’m impressed with your emotional control and that meditation has helped so much. Good for you! I am thinking of you and am here if you want/need to talk! ❤

    • thecommonostrich · August 26, 2014

      um… if I am to be honest, I’m impressed with my emotional control as well. I’m sure I’ll freakout about something soon though. 😉

      Thanks for the support– you know exactly how much it means to realize other people are going through this stuff too!

      • julieann081 · August 26, 2014

        Hugs, hugs, and more hugs! ❤

  3. sbear2014 · August 26, 2014

    I’m so sorry, I just went through this so I can totally relate. Lol, yes! Our bodies are definitely acting more like assholes than wonderlands. Sorry John Mayer!

    • thecommonostrich · August 26, 2014

      I know! I read your post about your hysteroscopy, and that totally made me feel better.

      Thanks for sharing your experience. 🙂

  4. conceptionallychallenged · August 26, 2014

    I found my first saline sonogram really uncomfortable. And I’m sorry for the polyps and the unexpected announcement. Hoping that Dr. Petrel has a good plan and encouraging statistics for you.

    • thecommonostrich · August 26, 2014

      Thank goodness- I was starting to think I was the only one. I swear everyone makes it sound like these are as easy as getting a facial.

      I’m hopeful that Petrel has good plan of attack, once all the tests are in. At this point, I’m aware that the chances are not% optimal (or I wouldn’t be in this mess.) I’m just looking forward to some honest information and direction.

  5. Haisla · August 26, 2014

    Well done for surviving the procedure! I don’t think I’ve had that one done (at least whilst conscious) but I do know that having tubes inserted through the cervix gives me the cramps, so can sympathise. And the polyps do sound like good news – like many before me have said, at least something can be done about them. “Unexplained” can feel like just such a futile and lazy ‘diagnosis’. May this be a start of better things to come. I’m really hoping that the AMH results will bring you good news!!x

    • thecommonostrich · August 28, 2014

      Thanks! I do sorta feel like a champ. If anything, perhaps I am learning to regulate my emotions better. Meh… who knows…

      Isn’t it strange to think of polyps as good news? But I honestly felt a little relieved. “Unexplained” is so incredibly unsatisfying. (Preaching to the choir, I realize.) I feel like a genuine plan of attack is on the way.

  6. bionicbrooklynite · August 27, 2014

    I had polyps, got em out, and presto*, baby. Plus, I got fancy color pictures of my uterus.

    *where presto=frozen embryo transfer.

    My HSG was nightmarish. Glad yours wasn’t, but if that’s what facials are like, whoa.

    • thecommonostrich · August 28, 2014

      Thank YOU for the validation. Every doctor I’ve talked with about HSGs and Sonos have spoken so casually about them, I was starting to think I’m some chicken. “What do you mean having something jammed up your cervix, then flushing your uterus with fluid is uncomfortable?” BAH!

      I’m weirdly calm about the polyps. If I think about it too much, it kinda grosses me out. But I’ll be getting those suckers out soon anyway.

      • bionicbrooklynite · August 30, 2014

        Frankly, getting the polyps out was way less of a big deal than the hsg, because I was asleep. I had more pain after than is usual (because lucky me), but then they gave me stronger meds and it was okay. Plus I got graham crackers after.

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