it’s complicated

Glow in the Woods had a post about trust in our bodies after babyloss. Like so many others, I’ve had ups and downs. Infertility is a major down – it’s hard to accept not being able to get pregnant “naturally”, even though given my history it wasn’t all that surprising.

But for some reason I thought I’d be good at pregnancy. I even thought, after completing our family, I could be a surrogate for friends in case they turned out to need this. That’s how convinced I was my body could do this.

We transferred two embryos, and both implanted. I’m so thankful for this. It gave me some confidence in my body back. Then there were the bleeding episodes – scary, but fortunately the babies were always fine. We made it into the second trimester, the supposedly safe zone.

I had this weird pelvic pressure, for weeks. The first doctor thought it wasn’t a concern. And then it was almost too late. I’m trying not to dwell on the what-ifs, but sometimes it is hard to resist… what if I had insisted on being checked earlier? Would there have been any way to keep the babies inside, C’s amniotic sac intact for longer?

The extra post-partum bleeding didn’t help, though I don’t think it hurt my relationship with my body much, either. The thing is, I think my body fairly reliably tells me when something is wrong. The pain I had before my endometriosis was discovered, the pelvic pressure that may have had to do with the shortening cervix… It knows, my body. It may not be able to perform all those tasks I’d want it to, but it tells me when things are off. And I am amazed that it can produce eggs that make such beautiful babies together with H’s sperm. And carry them for quite a while. I hope I’ll learn to listen to it even more, and I hope that my doctors will listen, and that they will actually be able to do something in case things start to slide.

But of course we first need to get there. I was so proud when it started making cervical mucus again (yes, proud may seem an odd feeling, but it is what it is), and glad when my period returned. On Monday I had a saline sonogram to check my uterine cavity for anything from scars to polyps that might be detrimental to implantation. They found a tiny thing, in fact, they’re not sure it’s anything at all – we’re still waiting for my main RE’s verdict. And while I didn’t have the painful cramps I had after my last saline sonogram, I started bleeding yesterday. More today, like a period. Of course I don’t even know if this has anything to do with the procedure, or if my body is simply still trying to get back on track. It’s just not exactly helping my confidence. And yet, after reading Suzanne’s post, I feel like I should be grateful that everything is most-likely-okay. And I am. I’d just have it rather all be great, for all of us.

PS: WordPress says this was my 100th post. The title seems fitting.


9 thoughts on “it’s complicated

  1. Oh, I just want to give you a big hug, dear woman. I think that your willingness to still be friends with your body after what happened is the mark of a true and deep resilience. You are beautiful.

    For what it’s worth, I’ve had 2 saline sonograms and bled after both, even if it was not at all time to have a period (and even if my period is as predictable as the sun rising since it’s entirely under the control of hormone replacement therapy). Both times, I bled for a few days and then it stopped. If I remember correctly, I still had a period when I was supposed to. The way I explained it to myself was that the saline disrupted the uterine lining, weakened it in a way, and some of it was shedding. Not sure if that’s the reason, but that explanation satisfied my ever ravenous “need to know WHY things are the way they are”

    1. Thanks for sharing, Augusta! Your theory makes sense. At my last saline sonogram I was on a progesterone-only type of BCP (for/against endometriosis) so my lining must have been minimal.

      As for the friendship, well, I feel like I can only go through a successful pregnancy with my body. Not against it. Which is not to say that it won’t take coaxing and medication and other sorts of tricks. But I hope we can do this.

  2. It’s so hard to not question the “what if’s”. It’s so easy to tell you not to second guess any thing from that you could have noticed or done. But I know it’s easier to give that advise, than to actually listen to it. I question all of the time, what if I’d just told the doctor I didn’t want a D&C. Of course, I blame myself and wonder about if “only I’d done this different or listen to my body more”…but I know I can’t. I just have to try and fix and figure things out to make my body right again. I wish I could give you a big hug because I know you’ve gone through so much. My hope and wish for you is that you will get there, sooner rather than later. xoxo

  3. I started celebrating this week when I saw cervical mucous too. Strange the things we actually get excited about once we’re going through this infertility stuff, right? I’m glad things are starting to get back on track with your body. But please don’t dwell too much on whether you should have known something earlier…that way lies madness, and I’m sure there’s nothing that could have changed anything.

  4. It most definitely is complicated, but I have to say that you have one of the most admirable outlooks toward everything! To go through all that you did, and still have a mostly good relationship with your body and be ready to go at it again is truly impressive. Your resiliency is truly inspirational. I really really hope that everything goes smoothly through the FET process and you come out on the other side of this infertility battle.

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