I had been feeling better mentally recently, and I had convinced myself I would actually get to sit in the doctor's office and not cry for the first time in 2015. Unfortunately, that was not meant to be (I think I may hold some kind of record at this point).
I had a different doctor this time, and he explained every part of the procedure, which I found to be really helpful. Just knowing what is happening is somehow incredibly reassuring to me. Something about not being taken by surprise when something is shoved into you I suppose. I also suspect he may be a wizard of some sort because this time the SIS was a lot less painful; almost verging on just uncomfortable. Almost.
So I laid there while the 4 people around me got to stare at the screen and see what was going on. As I looked up at their faces, I laughed to myself about how unfair that situation felt. How about cluing in the girl who actually has her insides on the screen?! I wanna see!
Later, under more comfortable circumstances, the doctor showed me what appears to be a small fibroid chilling inside my uterus still. The doctor didn't seem too concerned. While it's harder to be not concerned when it's your uterus, I have to trust him here. Of course, that is a double edged sword, because then I also have to trust him when he says we should wait another cycle to allow more time to heal. Another.freaking.cycle.
It's really hard not to let this get to me. I know logically it's not so bad, but it's not one visit in isolation, it's a not-so-great visit on top of everything else that's happened the past 4 months, and it's hard not to let even the smallest of setbacks feel like they are just piling on one more thing. It makes me think of those arcade games with the quarters just barely staying on the ledge. One more quarter in, and the whole thing goes tumbling down. So I'll admit, I tumbled again for a couple hours.
It's a very good read. I was most struck by some of the quotes. One in particular really resonated with me:
I wish people knew how much it's possible to miss a person you have never met, and to mark time by their absence. I will always think about how old my baby would be now and what our lives would be like if I hadn't lost the pregnancy.
I have admittedly been marking time by our baby's absence. Very often I think about what I might be doing, or how I might look right now, if I was still pregnant. I count down days to my due date. There's never really a time where I couldn't tell you what trimester I would be in or how much longer I would have had to go. It's a shitty way to go through life, so I've been trying to cut this out. Some times it's easier said than done of course, especially on days like today when you feel a little punched in the gut (or uterus) again.