Someone please tell me why you can get nitrous oxide for something as simple as getting your teeth cleaned, but removing a chunk or two of flesh from my endometrium doesn’t warrant so much as a Tylenol. Seriously?
I had 2 biopsies almost 10 days ago and I’m still involuntarily crossing my legs when I see anything that vaguely reminds me of a speculum. Shudder.
The last time I was at Winterlude I was 8 weeks pregnant. I would lose the baby 3 weeks later.
I’m ok.
I’m not dwelling on this, I promise. It’s just the way it is. It’s a small thought that worms its way matter-of-factly into my brain. It’s just there. What can I say? It’s a part of the way I measure reality.
I have an appointment with a new fertility doctor next week and every time I think about it, I feel sick. She’s got a great reputation and she specializes in multiple losses. That should make me feel pretty good, right?
I have one of those bodies that packs on 10 lbs as soon as it sees 2 lines on a pregnancy test. It’s just the way I roll. No pun intended. Ha.
My first pregnancy I packed on 57 lbs. It was very noticeable. That’s just my body, and what it wanted to do over 9 months and I’m cool with that. I lost all the baby weight by the time Vee was about 10 months. It wasn’t entirely effortless - there may have been a lot of Jillian Michael’s involved - but that’s another story.
A couple of days before my D&C I headed over to Home Sense, to lose myself in some holiday décor shopping. I got some festive ornaments, throw pillows, and these awesome 2’ x 4’ typographic canvases that pack a lovely graphic punch to our living room wall. Because we all know nothing says Christmas like random pop art. Especially when it’s on sale.
Not kidding. Actually it’s more like a bizarre case of Schrodinger’s Kat. Depending on earlier random events and the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum physics, I am simultaneously both pregnant and definitely not pregnant. Let me explain.
