Are You KIDDING Me With This???

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

My Latest Theory

So, when all of this crap first started going down with the pains and the bleeding and the doctor appointments and the many several blood tests, I was acutely disturbed at the thought that my ability to have more children might be at risk. Oscar and I had always kind of assumed that we'd have two kids biologically. And as much as I love Turtle, I wasn't really ready to consider that I might never be able to get pregnant again. Not that Oscar and I were trying to get pregnant this time around, mind you. We have been in a bit of a holding pattern where family planning was concerned, because we have not had health insurance (which is a whole other rant, entirely.) I mean, thankfully, our health insurance kicked in right before all of this crap came up, but it certainly hasn't been in place long enough for us to even consider adding to our family.

In any case, I was very concerned because this is the second pregnancy I've had go south in the last two years. The last time the bunny died, the pregnancy ended as a blighted ovum, which finally passed at the 3 month mark in a very painful, very messy way. And when the doctor started indicating that this time I would more than likely end up miscarrying, I started getting anxious that there was something wrong with my girly parts that was going to prevent me from carrying another child.

So yesterday, when I saw my doctor again (we still don't know anything for sure; we're just leaning very heavily on the side of "miscarriage"), I asked him exactly how concerned I should be. I was relieved to hear that the blighted ovum and the early miscarriage are considered two completely different beasts, which should not have any effect on my ability to conceive again or bring that pregnancy to term. Which, YAY! I mean, if it happens again, he'll be concerned...three strikes and all....but I shouldn't have anything to worry about once Oscar and I start actively trying to conceive.

I was relaying this to Snark's Mistress last night over IM, one of the many several calls/texts I fielded regarding the status of my uterus (I considered invoking a color chart on par with the Terror Alert Levels, but I wasn't sure how to mass broadcast it....maybe if Oscar has some time tonight, we'll mock one up and post it here....Uterus Alert Level Yellow: Spotting But No Sign Of Infection.) And in the process of discussing what the doctor said, I came up with a new theory, not only about how I got pregnant in the first place, but why it went south so quickly. It goes a little something like this:

See, my family has always been known for being pretty damn fertile. We're quite adept at circumventing birth control methods. So I'm thinking that my little overachieving uterus was thinking to itself "Damn her...she's not giving me ANYTHING to work with here.....How can I polish my skill set if she won't give me the tools I need to do my job???" And my little overachieving ovaries were all "Word. If that bitch would just send us one little sperm, we know we could do things with it. But does she give us anything to work with? No. We're really starting to hate her." And then one day, Oscar and I got a little careless, and a little sperm found its way up the tunnel and even though my ovaries were completely unprepared, they figured they wouldn't get another shot this decade, and pitched the first egg they could find to my uterus. Sadly, that egg wasn't ready yet. And my uterus looked at the ovaries and was like, "Oh, come ON!...the least you could do is give me some good material! I'll do what I can....but no promises." And the rest is history.

So I guess I never had anything to worry about on the fertility front. The problem was never that I am not fertile enough. The problem is that I'm TOO fertile. Go figure.


At August 30, 2006 9:54 AM, Anonymous McMama said...

While reading this post I could just hear Tim Gunn speaking to your uterus saying "Make it work"! Oh, BTW - 23 days and counting.

At August 30, 2006 8:24 PM, Blogger Justin said...

Well, hell ... I wish my med school books were this enthralling. It makes so much more sense this way.


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