The Beginning...

For the past year, the Hubby and I have been trying to start our family. The plan was simple, throw away the condoms, do the baby dance, and get pregnant. It seemed pretty straight forward, and neither of us put that much thought or emotion into it. It was just time, and it would happen when it was suppose to. After the first couple of months went by and no baby magic, I started to get anxious. I don't think I was prepared to have to wait. I don't like waiting. I thought I didn't care, that I was OK with just seeing what happens, but I was wrong. My emotions were in this deep, and with every passing month, it hurt worse and worse.

This process is such a rollercoaster! You start off hopeful, full of love, and excitement to make a baby, fertile week comes and the anticipation grows, then you wait, do you feel different, a little sick this morning, fever, tired, hungry, anything? Of course the time that you find out your not pregnant just happens to be the same time your insides are playing Mortal Kombat with each other and your emotions have turned you into a bipolar lunatic. So the rollercoaster comes to a crash, somehow staying on track and slowly moves on to start all over again. There is always that moment where you ponder getting off, is it really worth doing it all again, will the end ever change.

This was life, not all of it, there was a lot of joy and excitement going on as well, but this is what was lying just underneath the surface.

Then we hit an even bigger bump, cysts were found on my ovaries. At first they were said to be normal average cysts and nothing to worry about. (I always worry) It was a little bit of a relief to have an answer as to why things weren't happening. Then we began to talk about the possibilities, I hate that doctors have to be so thorough! These were problems I didn't want to think about, but all the what ifs began anyways.

Regardless of the outcome the cysts had to be removed, so surgery was scheduled and out they came. I remember sitting in the waiting room with hubby listening to Slick Shoes, and writing down the positives things: getting rid of scary cysts, time off work, lots of chocolate, free food, sleeping, no more nightmares about blob like monsters eating my insides, and getting back to baby making!

Hours later I awoke, sore, and drugged. I remember the look on hubby's face, smiling, he looked tired. I didn't want to ask, and he didn't want to tell me. If everything had gone perfectly well that would have been the first thing he said. But he didn't, he just said I love you.
Eventually it came out, the doctors found endometriosis. They were able to scrape most of it away, but one tube was blocked up.

The last couple of days have been a blur. I don't think i am ready to process what all this means. I feel lost, and kind of numb. All the dreams of family and baby bellies have been put away. It is easier to just not think about it, to not answer questions or even talk to people. I don't want to answer how i am doing, I honestly don't think I know. Hubby has been so strong, and wonderful, he answers for me, he deals with people so I don't have to. I love him.

We go back to the Doctor on Wednesday. I don't want to go. I know they will have answers, but I am not sure I want them.