BYE POLLY- Hysteroscopy and Polypectomy FTW also . . .NEW YEAR, NEW BETTY
Tomorrow I get an old friend cut out of my tortured uterus. For at least a short while I will no longer be able to refer to myself as a “polyp princess,” and will hopefully see some benefit from this whopper being removed. The surgery is quite minimal, so minimal in fact that my parents’ departed for their three-month Florida holiday today without any apprehensions about their sacred only child going under the knife the following morning.
My parents (also my in laws and sister-in-law, I have the “unicorns” of in-laws) are truly an amazing source of support- I’ll have to write about that soon. Am I the only Betty out there that has awesome in laws? I can’t imagine what it would be like going through all of this with asshole ones.
It really should be a quick recovery, and I’ll be back up and (literally) running within a few days. I’m not at all nervous about the procedure, but the implications and realness of it all weigh heavily on my mind. Tomorrow marks our one-way entry back into the twisted rollercoaster of emotions that fertility treatments require. I’ve spent the past year trying to prepare myself solely to combat this, but I’m not sure I will be able to. ..it’s.just.so.hard.
Does anyone actually enjoy the ride? We have to endure and risk so much to attempt to have a baby. I always laugh that most people can produce a child from the act of SEX - it’s like SERIOUSLY, THAT IS ALL YOU HAVE TO DO TO MAKE A BABY? What FILTH!
If you don’t have to have your insides ripped to shreds, spend your entire life savings, and harvest your own eggs in order to create the perfect embryo, IMHO it shouldn’t even count.
My New Year’s resolution is to stop being overly passive (symbolic tiger picture above) when I’m bothered by the questions people ask me that cross my line. I’m not an assertive person . . . I blame it on years of catholic school and wanting to be a nun for the vast majority of my formative years. I’m going to come out of the gates SWINGING (politely) at anyone who asks me anything that previously would have secretly pissed me off.
To the neighborhood idiot that knows we can’t get pregnant, but still asks nearly every.single.time she sees me I will say, “Do I look pregnant!? Are you still swimming in debt and getting drunk at Buffalo Wild Wings with your children home alone?”
No, I won’t say that- I have too much respect for Buffalo Wild Wings. Plus, I have a BANGING BODY (well, like 65 to70% banging-still working on that) so I know I don’t look pregnant.
In all seriousness, I will work toward being more assertive when people unknowingly say things repeatedly that are offensive. I will have to display tact, kindness and grace - which may prove difficult for this hormonal Betty, but it’s necessary.
BB’s- What are your resolutions?