In case you’ve been asking yourself where I’ve been lately, all I can say is: be glad I wasn’t here. Man was I in a foul, moody, depressed funk. None of that “life is good” shit for me, thanks. None of that “seeing the bright side” drivel. Despondency, yeah, that works for me. Except... it obviously didn’t.
Anyway, The Mood got worse and worse as the day of my hysteroscopy drew nearer. This was the day I’d been hoping for and simultaneously dreading — the day that would give me a possible answer (with a big delay built in) or an all-clear (with fear of another random lightning strike built in). Either way I was terrified, especially at the prospect of them maneuvering a camera through my cervix. (Those battery packs can get pretty large, you know.) And I wasn’t buying any of their “it won’t hurt” bollocks. So it was without a smile on my face that I got up at six o’clock this morning for the hour-long drive. Then, just as we had to leave, I got into a rip-roaring fight with an equally unsmiling M. (It wasn’t about this, but it sucked.) Smiles were still nowhere in sight when we got into the world’s worst commuter-and-snow-and-ice-accidents traffic jam on the Autobahn, and realized halfway into it that we’d be late, which we both hate. Mixed in with my fear of the procedure was a new fear that the procedure would be canceled. And then I needed the loo, too. Reaaaaally badly. M did as well. You can imagine the sparkly, scintillating conversation taking place in our little car.
So much for the lead-up. We got there 15 minutes late (yikes!), but they seemed very cool about it. Maybe they order people in 30 minutes in advance. Then they asked me to sign in (with the world’s slowest receptionist) and provide them with a urine sample. Considering that my very first stop had been the bathroom, I was more than skeptical, but they said they’d be happy with a teeny-tiny little bit, and that’s what I gave them. (I wonder what that was all about — do you think they ran a pregnancy test?)
Then they called me in, and a few seconds later M was let in too. I was asked to take my pants and undies off, and then they put me on a gyno chair and cranked me up high. M took up his position behind my head, getting a view I was a bit more comfortable with. The spectaculum (I know, I just don’t want to be Googled by perverts) was inserted and my insides swabbed with disinfectant for that Morning Fresh Feeling. Then the camera thingy went in. When the doctor said “OK, we’re going through the cervix now,” I couldn’t believe it — it didn’t hurt a bit. All that good worrying gone to waste. Then I was riveted by what was happening on the monitor. Suddenly the walls opened up and we were seeing the inside of my uterus in all its gory. To the left was the exit of one fallopian tube, then, backing up, we could see the other side too. But the problem was that we had to back up to see it. Hanging down the middle was a long, shiny, broad protrusion that one of the attending residents said looked like a nose.
Yes, folks, I have a septum. And I have a very credible reason for my miscarriages.
I’m amazed and puzzled that it has never been discovered on any ultrasound. Yes, there was some talk about my possibly having an arcuate uterus, but even my RE (Dr. Z, who was there today too) had said a full-fledged septum was unlikely given my ultrasound findings. And now it seems I have exactly that: a full-fledged septum, or, as I now prefer to call it, an Embryo Docking Station of Death.
What happens now? I’m going to have the thing removed on February 21. And after that, I have to... whoa I'm battling the worst case of deja-vu here... avoid conceiving for three months.
Which makes that my sixth three-month wait since I got off the pill in December 2003. To recap, these were the others:
- After my first (failed) rubella shot in January 2004;
- After my first D&C in May 2004;
- After my second D&C in January 2005;
- After my second (failed) rubella shot in March 2005 (one-month overlap with 3);
- After my third D&C in October 2005.
Teeeeeeedious, eh? But oddly enough, I’m feeling really upbeat today. Welcome back, Optimism. I’ve missed you, you silly cow.