Wreck Womb

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:

1. After my first (failed) rubella shot in January 2004;
2. After my first D&C in May 2004;
3. After my second D&C in January 2005;
4. After my second (failed) rubella shot in March 2005 (one-month overlap with 3);
5. 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.

Comments

[Molly]

Well thank God they've finally stumbled on what the problem is. Hoping that its removal bodes only good things. For now, drink up!

[susie]

So glad they found something, and something fixable. Can't believe you get another three-month wait, is this some special torture reserved only for you? My goodness.

Like Molly said, drink up. You'll be able to enjoy Starkbierzeit at least. ;-)

[Jenn]

Hey I got one of them fancy Embryo Docking Station of Death things. Well, had one. They kept telling me it wouldn't be an issue. Two miscarriages later it came out and, so far so good. The waiting sucks. And if you wake up with a balloon in your uterus, watch out, that fucker HURTS when they yank it out. Other than that it wasn't bad at all.

[Amanda]

Wow. I'm so glad that you have some answers and a solution to boot. And I'm glad you've found some optimism, too.

[stephanie]

i think every recurrent miscarrier dreams of the day a reason for their miscarriges happen is found. i bet is both hard to know there is a problem, but a relief to know that it can be fixed. and now you solidified for me the reason that I am going in for a shg next month.

wierd to say it, but great news kath! hope is alive.

[Nona]

I'm happy for you that you have an answer. Stupid septum be gone!!!! I hope your spirits stay up too.

[mm]

I know of what you speak (er, type). The septum, the surgery, the mother fucking waiting. But I'm SO glad they finally found that thing!! You may want to ask your RE for an MRI before you go thru with the surgery. This will give them a MUCH better idea of what exactly you're dealing with (true septate ute versus a bicornuate ute... they can look an awful lot alike, but a septate ute is easily fixed with surgery, a bicornuate ute is not). I only say this bc I went through HELL and 3 doctors before mine was properly diagnosed. If either of my first two doctors had paid attn to the MRI, I would have been spared a lot of time and swearing.

[Leggy]

Somehow it does seem easier once there is a friggin diagnosis, doesn't it? Sorry you have another hold up, but it sounds like you are at least making progress.

[Carrie]

I'm sorry to be so Pollyanna about this, but thank god they found something they can fix. Three months sucks...A LOT...but think of the possiblities after that.
Wishing you the best!

[Manuela]

Wow! As only a fellow infertile can understand... I am SOOO happy for you! What wonderful news to have a tangible diagnosis! What a freaking relief...

And honey... sweety... lovey... liebling... PLEASE re-send me your phone number!!! I've been wanting to call but I lost it in a computer crash...

[Karen]

How wonderful to have a diagnosis besides "crappy eggs, probably." I'm so glad you have an answer, and a problem that can be fixed. You must feel as though the weight of the world is off your shoulders!

[fisher queen]

It's always so great to be able to point to a reason. Here's to smooth sailing from now on.

[Prop Your Hips Up]

I'm so glad that they've identified the issue - how wonderful to know "what" is going on. I've finally caught up on all your posts (yep, I read from the beginning - I can't start commenting until I do that for some reason - blog ettiquete perhaps?), and I was delighted to read this post.

[Lori]

Death to the Embryo Docking Station!! I know it's frustrating to have to sit around waiting again but I hope the knowledge that this could finally be it, helps a tiny bit.
I'm glad to hear it wasn't painful and that they found something fixable.

[Ornery]

I'm so VERY glad that you found an answer, that the procedure wasn't painful, and that your optimism is back! Yippee!!

(Embryo Docking Station of Death...LOVE it! When I read that, I immediately had this image of a Death Star-shaped embryo floating ominously toward a laptop docking station. My true nerd colors are shining through.)

[Kristy]

I'm so glad it went better than you hoped. Good luck with the removal. This is good. They are going to fix you.

[elle]

Dare I say it - but Kath, that is DAMN good news! Given the universe of outcomes and diagnoses, this is a great, fantastic one! The waiting, of course, sucks big time, but AFTER that - it's all clear! Wonderful! I'm (weirdly?) excited that you have this news!

[Lut C.]

Embryo Docking Station of Death, that's one for my collection!

Thanks for describing the procedure in detail. I've been reading about it in a book, but I don't trust them not to downplay pain and discomfort.

[Alexa]

I actually clapped my hands in glee, reading this--how odd is it that we are all so delighted?
But, nevertheless, I am. I am so relieved for you that you have a credible reason for your miscarriages. Though the three months things is starting to become a bit of a punchline, isn't it?

[wessel]

Whoah! That must have been a surprise, but so good that you discovered it. And I cannot believe that the hysteroscopy didn't hurt you! It was EXCRUCIATING to me -- I mean, I almost fainted on the table. Well, lucky you, for escaping that pain.

I'm sorry you have to wait yet again, but this is pretty important news and you have to get it taken care of. Hopefully starting out with a newly repaired uterus will make all the difference.

[Sassy]

I'm so glad they found something they can fix up for you. The waiting must suck, but at least you know now that it will all be okay when you start trying again.

[Lioness]

Oh, oh, but that's fixable, good one! That is excellent! [Er, within the Absolute Bollocks frame, of course) Embryo Docking Station of Death - sorry, I laughed.

I lurk here often - *cheery wave!*- , was very happy to see your comment bcs - that means I can comment here, yes? Fearfully, but still. Right? Also, I could have written your first paragraph. (In fact, I believe I sort of did). And how on earth did you learn Portie, woman?

[Flicka]

I love "Embryo Docking Station of Death!" Even in the midst of it all, you are one funny girl. Hopefully everything goes well with the surgery...you'll be in my thoughts and prayers. And hopefully the three month wait will be immediately followed by pregnancy.

[thalia]

Oh Kath I'm so sorry and so pleased at the same time. Goodbye to the embryo docking station of death. I cannot believe no one had seen it before.

[Anna]

Thank goodness they've found the reason, but sorry it took them this long to find it. I'm glad it's fixable and I hope 2006 turns out to be a very fertile year for you and M. (After the little delay, of course. I'm sending wonderful wishes your way. Say goodbye, Embryo Docking Station of Death! Ha HA!