Still Here and Dreaming

Still here. Still recovering. Recovery seemed to be going pretty well those first couple days. Then I hit a plateau. Or I stopped taking so many good drugs. Mostly I am fine except for this one small spot where I get these really bad stabbing pains. It started Friday night when I started coughing and with every cough, I felt like my insides were bursting to the outside. Saturday I felt worse than Friday. Sneezing is unbearable and coughing isn't much better. Today I am feeling better than yesterday, but still get those stabbing pains. It is in such an odd place too. My rudimentary horn was removed on the left but the pain is more on my right side. It isn't even by the large incision sight.

Speaking of incisions, my three year olds are obsessed with boo boos like most small children are. They kept asking to see mine when they were still bandaged and were really excited when I got to take the bandages off. They got little kid-friendly digital cameras for Christmas and started taking photos of my boo boos. I thought that probably wasn't a bad idea. So I took one with my camera. I've never had a flat stomach, but the swelling from surgery has made my belly far less flat. So much so, that I never really got a good look at the incision, since it is kind of hidden under the bulging of my belly that I can't see so well. After I took the photo and checked it out to see if it turned out, I was in shock that it actually was so colorful. I was able to check out the incision in a mirror because I was convinced that my camera was making things up. Nope, really was this colorful. And don't you just love my polka dotted underwear?



Tomorrow I am on my own with the kids. Not looking forward to it. A friend brought us dinner tonight which was awesome. I'm on my feet more today, but not really up for being on my feet and doing anything yet. Another friend is bringing dinner tomorrow. Been trying to wrap my head around the emotional aspect of all this. I don't think about it all the time. Usually just when I am falling asleep or in the shower and my mind isn't clouded by other things. Mostly I am scared. Scared of failing. It is odd because going into this whole infertility treatment thing, I wasn't so concerned about failing. I just wanted to try it because I never wanted to look back and wonder if I could have experienced pregnancy and childbirth if only we had tried. I figured if we tried and it didn't work out, then we would be blessed to have the opportunity to adopt child #3. But then the infertility treatments worked... kind of. And now all I can think of is how it just HAS to work again, how all I really want is to get pregnant and give birth and experience parenting a biological child. No longer does it just feel like something I am doing so I don't have regrets. Now I really really want it. It is a scary place to be. It might not ever happen again. We said we would try three cycles and one of those is gone. Two more shots is all we got. Part of me can't wait until we can try again. (Come on HCG levels! Drop so AF can show up!!) Part of me never wants to try again because if we try, there is always the chance we could fail.

I had a dream last night that hopefully is one of future prediction, and not just one grown from hope. I was riding in a rickety old rusted cable car that was pretty much falling apart with my friend who brought me dinner tonight. I suddenly realized that I was 36 weeks pregnant. My pregnancy had been so utterly uneventful that it had basically slipped my mind. I could go into labor at any time and have a perfectly healthy baby and I hadn't even prepared for it. I didn't have anything I needed for a newborn. I told my friend that as soon as we got off the cable car, I was going to Target and started making a list of all the things I would get there. All I remember from the list was that I needed onesies and a breast pump. My friend said I could just use her breast pump. Thanks. As far as what the rickety cable car meant, I think it is a symbol of this journey. The travel was rough and unconventional and not so pretty or fancy, but it would get me to where I was going. That cable car was actually pretty scary, but it did function. And it sure was nice to not be riding in that cable car alone. So, who knows. Maybe it is a sign of good things to come. Maybe next up in big moments of my life is something good, some good news that stays good. Maybe the next big drama will end up not being drama at all but for once will be something totally normal that women all over the world experience. Or maybe it will be a rough ride but it will still end up getting me to where I am supposed to go.