Bringing you up to date on the plumbing

So, if you're running into this blog for the first time, you might want to back up and read from the beginning. Don't worry. There are only a few posts, so I'll just wait for a minute. Go ahead.

::taps fingers::

There! This post will make more sense now.

I mentioned a couple of posts ago that while I was investigating being a single mom through natural means (by "natural," read "pregnancy through sp*erm bank"), the plumbing wasn't looking so good.

So far, I've had one test: an HSG. This was not especially fun, although they did give me a Vali*um, and I have discovered that Vali*um starts working on me in, literally, ten minutes. Also, I then get really chatty at about 15 minutes. They don't mention these things in the "side effects" paperwork you get from the drug store, but my new best friend whatsername at the registration desk can attest to all of the above.

(I suspect I should take V on my next date, and things will be much more entertaining.)

Anyway, the results were not what they were hoping for. Looks like I'm oddly shaped, and possibly not open and welcoming. (Ha!) Now, to further explore/confirm the initial results, I get to have an MRI and a saline ultrasound. (Because the chick with the speculum issues really wants as much action in that area as possible. More V, please.)

I went into this process with two primary thoughts: one, that I was glad I have good health insurance, and that it was early enough in the year that I could get this all done on one deductible. Second, while I was interested in finding out if it was even possible for me to get pregnant, I didn't really care all that much. Adoption continues to be an option, and while I know it's not an easy road for a single woman, what is?

So when I talked to the nurse practitioner about my HSG results, and she said in a nasal voice "Well, it doesn't look so good," I was surprised at how disappointed I was, despite everything my little rational mind-voice had been saying all along. My stomach fell a few miles, my little rational mind-voice hid under the couch, and I felt bluer than I had any right to feel.

I guess no woman likes to hear there's something (potentially) wrong with her. It's ironic, too, that after years of not wanting to get pregnant, I finally think about it and find out it might not have been possible in the first place.

There's testing still to be done. But while I'm normally a glass half-full kind of person, I'm taking the half-empty approach in this case.

I don't think I want to get my hopes up any more at the moment.