What up, imaginary baby.
I'm sitting out in the garden for a minute while your dog guards the fence. I have jet lag, but the air is soft, and the rhododendron in the garden is so heavy with pink blooms that it's slumping over like an exhausted, bejeweled showgirl. A hefty one.
That was a terrible metaphor, I'm sorry. It's the jet lag. I already mentioned the jet lag.
Today I met with a very lovely doctor who, wouldn't you know, was in med school at the very hospital where I was treated for my exotic brain parasite all those years ago. Who knew? But I wasn't seeing her for brain things - I was seeing her for you things. Innards were probed. Blood was drawn. Tests are underway. Tomorrow I will go and have some sort of dye or something injected into my uterus so that they can see if there's anything structurally wrong. They told me what I basically already know - 1) I'm barren, clinically speaking. 2) It's either from hormones, structure, or no reason at all. 3) Addressing these questions can be expensive.
Yay.
On a related note, the boat went in the water today, and I have to drop off the sails tomorrow so she can be commissioned. But I digress.
Your would-be father has already said that if I want to quit, I can. My feeling is, I'll get the tests. Right? If there's an easy fix - not easy, but you know, if it's a matter of hormone alchemy, or someone left a sofa blocking my cervix and we need to move it an inch to the left, then so be it. If it's no reason at all, then.... well.
What then?
Honestly, I don't know. It's a hard thing to commit to, given how ambivalent I've been up to this point. It's a hard, hard thing.
The new patient info they gave me included lots of references for social workers and so forth, all of which seemed to assume that this was a very upsetting process. I've been given to understand that I could be feeling angry, or depressed, and that my relationship is probably hanging by a thread. But it's not, imaginary baby. We're having fun. I work hard, and he works hard, and my days are full. I was just in Europe for three weeks, and the boat went in the water today. In twenty minutes I have to be on the phone with LA.
I'd like to have you along for these things, of course. But you know... they're happening to *me.* Right now. This is *my* life, that I'm living. I've worked hard to make it this way.
So. Tomorrow, dye. I could get an infection, so I have to take antibiotics tonight, and tomorrow, and then a fistful of ibuprofen right beforehand to guard against "discomfort." That's a word I have heard a lot, in my medical life - discomfort. Ha.
Anyway. I'll let you know if they found the couch.
