How Did I Get Here?

I’m trying really hard these days to focus my attention forward. It’s not always easy, but I try to focus less on what this latest surgery means for me overall and focus more on what it means for me moving forward. Yes, it takes away my ability to get pregnant on my own, but it also opens up the option for a successful IVF. And that is where I try to keep my focus.

But there are days where that’s easier said than done. And there really is no telling what will be the trigger for those emotions to pop up. Today was one I wasn’t expecting.

I’ve been wearing dresses all week to work. I have 3 incisions from last Friday’s surgery (one in my belly button, and one on each side a few inches out and a little below my belly button). These incisions are still pretty painful, making sweatpants and dresses (really anything that doesn’t put pressure on my incisions) as my only clothing options. I’m not usually a dress wearer, so I understand this probably seems weird to people who don’t read this blog.

I’ve seen the suspicious looks on my dress attire, and I’m sure that I’ve caused some discussion. It wasn’t bothering me too much until today. As I was running off to a presentation, a friend (who I obviously haven’t caught up with in a while) stopped me to ask me if I was pregnant. I get the suspicion – I’m wearing a dress, I’m still bloated from my surgery, and I’m not able to work out (generally because of countless treatments, but right now because until yesterday rising from a seated position and vice versa was still incredibly painful).

I know she didn’t mean anything cruel or mean in the question – she was simply hopeful that all of our treatments and pain were somehow paying off.  No matter the intention, it was still a question that felt like a punch in the gut. I already don’t feel great about my shape these days, so basically being told that I looked pregnant wasn’t an uplifting thought for my self-esteem. And I also had to respond “no” to a question that I desperately want to answer “yes.”

As I told a coworker what happened, she tried (in vain) to get me to see the positive in the situation. Again, well meaning, but difficult for me to do. So she said “maybe you are pregnant and don’t know it!” I had to respond that it was physically impossible for that to happen – no amount of miracle can make my tubes grow back.

As I drove home and thought about my day, I was struck by the question “how did I get here?” How did my life come to this in 2 short years? Knowing that I’ll never be “pregnant and not know it” and where a well meaning question can stop me in my tracks? The series of unusual events and rare diagnoses that have led me to this point is pretty mind-numbing when you stop and think about it.

And so, I’m trying to look forward, but there are still days when I have to stop and wonder. How did my life become this?