I know that it’s common for little girls to want a unicorn, or at the very least a pony for Christmas, but I don’t recall ever being “one of those girls.” Fast forward 20 some years, and I got one anyways.
I headed to the OB for what I thought was my last check up after my ectopic pregnancy early this week. It has been over 3 months since my ectopic was first discovered, and last month, the mass had shrunken by half. I had assumed I’d get the all clear, and we could either resume trying for a baby or at the very least get back to some normalcy.
Half way through the transvaginal ultrasound, the lady, who has come to know more about me than most of my friends due to the pure number of times I’ve seen her, casually mentioned that she believes I have a unicornuate uterus. I caught on immediately, realized that wasn’t a good thing, and continued to press. She tried to then say, “Well, maybe it’s just your fallopian tube still inflamed.”
Yeah, not falling for it lady.
So, she kindly got out all the books and pamphlets in the ultrasound room to show me photos of all the different uterine defects that are possible, reassuring me the whole time that my OB will likely think she’s crazy and that he would be able to give me more information.
The sonogramer immediately walked out to talk to my OB while I got my clothes on. My OB’s nurse met me in the sonogram room to avoid taking me back out to the waiting room and ushered me to the room I would be seen in, letting me know that the doctor would be in after he finished reviewing the photos.
It was a long 20 minutes waiting for my OB.
You know it’s never good when your OB greets you with pamphlets in hand, particularly pamphlets that are titled “Fertility Problems.”
Up until this point, I never considered myself to have “fertility problems.” Sure, I had an ectopic pregnancy a few months back that we are still trying to resolve, but I also have a thriving two and (almost) a half year old at home who was the best surprise gift I’ve ever received.
He began telling me about what was seen on the ultrasound: a potential unicornuate uterus. Basically, a small uterus that has a horn on my left side that may or may not be connected to my fallopian tube.
He tried telling me that it’s not all that uncommon and that babies can still happen, but I had already spent the 20 minutes I waited Googling. It is that uncommon, 1 in 4,000 women, and it does cut my chances of a healthy pregnancy down by about 50%.
He asked questions about my last pregnancy, as he wasn’t the practitioner I was seeing at the time. I reminded him about how I developed preclampsia, but had no other known issues. We got pregnant without trying. I did not have any early labor indications. Auggie was small, but he was healthy, etc.
He drew pictures of what a unicornuate uterus looks like and answered my initial questions.
Then, he recommended a HSG test to finalize the diagnosis of unicornuate uterus, as we need to know what we’re working with if I do fall pregnant again, as ectopics, miscarriage, rupture, and preterm labor are all now more of a threat to any future pregnancies.
The HSG test has to be done during a certain time in your cycle. For me, that time falls on the 27th. So, for Christmas, I’ll be getting a few more items shoved up my who-ha to uncover fertility problems that 3 months ago I would have never imagined possible.
In the midst of all this, I’m finding it difficult to be truly present. Sure, I’ve done all the “Christmas-y” things and baked all the cookies and wrapped presents after presents, but something has just felt kind of, well, Grinch-ish.
I so badly want to enjoy Christmas and my family and feel settled, but something keeps drawing me back to where I would be had that baby landed in the correct place in my uterus. How many presents under our tree would be for the baby-to-be? How happy would Auggie be to know that in a few more months he would have a permanent friend?
Or even to where I would be had I just gotten the “all clear” at the OB this week. To know that I was in control of the timing of trying again. Or at least, not forbidden until we officially diagnose me. At at the very least, not anticipating a very demoralizing, painful test in a few days.
And honestly, I’m just rather pissed.
I want to enjoy my toddler dancing in circles to the Christmas music playing. To be fully present as his eyes light up with joy on Christmas morning. To have more patience as he asks to help with the cookies or the wrapping. To have more energy to take him to see Christmas lights or do more Christmas crafts. I want to be present, but I keep feeling stuck in either the past or the future I dream up. All the while, the now is passing me by. And my baby, my toddler, is experiencing all these new things without me emotionally.
And mostly, I’m pissed because I don’t want to recall the last three months of 2018 (Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas) as that time I had an ectopic pregnancy. Or, that time I found out I have a unicornuate uterus or fertility problems.
I want to remember it as that time Auggie obsessed over trick-or-treating. The time Auggie had his first sleepover with his cousin, or as he says, “his friend.” The time Auggie began to understand the meaning of Christmas. The time Auggie saw the Grinch for the first time. The time when Auggie said “Christmas Eve” like “Crismas-V,” and we all danced in the living room to Christmas music.
I know that there are worse things, and that this test/these past few months are likely a blessing. They mean more likelihood of a healthy pregnancy, they mean being taken seriously by my OB when I say something feels off, and they mean being more thankful when we do finally see a viable pregnancy. Something I took for granted the first time.
Here’s to leaving this ectopic journey in 2018, and entering 2019 grateful for my little family and all that we do have, half a uterus and all.
Also, if you are in need of an OB around the Kansas City area, I cannot begin to tell you how great mine has been. He’s known for delivering as many of his own patients’ babies as he can, he’s called me from his personal phone, on a Saturday night, to tell me my blood test was fine, and he’s never rushed when in the room with me. I’m truly thankful for this ectopic experience for sending me to him.