I’m redressed, sitting on the exam table, swinging my legs and trying to tune out the conversation with the doctor next door. The in-house music not yet permeating my brain. I’m thinking about the ultrasound. How the technician sent me out of the room to ‘finish up’ writing the notes on it. How weird it looked, how she put a ‘box’ around an odd lump in the womb. She made measurements of it with the computer from several different angles. I’m still sore from the huge inter-va*inal wand the technician use to scan my uterus and ovaries. She’d noted that my endometrium was irregular on the screen. Then sent me out. The lump…I start to worry all over again.
Then the song filters through ‘only good diiiiiiiie young, only the good die young’… I’m alternately bemused and wonder if it’s a sign. Conversation about cribs and then the steady whoosh whoosh whoosh of the doppler fade into my ears from the next room. My eyes well with tears. Will I EVER hear that sound again? Then the baby’s heart beat thumps. My ears close, I’ve swallowed the tears so hard that my senses refuse to operate.
I think about my kids, the likelihood that they’re giving my husband grief out in the truck, where they’re staying both to avoid the germ-infested toys and also my own grief. My husband, his smile, his voice. How my kids have learned to play together a little bit, how much joy they bring to my life… ‘diiiiie young’.
I hear the tech put the photos up on my chart. Lump. What is it? Surely it’s nothing? A few moments later, my doctor ruffles them, murmurs… and taps on the door.
Her news fills me with relief, but more questions and mounting dread. Yes, I WILL have to have surgery, and soon. No, it’s not cancer, at least, most likely not. More than likely, baby #3 has decided not to fully leave and I need a D&C — 5 months of bleeding later. I have to have anesthesia and pump and dump possibly for 24 hours. Cranky toddler, annoying pump. Surgery has risks, nicking the bladder (oh Lord, the catheter!) and the aorta. The AORTA people. I know it’s unlikely. I’m not nearly as upset about a 15 minute surgery (which I could have had in September and been done with by now) as cancer, but it’s still surgery.
In other news, we refinanced our house. Between that and changing insurance, we should have about 400 extra a month. Or I should say, 400 back, as our mortgage payment kept growing. Apparently our tax burden was greatly underestimated by our first lender and our insurance, well let’s say it was OUTRAGEOUSLY high. Our payment kept creeping up and up. So now, we’re 3 years into the old mortgage, but starting over. Our rate is nearly half of what it was. We’ll only have half the interest burden as a consequence as well. AND we don’t have a mortgage payment for 2 months. My husband will be getting a nice bonus, and it is almost raise time and tax time, all of which should net us some cash. Hopefully all of this combined will allow us to completely eliminate our credit card debt. If that is the case, we can really start paying on our regular bills and get those paid down as well. Our minds to God’s plan, perhaps? This is a far cry from the feeling from the end of 2012.
All of these things have certainly brightened my mood. Winter, and the year anniversary of the rollover accident, plus the other stresses have taken a big toll on my sanity. I would wake up, and then not be able to fall back to sleep, with these things all weighing on my mind. I’d be thinking about the worries and then the kids would do something completely awesome. My eyes would leak. Happy, sad, hard to tell. Perhaps just the fact that I was only sleeping 4 hours a night. I just know that 2013? It’s gotta be better than 2o12. If we work at it, with a little bit of luck thrown in… maybe we’ll be saying hello to pregnancy #4 by Christmas?
Life happens. I wouldn’t trade my wonderful,
annoying, loving, hateful, sweet, sassy, happy, cranky, blissful family for anything. not a million dollars, not a fabulous career, or fame, or even world dominion. It wouldn’t matter that in dominating the world I could get my family back, the fact that I would trade them would be treason. There are ups and downs, and we’ve had our share of both. What really counts is that we have each other. Love.