More Tests

I am back from the doctor’s.  Dr. D, the woman who performed my D&C, examined me and said everything looks and feels normal. That’s the good news.

The bad news is that I still don’t know why I haven’t yet had a period. Dr. D asked me if my cycle has ever acted up like this before — like due to travel or illness. The answer is, No. Never. Even after I slipped and my wrist was torn to shred by a pane of glass, twenty-three stitches later, Aunt Flo paid me her visit. (I remember weeping furiously for losing yet more blood I felt I couldn’t spare.)

So, time to test the level of hormones in my blood. I gave four vials to test my thyroid stimulating hormone, free thyroxine, prolactin, follicle stimulating hormone, estradiol, and hCG levels. I should get the results back tomorrow. If they are low, then the waiting game continues. If my hormone levels are normal, then I have to have a transvaginal and abdominal ultrasound to check the lining of my uterus.

If that comes back as normal then I’ll have to have a hysterosalpingogram as there’s the possibility that scar tissue from the surgery is causing a blockage. Dr. D said it was unlikely (statistically, and because my surgery was so short) but I’m still a little nervous. After all, I keep falling into shitty statistics, what’s to stop falling into this one?

I got the impression that Dr. D thinks the most likely explanation for the absence of my period is stress. I have to make a concerted effort to relax, I guess. I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that, though, when I am still so traumatized by my loss, and by the thought of what I’m going to have to put up with this summer–the biggest part of which is my SIL. Even now, hearing her name is enough to make me stop smiling. Isn’t that awful?

I bit my lower lip and nodded in silent acknowledgement. I cried all the way home in the car, and back home I made a beeline for my bed where I collapsed into a seething saline puddle.

The voice in my head screams about how unfair this all is. I’m done being tested! I’m done being patient! I’ve been so fucking patient for so fucking long. I waited years to even start trying!  And I’ve been dealing with this miscarriage bullshit for almost three months! Three months, and still no resolution! By the time my cycle returns and two have passed, it will be 6 months before I will be able to start trying again! Six months, to only be starting not even at square one again, but minus square one!!!

I feel like smashing my fists into the wall, but don’t. So I grip the bed and DH cuddles me and together, each in our own way, we cry ourselves to sleep.