It had been a week and there wasn’t that reassuring card in the mail. You know, the one after your annual saying everything was normal.
Instead, last week brought a telephone call.
“Is this Jennifer?” inquired the familiar voice of my OBGYN on the other line. I knew. My heart dropped to my stomach and I waited to hear her words.
As I fought back tears, I grabbed a pen and paper so I could write down everything she told me. Even at my worst, I’m a journalist at heart – taking detailed notes so I can tell my husband what I already know.
Dr. W. says that while the endocervical smear (it’s the pipe cleaner used to swab you, always awesome) came back clear, the regular pap showed atypia. Atypia you ask? Well on the spectrum of cervical fuckedupness, it is the lowest level, right next to normal.
Yet it isn’t normal. And I’m still broken.
I feel so foolish for having hope, thinking that we actually were journey toward trying to have a baby. Karma, the Universe, God, whatever, obviously, has other plans. Or I am being perpetually punished for past transgressions, thinking that she-man on light rail wears too orange of lipstick or the horrible past life I must have lived.
And I just want to know why. Why? Why did I get my hopes up? Why did I think that maybe we could get pregnant when we wanted to? Why did I think I would actually have some part of this process be normal? Why can’t I just feel like a whole and complete woman instead of some freak of nature?
I knew our process to getting pregnant wouldn’t be easy. But this was the part of the path I thought would be easiest. I’d never had a negative pap until I jump off the pill and we start planning. Oh we planned. We talked. We even told people of our plans and our talks.
And now they too have hope. Hope that my cervix is perpetually crushing…
It is my life in stirrups. And it’s not even the good kind of stirrups, ones in which they are trying to get me pregnant but rather the dumb your-cervix-is-fucked-up-and-laughing-at-you-type. Honestly, they make them and are used frequently at all my exams.
But right now, even as I bitterly type, I still have a ever-so-small ray of hope within.
Dr. W. said that because it only is atypia that she is fine with us proceeding with IVF, that is if my RE gives the go-ahead. Do you want to guess my thoughts on that happening though?
So now I wait. I wait for word from the RE one way or another. I wait for September for my next pap. I wait for an unknown future.
I never thought I would have such questions over my ability to just try to become pregnant. I’m trying to learn though that I shouldn’t assume anything. You know what they say, it makes an ass out of u [sic] and me. And I am, apparently, a giant ass.
Stupid Nancy Grace. It’s all her fault. Or, at least, it’s the story I’m sticking with now.