Monday, August 16, 2004

Same Old Argument

My dog is sick. I have an appointment for her this afternoon. I found out that the sample my husband collected from her last night is no good because we didn't keep it in the refrigerator. Any wonder why? So this morning I found myself following her around in the yard while holding an empty pickle jar under her behind. Every time she tried to pee, she'd see what I was doing, and try to walk away from me to where it would be a little more private. She'd start to squat, but there I would be again. Eventually, I had to pretend like I wasn't watching, then quickly put the pickle jar under the stream. I knew she wouldn't be able to stop midway. That would take some extraordinary kegel muscles for a dog. Sure enough, her sample has blood clots in it. Now the jar is triple bagged and sitting in my frigerator. I hope I got all the pickle juice remains washed out. They could diagnose her with a kosher UTI.

I've been thinking about the post at Grrl's spot. I missed all the comments espousing how one should or should not complain about pregnancy or pregnancy symptoms. Of course I must give my opinion. If I don't it will just bury itself inside me and spurt out my mouth to the unsuspecting vet this afternoon.

I'm not a particular fan of pregnant women or women who have been pregnant. Sure, there are a few I can tolerate. I was even pregnant once. But, the pain of infertility and fear of never having a child is not something you just forget as soon as you have a second line. It burns into your soul, leaving painful scars that never heal. Actually, they get aggravated every time another unwanted child is born, or a pregnant woman tells me she's tired of being pregnant, or a woman who's had a child complains that being pregnant is not that important.

My own pregnany seemed to fly by. Sure, I was anemic during the whole thing that made me very very tired, but I didn't care. I was simply surprised every day that I woke up and was still pregnant. I couldn't believe for a minute that everything was going to be okay and that I would actually get a child out of it. How could that be? Did the stork get the wrong address and misdirect his package? I was constantly grateful and constantly worried. I knew there were those who had gone through more than my 3 IUIs that I did for my first, and still weren't pregnant. I felt guilt for them, although guilt did nothing since I don't believe in pregnancy dust (having been dusted so many times over so many years without any resulting pregnancy, just constant need for Pledge.) I kept feeling that they could be me or I could be them.

During the 6th month, I almost lost her and it seemed to confirm all my fears. But, everytime she moved or she kicked, or I dressed myself in maternity clothes, I stopped, rubbed my stomach and smiled. Although my pregnancy wasn't "perfect", I knew the alternative was not to be pregnant so I was willing to take whatever it wanted to dish out. I had made that agreement, that I wouldn't complain and never ask for more if only I could have this one thing. A baby. (Also, I did renege and ask for more by trying for a second. I didn't so much lie as love every minute of it that I became addicted to that joy.)

The birth was horrendous. It was the only time that I didn't care anymore. I tried to figure out how I could gather my strength to get out of bed, pick up the chair, throw it through the window so I could jump out. I would have if only the contractions would have relented for a second. I forgot about the baby. It was only about the pain. Later that night, she was born by c-section (see, they could have given me the epidural all along!). I saw her little pissed off face for the first time and I smiled again. I did not forget the pain, nor could I ever. I was just glad it was behind me and I could get back to the heart of the matter.

Was she worth it? Sure, but if I had to go through that birth again I would never have tried to get pregnant again. It's easier for me to say because I had my baby. My reassurance to try again has been that next time I could go straight to c-section.

Does it concern me that I will never have a baby the "real" way or the natural way? No. Heck no! I'm choosing c-section not a VBAC so that I can avoid that horrible pain. You can keep it! Besides, if I had such a desire to have a "natural" baby, I guess I wouldn't have any babies since I need drugs and procedures to conceive. Do I wish I had regular labors with quick epidurals? Sure, why not but I would much rather have the regular conceptions.

It brings back that whole discussion of primary versus secondary infertility. Obviously primary is much, much worse. No argument there. I've been there. I remember. I do. If I couldn't conceive the second time, the alternative was just to keep what I have and spoil her even worse. If I couldn't conceive the first time... I didn't know what was next. Adoption? I don't know. It was a dark. Very, very dark. A fear with no name. It was real, and I narrowly escaped.

So here I am with my two lines. I will probably complain, but my complaints are footnotes to my overwhelming feeling that I narrowly passed again. I am grateful. How many times have I said that word since I peed hot? Not enough. Never enough. I know. When I wasn't pregnant, I knew that pregnant women weren't grateful enough. I knew it from their comments to me on their statements that pregnancy was something to avoid, their inability to give up smoking, their complaints on regular pregnancy symptoms, and just the damn smirk on their face as they walk down the street in their new Pea in the Pod outfit rubbing their bellies and planning their nurseries.

Okay, maybe that last part is still some of my residual bitterness bubbling up. It never goes away you know. I will always assume that every other pregnant woman got there for free, on her own or on accident, in one or two tries, with a beautiful surprise story for how they told their partner. It had nothing to do with dildo-cams or swollen ovaries or injections or handing over their life savings for a lottery ticket. Even my best friend said that if I won, I wouldn't get a million dollars, just be pregnant. Yep, just be pregnant. Doesn't that sound wonderful?

3 Comments:

Blogger amanda said...

I sure hope your doggy is feeling better soon. I really don't have the energy today to go into all of the other stuff (sometimes it's all too much, ya know?), but I'll be thinking good thoughts for you and your dog as you make your way to the vet's office.

1:56 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thanks for your comment on my site (the rabbit lived). I've actually been following along with your blog for a while, and I've been combing it lately for what symptoms you're experiencing. My due date is 4/15.

The down side to having conceived naturally is that I'm not closely monitored...they just assume everything is fine. I would love an ultrasound to confirm the heartbeat, but no go. I have to wait until I'm about 9.5 weeks when we can hear it on doppler. And as much as that thought drives me insane, the only way I will get an ultrasound sooner is if something is wrong. It's a catch-22, I guess.

The urine has to be refrigerated because cells break down and crystals can form after collection, which would give you an incorrect diagnosis. Fresher is better.

Christine

7:41 PM  
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9:51 AM  

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