Today was one of those days that started out okay, then slowly went to shit. I had to go for my annual exam today, with my regular twatotologist (as opposed to Dr. Vest). I got there at my appointed time of 12:30, then of course had to wait almost a half hour until they took me back, which I'm used to and was prepared for (it's a very large practice and one of the doctors is on maternity leave). What I wasn't prepared for is the 8 or so pregnant women that were sitting there for their appointments or ultrasounds. And the pregnant nurse. And the pregnant woman who brought in lunch for the staff. You get the picture.
I had to sit there and try to keep it together, when all I wanted to do is weep. Thank God for the nurse who came to get me, or else I would have probably left. So I go in, give my pee sample, get my blood pressure checked (good) and was weighed (bad, REALLY bad). Then I got to change into my lovely open-in-the-front robe and my paper blanket, was given a magazine, and waited. And waited. Urgh.
Finally my gyno came in, full of apologies. He must have been on call last night, because he looked pretty tired, but was very nice, nonetheless. Part of the slowness is that they're converting their charts over from paper to computer, so he had a tablet that he was entering my information on. Of course, the first thing that he asked was whether I ever saw Dr. Vest, so I gave him the synopsis of what's happened since last year (all of this is while I'm getting the exam), so we talked a little bit about the whole mess. He was pleased to hear that I like Dr. Vest and that I'm comfortable with him. And, that was it. I got to go home.
And I cried all the way home. It just got to me-having to sit there with all those pregnant women, to be there for an annual exam when I should have been there for my first prenatal appointment, to have to talk about the miscarriage and infertility, and to have to walk out of there, flat-bellied, in front of all those swollen happy women. It was just so depressing.
Then I got to thinking about some stuff that happened yesterday. I had to go back to school to do some stuff, and I saw people, and of course they asked questions (there's one teacher there who had some problems who is now pregnant, and due in March) and they all said the same thing: "It will happen". And, while I was there, one of the aides who is a busybody had to tell me that another teacher is pregnant, and is leaving in December (her third child). Another blow.
So, then the anger kicked in (ah, yes, I've been waiting for you-where've you been?)-I wanted to scream at these people "HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW THAT IT WILL HAPPEN?? " I mean, really-are you psychic, do you have a personal hotline to God, or something? Shit, it's better to say nothing at all, that's the least fucking comforting thing that you can say. And, what the FUCK-why tell me that someone's pregnant for the third time when you KNOW that I can't even manage to have my first (and even hold on to my first, as a matter of fact). Then, let's add having to see more pregnant women waddling around every fucking day-is God trying to rub it in my face or something!? Does He want me to have a nervous breakdown? Is it my lot to become an embittered, barren woman?
I just feel so cheated and angry-why let me get pregnant, then take it all away from me? What's the purpose of that.......where's the lesson I'm supposed to learn? Is it not to expect anything, then that way if it happens, I'll be even more grateful? Trust me, Lord, you won't believe how happy and grateful I'd be, if only You'd let me even get to experience it.
I hate feeling so inadequate, and feeling that everyone can see it too, every time they see my still (sort of) concave(ish) stomach. I hate seeing pregnant women every place I go, reminding me of what I so desperately want and can't have.
I just hate it............I hate the whole fucking shitty situation. It sucks.