Validation from a Doctor

I am so over my nonreproductive system. So so so over it.

I had to go in for an in-office procedure yesterday, just like I had to do only a year ago.

I hate it. Not my body necessarily. I am continually working on learning to appreciate everything I have. My body gets me from place to place and lets me go to work and do my job and enjoy my hobbies and eat and sleep and live my life.

But I hate my nonreproductive system. What has it ever done for me?

Emotional periods in my teens, a large ovarian cyst in my 20s, infertility in my 30s, and now I'm getting abnormal results from my annual exam two years in a row (with my family's medical history putting me higher at risk for something untreatable)? So. Freaking. Over. It.

*****


So I go in for my procedure, get prepped by the nurse, the doctor walked in to greet me, and the first thing I said was, "Hi. When can I get a hysterectomy?"

And to my complete surprise the first thing she said was, "Hi. Let's take care of this today and then we can schedule a consultation to discuss it."

Immediately, I said, "Are you serious?? I really wasn't expecting that. I know it can be hard to get that procedure approved by doctors and insurance."

She said, "Normally I wouldn't. But I read your chart. You've been through enough."


"You've been through enough."


***

Thank you. Thank you, Dr. B, for the empathy, for the surgery approval, and mostly for the validation. It's nice to hear it from someone who is a medical professional. It's nice to hear it from someone in real life. It's nice to hear it from someone other than myself.

Parent Teacher Conferences

This week I had my first round of parent teacher conferences for the school year. The first significant fact: this was my first round of conferences with parents after knowing I will never have children. The second significant fact: I don't really have much to say about it all. Ha!

I met with parents. I listened to their concerns and celebrations. I did my best to make them feel supported and to make them feel confident in the education their child was receiving from me. And...

That's about it. There wasn't much else to it.

No sadness, no comments, no longing, no stinging, no feelings of loss or shame or embarrassment because I don't have children. (I have felt all of these things, and many more, throughout the years.)

I love their kids. And I work with a lot of reluctant learners and they have a lot of undesirable behaviors. And I genuinely like every one of my students. It's awesome. I spend all day with them. And then I go home. I honestly love it.

I write this post to celebrate my progress, and I write this post to share my joy. But ultimately, I write this post to give hope to women who are where I was just three years ago. (There's no way I would've believed that MY life could get better just five years ago, but I would've found comfort in reading that some other woman's life got better at least.)

He Said It

I knew going back to work, especially in a school, would provide plenty of blog material...

Take one of my lunch periods this past week, for example.

I enjoy eating lunch with four other teachers in the teacher's lounge. Unlike other schools where I have worked, this campus has yet to have any of the clique-y behavior that I've experienced in the past. It is really refreshing. So I look forward to lunch, where I can see four friendly faces, touch base about students, and enjoy some conversation with fellow adults.

Last week one of the teachers was apologizing that she had to leave early or arrive late (I forget which) because she was taking one of her kids to take his driving test to get his driver's license. She was saying how she hates to miss work, that she wished it wasn't so hard trying to fit in necessary errands around the work schedule.

No one was complaining. Not her and not any of the other teachers. It was just a simple conversation about trying to fit everything one needs to get done into the day.

But... And this is what cracked me up... And there was no negativity in the room or in anyone's tone or anything...

But one of the other teachers is a first year teacher, a young guy who recently graduated from college and is single with no kids. And he said something I've never heard said out loud before.

He said, "Well, at least you have an excuse to take a little break out of your regular day. What am I supposed to do? Call in and say I have to stay home to water my plants today??"

And everyone laughed. Hahaha. Like I said, it's a good lunch group. But the infertile part of me especially enjoyed that comment. It was said so honestly and freely and it was received so well.

Sometimes Sad Happens

Sometimes I get sad. Like today. When an innocent comment was made to me by a co-worker.

I didn't realize it in the moment. I mean, I heard the comment and brushed it off. I've grown used to people taking their fertility for granted. But then the rest of my day very slowly spiraled down.

I've cried twice. I've been so sad. It's not just what I lost; it's what I never had. It's the lack of memories and the lack of experiences. Simple things that other people take for granted. Like buying new shoes for their kids.

I've spent the latter half of the day in a funk. I've been touchy and snappy. I tried analyzing the funk. I tried just observing it. Then I went back to analyzing it. Then I took a break.

And then it rose to the surface--when the day changed for me. I stayed late to get some help from a co-worker who didn't end up being able to help me. So it was a bit of wasted time after an already long day and, on top of it, I now realize that she is a Mommy, a woman who prattles on about her kids and all of the privileged problems that come with having children.

Okay.
Realized and noted.
This kind, wants-to-be-helpful woman is not who I need to spend any extra time with.

Good to know. I'm low on emotional resources, and it's okay that I got so sad today.
Sometimes it happens.