The Amazing Human Body

      Today I had a follow up appointment with the orthopedic doctor to check on the progress of my broken toe. They took a few more x-rays and the doctor showed them to me, which I thought was cool. With the image of the previous x-ray still fresh in my mind (with the obviously broken toe), I could see the amazing work my body had done. The break had been shaped like a half ‘w’ with the top ‘v’ tilting in a very abnormal fashion. Now, the top piece (in essence, the bone of my toe) has settled back into the ‘w’ fracture above the joint and it is melding back together nicely. A small fracture is still noticeable, but the doctor had to point it out to me, it was not something that jumped out as being “wrong.” I was simply enthralled to “see” my body in action; knitting back together an injury without any conscientious thought on my part. What an amazing creation!
     Yet, when it comes to infertility, I feel like my body is working against me. My body diligently mends my broken toe, but obstinately refuses to ovulate regularly or to create a new life. While I am grateful for my body’s ability to “fix” itself, I am still frustrated at it’s inability to create something new. Perhaps conception is more complex than sticking a bone back together? I am flabbergasted at the wonderment on one hand and the criticism on the other; two polar opposite emotional responses to the very same body – my own.
     Tomorrow morning, bright and early, I am having the hsg procedure done. I am not looking forward to this because I know it will be uncomfortable. Despite my distaste for the ‘h’ word, I am hoping that the results show nothing is wrong with my fallopian tubes or uterus. I am dreading having a million and one instruments shoved up the whoo-haa, but my degradation has long been surpassed at this point and though I hate it, more and more people are getting up in my “business.” I am sure there are more to come. (My feelings that the modern medical system strips people and women especially of nearly any feeling of privacy or “private parts” seems a rather old-fashioned notion – but it is my opinion and one not likely to change at any point soon).
     These past few days I have been feeling stronger and more like myself, yet there is still a part of me that does not seem to be bounding back. Even to my eyes, there is a sadness about me that seems impermeable. I feel like I have turned a corner somehow and I now find myself in a land devoid of color. Like the opposite of the Wizard of Oz, I have gone from a bright and colorful world to one of differing shades of gray, black, and white. Perhaps this is depression? Perhaps this is another wall I have erected for protection? I can still feel joy and happiness, but it feels more superficial and does not reach down into the core of my being. I do not feel miserable and the heartache has gone back to being tolerable, yet there is an unshakable feeling of being resigned to an undesirable fate. Today I caught myself thinking about this month and mentally calculating when I might ovulate (if I do) and just as quickly as this thought popped into my head, I shot it down. I will not let hope push me down that road of insanity again. I can’t say about next month, but this month there will be no surprise when Aunt Flo comes a-knockin’ because I am not giving myself the chance to “hope” to be pregnant. This is the only way I know how to take a break mentally. Optimistically thinking; I will be able to hold onto my resolve as the month marches on. . . . .