Broken

For the second time in three months, I have a polyp in my uterus. Am I broken? What the hell?

The presence of a polyp doesn't end my chances of having a baby by any means. I will have to wait until my next cycle begins, and then I'll go in, have another hysteroscopy, where water will be put into my uterus to make certain that it is, in fact, a polyp again. After that, the doctor will give me a relaxant and some lortab, and, while awake, will go digging up in my uterus. Apparently, to some, it's not painful. For me, at least the last time, with enough meds in me to normally make me pass out and snore and wheeze like dying cow, it was like being scraped on the insides with a massive knife. Sccraaaaaaaaaaaaaaape! In there! IN THERE! In the place that supposed to feel good! My husband has to go there next! You can't scrape it up!

So, as one might imagine, I'm not looking forward to this again. Not to mention it puts off my hopes of having a child another couple of months. That's not a big deal. Maybe if I weren't a massive drama queen, whose hopes were once again pinned on another insemination tomorrow to finally get pregnant, I wouldn't have sobbed until my entire couch and three boxes of tissues were thoroughly soaked, but no luck. I couldn't quite convince my dear darling husband that the world was ending. I'll make it through yet another set back. On the bright side, I'll have another month to save a few bucks for the next round or two. Right? There's always a bright side. Right?

*kicks rocks*