Today I avoided a phone call from the Doctors surgery. This involved wrestling a toddler to stop him answering the phone but I decided I didn't want to talk to them. Initially I didn't know why but as I put Joseph down for his nap a couple of hours later it dawned on me. As I stroked his little ginger head and wished him a peaceful sleep I thought about what we had been through to have him.
The two laparoscopy and dyes, the numerous blood tests, the trips to the hospital, the dieting, the numerous people looking up at my front bottom, followed by a difficult birth, have all taken it out of me. I really don't know if I have the physical and emotional strength to go through it again.
Deep down I hoped I wouldn't have to. I hoped second time around that things would be easier but I'm fooling myself with that hope. My medical problems are not going to be solved by magic. Nor have they been solved by having a baby. Maybe I have been swept up in other peoples reassurances and positive comments. It might be easier this time. You might be fixed.
No. I am not fixed. No. It won't be easier this time.
The last few months have told me that.
After a round of blood tests, examinations and scans the problem has reared its ugly head again. Just as we have finally decided to try to add another hobbit sized person to our gang there's an endometriosis shaped spanner in the works.
The last couple of months have been incredibly hard and having become a regular again at the Doctors I am forced to realise the path to have another child is yet again not going to be an easy one and avoiding the calls from the Doctors to arrange blood tests is not going to get us anywhere. I am just avoiding the inevitable.
I have already called them back and I will have the tests done.
My little ginger star needs a seesaw buddy after all.
Mummy Snowy Owl
x
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