The Great Lesson of My Life

When I was a kid one of the best places in the world was my parent’s bed, especially when it was early in the morning and still warm from their body heat and the pillows still smelled of them- it felt like the safest place in the world. I think about being a kid a lot lately and how different it is now to be an adult. . . an adult who wants kids of her own. The urge to be a mom is strong in me and it rises up in my throat all the time. I try to swallow it down and wait.

Wait. Wait & see.

Yesterday I had my first pap smear appointment since my cancer surgeries this past summer. I had put off thinking about what it all meant up until this week when the anxiety set in. I mean, I was thinking about it but in that back-of-the-mind sort of way. I was a bundle of nerves walking into the doctor’s office and as I checked in at the desk I overheard the receptionist explain to another patient that my, apparently our, doctor was going to be on maternity leave. I tried to shake off my feelings. It’s not that I don’t like pregnant women- quite the contrary! I’m just so incredibly envious. And to face my visibly pregnant doctor who eradicated the cervical cancer growing inside of me and who just might deliver the news that we may or may not have the chance to have our own child was a bit much for me that morning when I was all jumbled up with my emotions. But she’s lovely and kind and we shared congratulations- her to me on my marriage, me to her on her pregnancy.

See? This is fine. It’s manageable. I can do this.

After the exam where she said everything looked good, we talked about what’s next. Within a week’s time we’ll have the results of the pap. We are hoping for normal test results to the pap and the HPV test. Apparently the surgeries could have rid me of HPV which I didn’t know was possible. If both tests come back normal we’ll likely get the go ahead to try to conceive. If one or both of the tests comes back abnormal, I’ll have to go back in for another colposcopy (where they look at the cells of my cervix with a microscope & swab anything suspicious) and we’ll see what they find.

All there is to do now is wait some more. Wait and worry. Wait and hope. Wait and wonder. I have never been more acutely aware that the great lesson of my life is patience. To lean into the waiting and the wanting and the wondering. To trust the process and let hope buoy me when I feel myself spiraling into what ifs and worry.

It’s such a strange experiences, to take a test that will direct the next move you make. That so much can weigh on what amounts to a small plastic cup filled with a modicum of your bodily fluid. For now I’m moving through the feelings, talking out our options with Mr. Darcy, researching OBGYN doctors, and taking my basal temperature. . . just in cases.

Maybe we’ll have a Christmas miracle?

30 thoughts on “The Great Lesson of My Life

  1. I swear, this year has been a full-on baby parade in my world. And while it is not at all the same as your situation, I feel like my life is on hold in a lot of ways beyond my control right now. P lost his job in August, and while we would like to move forward with next steps in our relationship, nothing is on the table until he is employed full time again. It is very frustrating at times, because WE are so ready to move forward but life is not. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ I can’t tell my biological clock to snooze because the timing is bad.
    I will hope for a Christmas miracle. There has definitely been a lot of fairy baby dust in my circle lately!

  2. I had a scare in the early spring (everythingallatonceomg) and finding you & your blog has made me feel โ€˜normalโ€™? If it can be described as such.
    Ladyparts, UGH. AmIright?
    I am pulling for you!!!!
    I think nowโ€™s a good time to share a favorite quote of mine:: โ€œPatience protects us from being discouraged.โ€ {From my Dalai Lama rip-a-day calendar last year.}
    Lots of Love.

  3. The first time I realized how much waiting goes on with MAJOR health stuff was when my grandfather had lung cancer. They’d go months between tests or they’d order a test and he’d have to wait weeks to schedule it. It seemed so counter-intuitive that you have this thing in your body that you want out, but you have to wait to do it. Glad to see you’re leaning into this process instead of fighting it. I’ll be thinking of you over the next week and jumping on that bandwagon full of hope!

  4. I can’t think of anyone more deserving of a Christmas miracle than the two of you. It’s a time of magic, it’s a time for miracles it’s a time of belief. Prayer worked last time. We’re all praying for you and sending special Christmas mojo.

    Have a wonderful holiday xo

  5. Patience has been a lesson I’ve had to relearn time and time again. It seems just as you get the hang of it, you don’t need it as much and when you do need it, you must relearn it. I am sincerely hoping for the best for you and Mr. Darcy.

  6. Gosh, this sure is a test in patience. Just by doing the best you can, each day, that’s wonderful. I’m keeping you in my thoughts and hoping for some good news coming your way soon.

  7. Ooo! I hope you do have a Christmas Miracle! And I have to thank you SO MUCH for letting us in to your life in this vulnerable time and sharing this vaulable lesson in patience. Real patience over real issues. This is putting my stupid crap in to perspective ๐Ÿ™‚

  8. I cannot claim to know how you feel right now, going through this lesson. But as someone going through the lesson of my life now (faith? believing in miracles, maybe?) know that I’m thinking of you and with you. And I believe we’ll both be celebrating getting through these moments with joy one day down the road.

  9. OMG yes, the waiting game… the wondering and hoping… it’s the worst. But I firmly believe that everything will be ok for you guys. What a heart-wrenching experience you had this year, Sizz. Here’s wishing for the Christmas miracle!

  10. I believe in miracles!! I’m in my own waiting game…I’m pregnant but she’s trying to come out too early. I too am working on my patience and my belief that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to–maybe even better than I imagined–in the face of scary things with no real answers.

  11. I was so jealous of everyone who got pregnant before me! I know how you feel. I hope it all goes well and you get to have a baby. It took us six months to get pregnant, my doctor told me the average is twelve months. Waiting is hard. Have as much sex as you can, no matter what the outcome. xox

  12. I’m praying for the best results possible. And for the baby making to begin soon. ๐Ÿ˜‰

    I went in for a 3 month follow up to my biopsy today. There has been no growth, which is incredible news. I hope that you receive the same positive news in a week. XO

  13. I laid in bed this morning and read this and thought about you and Mr. D and how much I care about you and how much love you have to share with a baby or four. I also thought about one of the difficult things I know about life, and that is that we don’t always get what we want; the good things that “should” happen don’t always happen. Knowing all of those things, I just sent up some prayers and put all the love I possibly could “out there” in the world. All of that to say – I love you very much. xoxo

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