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?