Waiting

Always, always waiting.

Life is going on: everyday activities are not on hold. But right now, my life seems to be a series of waiting for the next thing. Waiting for my stupid period, waiting for a test, waiting for test results, waiting for another test, waiting for more test results and waiting to hear what test I'll have next.

Hope has been a constant ebb and flow. Every fresh surge of hope starts to fade before I'm done waiting for the next thing. I'm hoping for the hope surge that lasts nine months and is only the beginning.

I'm getting used to this process. I've come to assume lots of things. For one thing, I assumed I would not get straight answers quickly. I still assume straight answers will be hard to come by for a few months. I assume I'll have to ask questions and be insistent about what I know in order to keep moving forward. I assume I'll be put through more diagnostic tests before the word "surgery" is even mentioned by the medical professionals. And, of course and above all, I assume there will be much more waiting.

I'm waiting for my doctor to call me with results from the ultrasound. I hope she calls me soon and that she is knowledgeable about my problem. I assume that MRI is up next. I'll wait for that test. I hope it shows that I have only a septum and an otherwise normal uterus. I assume that no matter the outcome, I'll have to wait several weeks or months for treatment/surgery. I hope diagnosis/treatment/surgery is successful. I assume that I'll be able to have kids in the future. I hope I don't lose any more babies....

It doesn't end.