Wait – that’s it?

So I had my hsg on Christmas Eve. And I lived to see Christmas. Here’s what I learned:

1) Infertile women are like snakeskin shoes – you just aren’t going to find two that look exactly the same. A lot – a lot – of women experience incredible pain with the hsg. Some say it’s the worst they’ve ever felt. For me – well, I guess I am one of the lucky ones. Truly, it was no more painful than a pap smear. I mean, uncomfortable, yes. Awkward? Absolutely. Exactly three people were looking at my hoo-ha at the same time, while one of them was messing around with, like, three different objects in there. But I would not call it painful. And I got the all-clear, which was highly reassuring.

(Before you think I’m bragging and harbor any resentment, remember that I have another major problem – anovulation – and blocked tubes were never supposed to be my issue. A secondary problem unearthed by the hsg would make my odds of conceiving a really funny joke, as opposed to the only slightly humorous one they are now.)

2) The Internet is your best friend and your worst enemy. True, it offers quick answers to questions, keeping you from calling your doctor every five minutes (as it is, I think I’m one phone call away from being caller ID-blocked by my infertility doctor’s office). But I think the key is to get in and get out. Spend too much time on there and you get a little nutty. I worked myself into a tizzy reading about all the horror stories out there on the hsg. And the very odd part was that once I started looking I couldn’t stop – the horror stories were like a drug – even when my husband could see what was going on and pleaded with me to stop reading. Set a cut-off time for your online information gathering, lest it become obsessive and kooky.

3) When it comes to information, less is often more. Along the lines of the above, I’m learning that sometimes it really does make sense to just listen to what your doctor tells you and leave it at that. I spent a lot of time thinking and talking and reading about the hsg and in my case, the anticipation was much, much worse than the reality.

4) Ask and ye shall receive. To calm my nerves, I asked my primary care doctor for a xanax prescription prior to the hsg. It was a little embarrassing to admit that I was that worked up about it, but since I knew they wouldn’t be serving cabernet in the radiology waiting room, I felt that going in with an authorized medication in-hand to take the edge off was in order. We should never be ashamed or reluctant to ask for what we need to make this very uncomfortable process more comfortable.

Next up for me: a second ultrasound on New Year’s Eve (continuing my fine tradition of internal examinations on major holidays). My first – 7 a.m. day after Christmas – revealed two 9 mm follicles (of which I could not be prouder). For those of you not versed in all things follicular, this is a small-sized follicle that needs to grow before they’ll give you “trigger” medication (for me, hcg) to release it. They grow about 2 mm per day so by Monday they’re hoping they’ll be about ready.

Until then, I’m rooting for them.

-J