After jumping through hoops and performing miraculous feats for our insurance company, I finally scheduled my HSG (where they shoot dye in the fallopian tubes to check the pipes) with my favorite gyno (Dr. Gwyneth Paltrow—ok, that’s not really her name, but you should see the resemblance) here in Chucktown instead of at the dreaded fertility clinic in Savannah. When I called the nurse, she informed me that my pap came back abnormal again and I have to get another colposcopy (where they take a bite out of the cervix to test for cancerous cells).
Dr. Paltrow has been after me to get a LEEP procedure (where they remove a layer of the cervix), but getting pregnant within a year after that increases the risk of pre-term labor. She knows we’re TTC and previously told me that six months (plus an additional nine if I get knocked up) is the longest I should wait. Now I’m afraid she’s going to pressure me to move it up. On the bright side, I guess I’d be able to drink mimosas again (bad joke).
On another note, I just ovulated (not right this second, but yesterday). Eric and I decided that more (not less) is more, so we did the baby dance everyday for all of the fertile days preceding ovulation as determined by the OV watch. I also decided that ovulating makes me hungrier than usual, as evidenced by the empty pint of Ben and Jerry’s in my trash can (no, that’s not on the fertility diet). It must take a lot of energy to lay that egg!