I have two kids.
That statement in and of itself is not that amazing. Lots of people have two kids. Some people even have more than two (though why they would willingly do that to themselves remains a mystery to me).
But here's the thing... I have two kids. And by all accounts, that shouldn't be. I should not have been able to have one kid, much less two.
Tonight, after finishing another Junie B. Jones at the monsters' bedtime, I started reflecting on my new fertility status. As of last week's surgery, I'm officially sterile. I didn't give too much thought to that before the surgery. I mean, I needed to fix the stuff what was broken, and it's not like we were planning on having any more kids anyway. But now, knowing that I can't physically have any more kids, I think I should feel like something's changed. Something Huge and Important has altered my very nature. Shouldn't I feel different?
Because I don't.
I mean, really, what's changed?
|What's changed? Not alot.|
Infertility has always been my default mental setting. I managed to get pregnant three times and each time, I was pretty darn surprised. I had two healthy babies who have grown into smart, kind, goofy kids. That is more than I ever imagined possible.
I am so freakin' lucky.
Even more so because last week's surgery revealed that one of my Fallopian tubes is the wrong shape. I don't know what shape it is, but it's wrong. I have no idea how that happens, but according to my research, it's an indicator of infertility. How I ever managed to get pregnant with a broken tube and then carry a baby in a broken belly defies all the odds. That it happened twice can only be called a miracle.
|The penguins aren't real. The kids are.|
And so, Nuclear Medicine doctors, when you told me that radiation has the side effect of infertility, this is the reason I was not impressed. Infertility isn't new. You want to get a reaction out of me? Make it so that this radiation treatment finally gives me the ability to shoot webs.