I went back to physical therapy today. I think a regular schedule of physical therapy (twice a week) is going to be challenging for me, but I did it before, so I know I can do it. What frustrates me is that my insurance wants three months of intensive therapy before they will consider my surgery again, and both my surgeon and my physical therapist agree that I absolutely need surgery. I haven't thought about the surgery for a while, probably because the idea still scares me, and I need to face facts. As I've said before, all the physical therapy in the world isn't going to make my disk grow back, and if I don't get the surgery, the stress on the surrounding disks is only going to get worse. And, when I finally get the surgery I need, I will have to start physical therapy all over again. It will take a long time to heal.
The most difficult part of this is that I know I need to put any thoughts of trying for a baby on hold until I am fully recovered from surgery, and that could be over a year. After my physical therapist finished my evaluation, I realized that I am in no shape to be carrying a child right now. My range of motion has again diminished, and my core strength is poor. Adding the strain of a pregnancy is clearly not in my best interest, or in the child's best interest. I suppose I could go ahead with my pregnancy plans and, assuming I got pregnant within a couple of months, put off the back surgery until after I had the baby, but that would come with a whole host of other problems. No, it seems that the most reasonable course of action, for the moment, is to resume "safe sex" until I get my spine sorted out. I can't take any kind of hormonal birth control, but I'm not willing to go back to condoms, so I guess I'll just avoid sex on my fertile days, which I've been keeping track of.
I'm extremely frustrated right now. I had geared myself up, almost a year ago, for the possibility of surgery. I jumped through the required hoops. Then, I was denied. I mentally breathed a sigh of relief, because I am afraid of the procedure, but the result was that I ignored the pain and lapsed on my exercises. (No wonder I haven't felt like doing much.) Then, I had an epiphany that I want to have a baby with Matt, and I further pushed my physical well-being out of my mind. I never discussed my degenerative disk disease at length with my gynecologist, only the medications I was on. I wasn't thinking. Smack. Another reality check.
I suppose all I can do is make a plan. If I want to be healthy for my theoretical child, and I want to have a healthy baby, I need to take care of myself, first. If that means waiting longer, that's what I need to do. But the screech of my biological clock is becoming deafening. I really feel like I don't have a lot of time to waste. At this point, I'd probably be looking at giving birth at the age of 38 or 39, and I am thinking, "Do I really want to be a senior citizen by the time my child graduates high school?" Matt is younger, of course, but I am really feeling my age.
I'm fighting the urge to hate myself. How dare you think you could ever have a baby? How dare you think you could ever be normal? What were you thinking, you idiot!? I feel stupid. I feel disappointed in myself, angry at my body, annoyed at my inconvenient urges and shortening time on this earth. I don't know what else to do but trust in the gods. If it's meant to be, it's meant to be. If not, there's nothing I can do, and I must find other things to be grateful for.
No comments:
Post a Comment