It’s nice to be home. It’s been almost a week now, and in four more days, we take a pregnancy test. I’ve had extreme jet lag since I’ve been home, waking up between 3:15-5:15 every morning. I feel like half of me is still walking around Prague, taking pictures all day. I miss the movement. I miss charting out a course in the morning and getting lost in the different neighborhoods never knowing what we will discover next.
It’s good to be home nonetheless. I’ve been filling my sleep deprived self with energy from the ocean. The water and waves have a way with inner peace.
A couple of days ago I had some pains in my lower abdomen. I had been running a slight fever as well so I called my regular physician for an appointment. The nurse said it sounded like complications from IVF and that I should go to the clinic immediately. I then explained that our clinic was in Europe.
They gave me an appointment for later that day, but mentioned they might send me to the emergency room because these things can go wrong, quickly. It felt like the magical Prague bubble had been popped. Any concerns that I had at the clinic in Prague weren’t met with so much alarm.
I tried to remind myself that I was back in the states where emotions tend to run a little higher. I sat in the bathroom with tears running down my face, hands holding my stomach, frustrated with our alarmist nature, and mostly scared of losing my two. I can’t imagine a world so cruel. I shoved all the thoughts out of me and waited for my appointment.
My physician started asking me a barrage of questions about my symptoms and what hormones I had taken in Prague. She phrased some of the questions in the form of, “This is what we do here, I’m not sure how they do it there.” I answered all of her questions and it all seemed to be the same.
I did have this “off” feeling that there was an assumption that we do IVF better here. Since neither of us had experienced IVF both in Prague and the U.S., I found this a little irritating. We ruled out a UTI or bacterial infection and she examined my liver to make sure it hadn’t expanded which would be an indication of a more serious problem. My liver seemed normal size. She explained her concern of an ectopic pregnancy and that I would be in terrible pain if that was the case.
In the end, nothing was wrong and the pain was most likely my ligaments stretching from the hormones I’m taking. I reminded myself that there isn’t a language barrier anymore and doctors like to talk in worst case scenarios. No more strange “think positive” smiles from my Eastern European doctor. Instead, cryptic worried messages from my kind, smart, American doctor.
I sat on the couch when I got home with all of my energy depleted. I told myself that our journey is going to be a long one, and that I’ll listen to my body, ask for advice, and consider the source so I can stay calm and feel vitality.