***Disclaimer: if you are squeemish at all about gynocology-related topics, you might not want to read the first part of this post.***
I had a horrible dream last night. Wait, let me back up a bit…it all started about 48 hours ago at 5 days past ovulation (DPO for those not up on all the trying-to-conceive acronyms). I have been remarkably not going crazy this cycle for the most part, up until 5DPO. Of course I knew it was too early to know much of anything, and even feeling disheartened from all the sneezing, sniffling, coughing and stuffiness I had been experiencing as a result of this nasty infection I’m incubating. But still, an innocent trip to the bathroom resulted in a minor gleefull freak-out when a tiny pink smear appeared in my Hanky Pankys….could it be implantation spotting?? Quick, Google, tell me! Dear Google revealed that indeed it was too early (general implantation window is 6-12 days more likely to be 8-10 days). But still, it was late and it was almost 6DPO and hey, I could be a freak of nature, right? And spot early early? Right? No. And that makes a big fat ugly no for days 6 and now 7. And I have traced the source of the pink dot back to the fuzz from the pink shirt I happened to be wearing that day that somehow migrated into my underwear.
But, that was not the end of the pink dot, at least in the psychological sense. Oh no. Pink dot reared its head again in my dreams, this time disguised as a severe gynocological problem. I dreamed that had had some implantation spotting, and knew that I had a few days more before I could test but was excited about the possibility of being pregnant. Logically I decide taking a bath was a good idea right at that moment (logic works so strangely in dreams…) and whilst in the bath daydreaming (in my dream) about my little possible embryo, I notice a thin stream of VERY RED blood in the water. This was CERTAINLY NOT implantation spotting. Mr.K urges me to go to the doc and get checked out. Next thing I know I am at the OB’s office telling them what happened, and without a word the doc (who looks remarkably like Rosie O’Donnell, but not funny) pulls out two long steel sticks with a looped section on the end, vaguely reminiscent of either one of those tongue scrapers or maybe a giant sewing needle. I flip out right there. The doc tells me she has to scrape some cells from my cervix to figure out why I’m bleeding at this stage of my cycle. Skeptical, I ask why my cervix? Shouldn’t the bleeding be coming from my uterus? And isn’t that the type of medical instrument that you might use to perform an abortion? She doesn’t answer my questions, just tells me that it is going to hurt – a lot. She looks at her nurse sidekick and they both nod knowingly. All of a sudden I realize that they are NOT going to scrape my cervix. I carefully consider the facts in front of me (here goes that dream logic again): #1) If I am bleeding, it is most certainly coming from my uterus. #2) those metal sticks are WAY too long to be used just on my cervix – the length can only mean that they are meant to probe my uterus. #3) If #1 and #2 are true, then the doctor is lying to me, and they are actually going to scrape my damn uterus, not my cervix. #4) I didn’t see any needles or anesthesiologists nearby, so this means that they are going to do this to me without drugging me and without dialating my cervix, and #5) Scraping my uterus’ lining means that if there is an embryo in there, it may get scraped out, and OMG WTF??? They are about to perform an abortion on me, oh dear God in heaven…
Thankfully, I woke up before I had a chance to flee in the dream. And I could not get back to sleep. And, WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY does this mean?? Are you kidding me? My first pregnancy dream ever ends up with me being subjected to either an unwilling abortion or a miscarriage? I mean, where is the fairness in that?