Staggering New Heights of Incompetence...

Oh yes, my friends; no one does incompetence quite like my cervix. I mean, just when you think it can't be any less capable of fulfilling its mundane little job of staying closed for a few months here and there, it surprises you with another leap of can'tdoit-ness.

At my mother's request, I scheduled an appointment with the perinatologist for a second opinion. Oh, did I not mention that my mother actually read this entry? Yeah, she didn't tell me for a couple of weeks, and then when we went down to visit them in early September, she sprung "the talk" on me. Very well played, mom. Well played, indeed. In the end, her request was reasonable, considering my regular OB seems to say one thing and then another. All of it still in the realm of "yes, have another baby", but with varying degrees of enthusiasm and qualifiers, qualifiers, qualifiers.

So this morning I found myself in that familiar office, meeting with that familiar woman again. I like her a lot. I was a little annoyed as I sat in her office waiting for her and could hear her in the hall way trying to decide between Italian and Ranch dressing for her salad, but hey, I guess a woman has to eat. And it was almost noon, so I can't really expect my hypothetical pregnancy and all my neurosis about it to be her top priority until that tough salad dressing decision has been made.

We talked, and she told me most of what my regular OB said, but in a much more confident, encouraging tone. Then it was time to check the old cervix to see what she's been doing with her extended vacation. It wasn't long before we found that she had taken this opportunity to fall deeper into her pattern of general all-around sucking.

Apparently, after a c-section, a cervix can get caught up in the scar tissue and refuse to go back to its intended location. And please, if my cervix is nothing else, it is consistent. If it can find a way to further itself on it's path to complete uselessness, believe you me, it is there. So of course, my cervix is one of "those cervixes". Yeah. It's even smaller and harder to get to now. What a treat.

In her opinion, I am no longer a candidate for a regular old cerclage. She is not confident that she could get to it and perform surgery on it in the old fashioned way. Oh, how I miss the days of being just incompetent enough to require a regular old cerclage. No, next time around, I am going to be the lucky winner of a trans-abdominal cerclage. Woo-freaking-hoo, people!!

If you don't know what "trans" and "abdominal" mean when they are put together, it means they are going to go in through my belly and sew up the very top of my cervix when I am 10-12 weeks pregnant. It calls for 3-4 days in the hospital and then 2-4 weeks on bedrest to recover.

And then? Dare I say it? Normal pregnancy. Yes, the joy of the TAC is that the majority of it's recipients do not experience prolonged stints of bedrest or hospitalization. AND, according to my peri, the risk of a premature delivery is much smaller than with a regular cerclage. I cannot say how much it would mean to Husband and me to have a full-term baby with no NICU time. Since Ethan joined us via that route, I've never allowed myself to imagine a subsequent birth that didn't include putting my foot down and being the crazy mom who runs over the NICU nurses who bull-dozed over me the first time. To get to 37 weeks would be my dream scenario, and my peri seems to think it's within our range of possibilities.

SOOOOOO, I don't want to be a cocky little brat because karma has a way of kicking me in the ass whenever I get too ahead of myself, but TAKE THAT, you puny little cervix! I'm going to make you work no matter how badly you want to lounge around and do nothing. So there.

Oh, and yes, I've already talked to my mom about it this time.