A letter to my uterus

It's a sad state of things when you feel inspired to address one of your organs, as if it would change anything.  Perhaps this is just one of the more strange effects of IF.

Dear uterus,

Your most recent behavior has me rather concerned.  Yes, I understand you have been through a lot with the septum removal.  And I know that balloon which kept you stretched out for four days afterward wasn't pleasant either.  (But it was for your own good—adhesions are the last thing either you or I want.)  On top of that, you were bombarded with high levels of estrogen for three weeks followed by a week and a half of progesterone.  It's enough to make anyone crazy, I know.  Really, I know.

However, all I needed you to do was cooperate like a good little end organ.  In response to the estrogen, you were supposed to produce a nice, thick endometrial lining and then wait for further instruction.  I will concede that you partially obeyed in the growth respect; this last week has made that rather obvious.  But you just couldn't wait until the end of the estrogen prescription—you decided to ramp up the bleeding so it mimicked a period.  Funny, it was right at the time my normal period would have come.  Was that your way of rebelling?  Trying to prove you can dominate over the artificial estrogen?  Was it revenge for how you were treated during and after surgery?

Then when I started progesterone, it appeared you were willing to cooperate after all—the bleeding stopped for a few days.  Perhaps you were temporarily forced into submission.  At that point I was ready to forgive you for jumping the gun during the estrogen treatment.  But that short reprieve from bleeding was just a teaser, right?  You still had to prove you were in charge.  Instead of waiting until AFTER the tenth day of progesterone to start the withdrawal bleed like the doctor said, you decided to start after just the sixth day.  Of course that coincided with date night when I was wearing my favorite skirt—the white one.  You are lucky—very lucky—that I am always prepared with supplies.  (Your behavior during my teenage years has made me forever paranoid.)  I naively assumed that it would be just a little spotting.  But, no, by the next day it was equivalent to period-type flow.  So was the next day.  And the two days after that.  I have to ask:  what is going on?  Why have you chosen to ignore the progesterone?  Did you get sick of being told what to do and decided you had enough?  Must I remind you that you are not the brain, and you don't get to call the shots?

This is really making me question your capabilities.  If I can't trust you to respond appropriately to simple hormone treatments, how can I trust you with bigger, more important functions?  It's time to shape up and take your job seriously.  (Please.)

Sincerely,
polkadot