The Struggle Continues

On March 30th I found myself in the hospital again, it was a planned trip this time, but none the less scary. I had been called just a few weeks before and told that they had a cancellation and wanted to squeeze me in for my surgery. I would have the cyst removed sooner than expected. This idea made me exceptionally happy, this meant that it would be out of the way and Steve and I would be free to try again.
So, on March 30th, we made our way to the hospital, got checked in and Steve and Dayne were allowed to sit with me in the main waiting area, while I waited to be called to the OR waiting area. Dayne was such a good boy, sitting quietly, coloring and chatting with me. He was, of course, the only child, this was not a child friendly place, I had actually been told that I couldn't bring him at all, but they told me it would be ok once I got there.
It was pretty quick, from the time we first arrived until when I was being called to change into a hospital gown, pants, robe and slippers. Dayne was quite upset that they would not allow me to wear the fluffy pink slippers he had picked out for me the day before, but they said they were not allowed in the OR. It was even more quick from time i had changed to when I was hugging Dayne and Steve goodbye and walking to the OR waiting room.
Sitting there, alone, I was scared. Steve could have come, but we had no one to watch Dayne, so alone I sat, and waited. And when it was time to go into the OR, I was terrified. The doctor's, nurses and anesthetist all commented on Alexandra's tattoo, how pretty it was, and it made me happy...and then I was asleep.
As I was waking up, I kept thinking that it had all been a dream and I had not had the surgery yet, was at home in bed, but every time I opened my eyes I heard people saying "Hello Melissa!" and it slowly came to me that I hadn't been dreaming, the surgery had happened, and was done.
Still fuzzy and not quite awake my doctor came to me and told me that everything with removing the cyst had gone very well, but commented that there was a problem with my right tube, the tube where I had just had an ectopic pregnancy. I remember saying OK, but nothing else, I remember wondering what she was talking about, the cyst was on the left, why was she talking about the right side? I couldn't find my voice though, I was still too tired.
After I was back in recovery, I slowly woke up, dozing off often. Steve and Dayne came and went a few times, checking in on me and seeing if it was time for us to go home. Once the doctor was finished with her surgeries for the day, she came down to talk to me about what had happened. By that time I had been asking the nurse what had happened, what happened to my right tube? She read my chart and told me it had been removed, was that why I was there? Why didn't I know? The doctor had the answers I was looking for.
She gently explained to me that she had taken a look at my right tube to see how it was doing and was shocked by how damaged it was. She told me that she had never seen a tube so damaged. It had stretched, had a hole in it, had filled with scar tissue and was substantially larger than it should have been. The likelihood of that tube causing me more ectopic pregnancies was very, very high and she felt that it needed to be removed, or we would end up back in that room for more surgery to remove the tube.
Even though I didn't choose to have the tube removed before I had surgery, I agreed with her decision, if the tube is useless and will only cause more problems, I would much rather have it removed...Still, that puts one more obstacle in my way and I wonder...are we meant to have another child? Is this ever going to happen for us? The question bounces around in my head, if it's not meant to happen, and I never have another child, will I be able to come to a good place about it? I just don't know.