Reality

For the last few months I've had a sneaking suspicion that for us, having a baby is just not going to be easy. I held on tight to the hope that maybe this will be IT. As every month would pass I could see the calendar pages flipping in my mind, slowly ticking the time away. I spoke to my doctor in September and she said, "If you aren't pregnant by November, make an appointment with me and we'll chat."

I remember feeling nervous and relieved. Relieved because we had a plan, but nervous because I didn't know what the future held. The morning that I called my doctor's office to make the appointment I had a moment. I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, both hands planted firmly on the counter. I studied my face in the reflection and said out loud to myself and the universe, "I give up."

Those words set me free. I wasn't giving up on having a family, I was letting go. I was going to allow myself to take the next step. It was OK that maybe our journey was going to be different than we had planned.

Fast forward to this morning. My doctor's appointment was at 10:30AM and I was anxious. I started off the day on a healthy foot with a glass of water mixed with apple cider vinegar and a cup of green tea. I took another pregnancy test because man that would be a great story! After throwing out another negative pregnancy test, I started to get ready to leave the house.
 

 

After waiting what felt like an eternity, the doctor came in and asked me how things had been going. I grabbed all of my papers and charts (when did I become that woman?) and gave her all the information that I had. She jotted down my period dates and my ovulation dates. She paused. That's when she said it. "I think that you're having an ovulation issue and while I could give you medication, I think the better idea would be to have you see a reproductive endocrinologist." I nodded and said that sounded great. She left the room to get some information for me.

I can't say that I was surprised. It still felt like a slap on my face. This was happening. I was going to see a fertility specialist. I was becoming a story. You know how everyone has a, "Oh my friend's hair dresser had tired to get pregnant for four years before going for fertility treatments. It didn't work but then when they went on a vacation, BOOM she got pregnant!" I was going to be a story. Hopefully a successful one.

 

The doctor came back in the room and gave me in the information. Bless her soul, she really seemed to care. She told me that she would be waiting for the good news and as soon as I was pregnant, she'd take over my care. She told me that she hoped 2013 would be my year. Me and you both, sister.

I made it to my car in one piece. I called my husband and was able to give him the play by play. With no hesitation he said, "that's great"! He was genuinely excited. I burst into tears. In the sweetest way possible, and in such typical guy fashion he said, "Babe, I don't know why you're crying."

Why?

Because I'm broken. I feel like a failure. I'm scared. I'm petrified. And simply, this sucks.

I sat in my car for a few minutes in silence as the rain tapped at my windows. I made a decision. I had one day. One day to throw a pity party, one day to be angry at the world, one day to ask "why me, why us." And that was it. Come 12:01AM November 14th, no more. I am going to forge on and do everything that I can to make a freaking baby.

And that's not all. I am going to count my blessings and enjoy every day. I'm going to live and love the life I have and love with all of my heart. Maybe most importantly I'm going to love myself like hell.

When I got home I sat down and called to book an appointment with the fertility center. It felt good. And scary. One step forward. I had to run out to get something from CVS and like always I was distracted by the makeup aisles. I allowed myself one pity party purchase-- a new red lipstick.

I have less than three hours left to wallow but to be honest, I'm feeling pretty good. Tomorrow is a new day.