No Place to Hide

I spent my first 28 years trying NOT to get pregnant, but today marks 15 months I've been trying for the opposite outcome. The first 12 months everyone says "Don't worry, it'll happen" and "It's not an 'if' for you, it's a 'when'". But after a full year, the diagnosis of "INFERTILITY" gets slapped on your record. Just seeing that word nxt to my name pisses me off. How can a single word cause so much hurt and anger? When I hear that word it seems like it's spoken louder and can bring on tears even before it's finished being spoken. I have trouble saying it without crying, but it's my current reality.

The first "round" of Clomid (an ovulation booster) did nothing, but after 6 rounds of the highest dose and still no positive results, it's time to move forward. Now, there's no place to hide. Thursday, I'm going in to the hospital for an HSG scan. I'll learn whether or not my issues are fixable, whether there's no issue and patience is in order, or worse- I'll learn that children aren't possible for me. My mother is trying to be supportive by telling me that if they tell me it's never going to happen it's better just to know, but I don't feel that way. I like holding on to the hope that I will be able to carry my own baby and create life with my husband. That's the only real dream I've ever had. What if, in less than two days, I find out that's a pipedream? Am I strong enough to handle that news? Will I have to stop answering questions about why I don't have kids with optimism and admit that it's not possible for me?

The "what ifs" could stop me from sleeping for the next two days so here's what I'll put out into the universe instead- my ideal Thursday morning. I sleep in, have a nice hearty breakfast, and go to the hospital. I squeeze my mother's hand through the discomfort, all the while praying for a positive outcome. The doctor tells me, "Yes! We kow what the problem is and no worries, we can take care of this. In fact, we fix issues like this all the time." Then, we go home and enjoy our lovely afternoon together and I get to hold on to the hope I've been holding on to my whole life. Fingers crossed. 


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