My Journey to the Mommy Club: A Trip to The Fertility Doctor
I stand in front of the mirror tugging at my gray sweater and wonder if there will ever be a cute baby bump underneath it. I look at the woman staring back at me and try my hardest to will her to believe this doesn’t mean she has failed. I see her staring back at me with those big brown eyes trying her hardest to put on a face that is courageous and sure of herself, but I can feel it in my chest that the courage is ready to flee for the door and there is a lump that is beginning to form in my throat. Standing in my closet 10 minutes ago I pondered what the best outfit was that would prove to the fertility doctor that there wasn’t something wrong with me. What do you wear to the fertility doctor anyway? I settled on black boots, black leggings, a gray sweater and a colorful scarf to tie in my hair. Surely this will make me look like there’s not something wrong with me. Surely this outfit will make me look like I deserve a baby.
I shake my head at my humanity and smirk a little. Isn’t that what we do as humans- cover up the raw emotion with smiles and the things of this world, so the rest of the world doesn’t know that right now, for a moment, we might not be entirely ok.
I am going to preface this by saying these thoughts are about me. I don’t look at other women under the same lens that I see myself through. If other women head to the fertility clinic I hold nothing but love and compassion in my heart for them. For me, for myself, for my life, that is not the case. I hate to lose more than I love to win. Coming here for me means that I had to admit defeat. To come here is to admit to myself that I couldn’t do it. The white flag is painfully raised. The tests clearly show this isn’t on Hubbz… This one is on me. My body is not performing. In my head all I can hear is my ego sneering at me over her rhinestone specs, “You had one job, Doll Face.” I politely remind my ego she should “Shut her face and have a damn seat.” (And for the record, yes, I talk to my ego because when I don’t put her in check, nothing good happens in my life!) #truestory
I sit and wait for Hubbz on the porch distracting myself from my skyrocketed anxiety with Snaps of Chat and the most Instant of Grams (Snapchat and Instagram are my favorite. If you don’t follow me on those, you should. It’s more fun that you can handle, plus, I am hilarious and you will laugh. I digress.) Hubbz pulls in the driveway and I giggle as I think to myself “Your chariot awaits to take you to the baby making center!” I hop in the car and immediately spill my water EVERYWHERE. At that moment, I lose my mind. Straight up. Freak-the-frock-(not a type-o)-out. Lose. My. Mind. All of my emotions that I have been so calculatingly keeping in check spill all over the car along with the water. Hubbz, my rock, just stays firm. He waits while I pull it together. He stays steady as the emotions flow because he gets that it’s not about the water. I clean up the spill pull together the emotion and we make the trek to the office where they make the babies.
Hubbz takes my hand as we walk across the parking lot to the building and we pray. God brought us here and regardless of the outcome God will bring us through. My leg bounces while we wait for the doctor to come in. Hubbz tries to distract my anxious mind by joking about things that only our sick and warped senses of humor would find hilarious. The doctor walks in and all I can think in my head is that this is the man that’s going to get me knocked up. Will he at least buy me a drink first?! I giggle to myself at my warped sense of humor and shake his hand… Still feeling like maybe we should hug it out or something. We talk and I ask a myriad of questions about cycles and medicines and procedures- all of which he answers thoroughly and reassures me. Hubbz and the doctor and I come up with a plan. A steady, methodical plan. A plan that I can refer to when my overly anxious heart begins to lead me astray. After two hours, it is over.
As we walk out into the crisp fall air, Hubbz grabs my hand and gives it a light squeeze. He looks in my eyes and asks me if my heart is at ease. In this moment, with him by my side, I feel like we can get through anything. I look into his baby blue eyes and shake my head a simple yes.
Yes, my heart is at ease.
Yes, all is well with my soul.