Fear - Seeing the doctor about our Fertility for the very first time

In a few hours I will be sitting in a small room with my husband, awkwardly awaiting the moment that that door opens and we will finally see the very person who just might deliver the best or the worst news of our lives.  Maybe I'll be fully clothed in my high heel boots that usually give me so much confidence, tapping my foot nervously, or maybe I'll be in a robe and socks feeling uncomfortable that the open back is exposing me and lamenting that I look like I just rolled out of bed to sneak into the kitchen for a midnight snack.  Maybe I will be right next to my husband and I can hold him--his leg, his hand--and I can feel his touch when he squeezes my hand when he senses I need something.  Or, maybe I'll be across the room settling for eye contact and understanding smiles, wishing desperately that I could be enveloped in his safe arms that shield me from the harshness of the world.

The questions are endless and nauseating.  These are the worries that don't matter--the uncomfortable silences, the finding a way to candidly talk about your entire sex life, the cringes as someone pokes and prods at your skin and goods in front of your husband.  And even though I don't want them to cross my mind in fear that my conjuring them up might give them the permission to surface and gnaw away at me all night, there are the real fears, stalking me.  

What if there is something wrong with his sperm?  Can this be reversed?  What if blood work shows a deficit in me that presents an enormous hurdle for us?  What if we are told that our odds of conceiving are shockingly low?  I know that there are so many different things, male and female factors that can affect conception, that this small list doesn't do the profession of reproductive endocrinology its due in any way.  And I am terrified of each and every one--those I have run across while anxiously biting my nails obsessing over internet fertility resources and those I am completely oblivious to as I absentmindedly rub my stomach, dreaming and worrying, dreaming and worrying, wondering why there is nothing there.  I am worried about all of it.  But, what if I go away with nothing?  I don't expect a great deal of answers tomorrow at our first appointment, but how long will it take to get answers?  In that wait, what will my state be?

I honestly can't imagine the following days being worse than the past days.  Still, there is something about your first fertility appointment that excites you with the promise of answers and solutions and an entirely different thing that paralyzes you, as if your decision to seek help makes it a foregone conclusions that there are serious problems here.

So, true to form, I have now walked you through one of my near breakdowns and now, true to form I am picking myself back up, putting the pieces back together.  I am sitting straighter in my computer chair, the tears are no longer allowed to flow, and I occasionally shake my head as if to shake all the pain, doubt, and fear right off my skin.  I know my fears, but that doesn't mean I need to let them smother me.

And, so tonight, I believe I will strive to worry about backless robes and looking silly in stocking feet.  I will wonder if my legs are shaved well enough to be in stir-ups and remind myself incessantly to put lotion on my legs tomorrow morning!  I will roll my eyes when I think of the inevitable cold of the table seeping through the rough, cheap paper they put down to make you oh so comfortable.  I will worry about finding my voice so that I can truly ask all my questions and kindly demand all possible tests.  I will choose my outfit and insist on high heel boots, so that I at least have the facade of confidence when I walk into the office armed with ovulation charts and knowledge to prove that I don't need fertility 101, for I have already passed that.  (But I will also pack flats in the car for the lunch, movie, and shopping the hubs has promised me after!)

And all night I will look over at my husband, press up against him, and slip under his arms into that little niche I always call the just right fit as it seems molded just for me.  And all the while, I will lay knowing that he is my strength and that no matter how far from each other we sit tomorrow, I can and will draw on him for everything.  Just as he on me.

ahhh (big sigh)  Now just how am I going to sleep while thinking about this outfit?   : )