Just breathe Cora just breathe. I played that phrase in my head over and over again. I was walking into the door of this unknown place this heavy place. I felt more vulnerable than I thought. My first trip to the fertility clinic happened shortly after I found out about having to go through IVF in order to conceive. This is the best clinic in my city. They knew what they were doing. I was in good hands it didn’t stop the feeling of nervousness it didn’t stop the fear. I walked in and even though I am sure that it wasn’t cold it had a certain judgment about it. I knew going in I would get stares. I would get questions. I would get that quiet gasp of breath that the nurses think you don’t hear. Just breathe Cora just breathe. I stripped down like the nurse said. I slid on this cold table surrounded by a nothingness that I couldn’t shake.
I dreamed of this moment you know going to the doctor’s office with my husband to get a sonogram and seeing my bouncing baby on that screen. My mother standing by me we waited as I lay in the stirrups. I wondered what the doctor will say when she walks in this room. My surgery is over, and the cyst is gone so this should b
e a fairly routine appointment. I am not sure what the appointment was going to be about what they were going to do, but I waited. The door opened and in that quick moment my heart stopped. I was scared but for what this should be okay. This should be routine. The doctor came in smiling, and bouncy. She was extremely comforting, and calming. She was so sure of herself, and it was calming for me to see that.
I laid back and she grabbed the sonogram tool and placed it and she moved it to the right because there was nothing to look for on the left. She said the routine things. There is the uterus, and the lining of the uterus it’s very healthy. She took the pictures that were needed of the uterus, and the lining. She was still smiling, and seemed very calm until the speculum waved over my ovary. Her face froze and all I could think was here we go again. Please don’t break me again. I can’t take that please say everything looks okay. What could have happened it’s only been two months since my surgery. It just can’t be that bad right?
The next words that I would hear were going to be another mountain that my fiancé at the time, and I would have to climb. I took a deep breath. The doctor looked up at me, and said so we have four small cysts around a very large 7cm cyst in the middle. What oh my gosh you can’t be serious. Didn’t I go through enough pain? I am twenty-three and one of my ovaries, and tubes are gone, and now you tell me the only ovary I have left is now in danger. I said oh my gosh, and the heaviness in my heart overwhelmed me in a way that was unexpected. I had so much peace. I was trusting God. All I could do was cry. My mother came over and rubbed my head, and I just cried. My doctor didn’t seem confused she didn’t seem worried. The doctor didn’t want to touch it at this point my one ovary was gold.
So as if that news wasn’t bad enough the second thing that came after was even more of a downer. I would now have to get on consistent birth control to try to suppress and remove the cyst, and the option of trying to get pregnant would yet again be ripped away from me, and placed on hold. Just breathe Cora just breathe. I went on the consistent birth control, and everything in me fell to the ground. I started gaining weight, my sex drive dropped to the bottom of the floor, and my life was being jerked from up under my feet. I hate this I want to be normal for the love of God please just heal me. I know you can why me, and what must I go through to get to the top? I was reminded that God told me you will go through test, and trials that most young women go through in ordered to minster effectively. You can’t write without pain. You can’t encourage without full knowledge of what the encourager needs to hear the most.
Ten years from now when I am watching my kids run around, and play I will look at a picture of me in this time in this moment right now, and I will speak to that girl, and ultimately I will be speaking to you, and you know what I will say. I will say I KNOW it’s hard, and you want to give up. I KNOW it hurts but I promise you will get the victory out of this situation. God is hearing you and He will answer. Don’t hide from your testimony because it is going to save someone’s life someday. You did nothing wrong, and there is nothing you could have done differently. Do not be ashamed of your infertility you have nothing to be ashamed of. I KNOW you will get to the rainbow. I KNOW you want to blame something you want to break down, but be strong. Trust God the pain that you are living in now will soon minister to someone else.
I KNOW you are not alone in your pain, and you may be writing out of no success now, but you will be successful. You will birth and there is nothing more beautiful than that. You will be a mommy love yourself, and God will give you someone to love. The important thing is that I will be able to tell you my fertility sisters, and me that I know. God is bringing you through this so that you will KNOW what to say, and I will say to her breathe Cora just breathe and I say to you my fertility sister’s breathe just breathe.