Bold Words, Broken Hearts

 

I was laying in an MRI machine looking up at this image of a maple tree on the ceiling. The first of many experiences that I thought I'd never have. I was trying to lay perfectly still as they snapped x-rays of my lower half. I remember feeling like I needed the toilet, but measuring the number of classical songs I'd heard, there must've been four, so at an average of four minutes each, we must nearly be done. I sighed. Please nearly be done.

"Okay, Jessica, you can get up now. You may experience some dizziness or blurryness, so feel free to sit for a while if you need to." 

I stood immediately and wandered off to get changed back into my clothes. Somewhere between having gotten dressed and leaving the MRI room, my vision blurred, but I slowly made my way back to Jon who was waiting outside in the car. 

When I returned to the gynecologist, a week or two later, he had results for me. 

"Everything internal is normal. Which is obviously good news. In terms of the PCOS, once you hit thirty, there are some things you have to closely look for and manage e.g risk of heart disease, diabetes, thyroid issues etc. From here, I sadly won't be much use to you, moving forward you will probably need a team of three or four professionals to help you navigate your health. You will most likely never concieve naturally, you'll probably need to have an IUI or IVF and deliver by cesarean."

 Each word as he wrote it punctured my heart. I looked at my soon-to-be husband crest-fallen.

 "The problem is who to refer you on to for treatment, the labial fusion will need to be fixed first and that may require a hymenectomy. There are few specialists in Adelaide who have experience in such things. Two or three in the state. So perhaps I'll just refer you on to one of these organisations: Repromed or Fertility SA." 

Leaving that appointment, my whole world had come crashing down, every fear I had ever had was coming true. All the unsaid words between my body and my mind were here in front of me. All carefully written down on a sheet of office paper in bold letters. I shoved that piece of paper into an accordion folder to keep it, a checklist, a prophecy of where my life was yet to go.

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