Thought I Had More Time…

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For the past 3-4 years, my menstrual cycles have been irregular and/or extremely heavy. I’ve also had male pattern hair growth and the symptoms seemed to be getting worse—including the moderate acne and unexplained weight gain. I figured that I had polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS). I decided to see a gynecologist. They did some blood work on my hormonal levels and scheduled an ultrasound for the following week.

Fast forward to my ultrasound this past Thursday. I sat in the waiting room with a full bladder and a mind full of congested thoughts. What would they find? Was it PCOS? Was it something even more serious? Was I infertile? Deep breaths. Deep breaths. After the ultrasound was performed, I nervously waited for the results in the examination room. The wait felt like an eternity.

I was informed that I had fibroids. I interrupted the doctor in mid-sentence to tell him that my sister also had fibroids but they weren’t a major concern because they were so small. The doctor continued. The ultrasound discovered that I had 5 fibroids on my uterus—2 of them were small and 3 of them were “quite large”. The news floored me. It was as if he was saying the news in slow motion as I tried to decipher his words. “Quite large”? That sounded quite serious.

He said that surgery was an option but such a procedure would cause scarring and the fibroids would return anyway. He also expressed to me that if I were slightly older and already had children, he would remove my uterus. Remove my uterus? He wanted to know if I wanted to have children. I said that I did. He pointed out that I didn’t have much time. Didn’t have much time? He said that I should have sex several times a week. He wanted me to work on getting pregnant first (by the end of the year) before considering surgery. He also said that if I encounter any extreme pain and bleeding that I should return to his office as soon as possible. My mind drew a blank and I didn’t ask all the questions that I should have. I was truly at a loss for words.

I was all smiles with the doctor and remained positive during our talk. I stored away my pain and cautiously escorted it to my car. I sat in my car and tears welled in my eyes as I gripped the steering wheel for dear life. What was I going to do? I thought about all the time that I wasted on meaningless sex and relationships. All the time I wasted time forming opinions on women who had children without the whole package—a family unit. I wanted the package. I felt like I deserved the whole package. My mother had the whole package. I’ve always wanted to become a mother—but not a single one. What if there’s a possibility that I will never become a mother at all? 

I can’t afford invitro fertilization or fertility treatments. Who do I have sex with in order to become pregnant? I made a short list in my head and blew the list to smithereens in my head. The One Who Loves To Text and I only have sex maybe 2-3 times a month and that’s not enough to increase my chances to get pregnant. Who’s to say that he even wants more children? I don’t know what type of father is he to this own children. We haven’t discussed the possibility of taking things further since his break-up but that’s another blog post for another time. The One Who Lied offered but I turned him down, even after his declarations of love and what a great father he would be emotionally and financially. I am not trying to have a love child. I expressed regret to The One Who Got Away for not having his children when he offered so many years ago. He offered kind words of advice and allowed me bounce my frustrations off him.

After all the mental exhaustion, I came up with the strangest idea. Should I hold baby daddy auditions on Facebook? Hell, I get raunchy and flirtatious inboxes or comments from a few guys on a regular basis. Should my next Facebook status read, “Who wants to go half on a baby? My biological clock is ticking!” Sigh. Since this news, I’ve been self-medicating on pastries and alcohol. Not good. Not good at all. But I guess I’m glad that I know now. It explains a lot, especially the excessive urination, pelvic cramping, abdominal pressure, bleeding in between periods, lower back pain and how one side of my stomach looks slightly larger than the other.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. I need someone to wake me up ASAP. Sigh.

On Being A Mother…Someday

Joy of holding a baby's hand

Mother’s Day…um…why does everyone assume I’m a mother? I received a few “Happy Mother’s Day” texts and comments from random people. Does a person naturally assume since I’m in my 30s or have ginormous boobies that I’m somehow a mother? Or was it said to mock me or to spring my ovaries into action? Was it an innocent mistake(s)?

This following incident was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I went to the store in my mother’s neighborhood. There was a man in his late 50s sitting out front. He wished me a belated Happy Mother’s Day. I said that I wasn’t a mother. It perturbed me because he knew for a fact that I didn’t have kids.  He murmured, “I can change that.” I pretended that I didn’t hear him as I entered the store.

As I left the store, he called out to me and said, “I got someone for you. He can make you a mother.” My jaw dropped. WTF?! Did this dude just pimped me out? The guy, maybe in his 30s, was seriously going along with it. All I could do was laugh. I was so embarrassed. I sped away from the store.

But I do wonder if I’ll ever become a mother. I’m 30. In 10 years, I’ll be 40. Although I am grateful for not having kids during the unstable relationships I’ve been in, I sometimes wonder what it would be like.  I know several single mothers. Although it’s hard raising kids at times, they say they wouldn’t change it for the world. Then there are people who wouldn’t dare bring a child into the world without being in a committed relationship. What situation would be ideal for me? The very idea of being a mother (someday) scares me but also over joys me.

But until my financial situation improves (and several other things), I’ll just love on my niece and nephew until then.