“You should never get pregnant”. “You’re a doctor’s worst nightmare when you come to labor and delivery.” “With your age, there is no way you will be able to get pregnant without help.” “With all of your issues, you will be high-risk, which means more work for your doctor.” These are just some things that were said to me when I went in to speak with my OBG-YN to discuss getting pregnant. These statements were delivered within 10 minutes of her reading my chart. There was no test run, no questions on how I was feeling. Sitting in the office with tears streaming down my face, I thought all hope was gone for me ever to have the one thing I have dreamed of since I was a child: to be a mother.
Finally, I found the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, who had no children. His only ask of me was to give him a baby, and at 41, I was told that would never happen. As I sat with tears streaming down my face and my dream being snatched from me, I wondered if I should have tried when I was younger. See, I did it the right way. I waited until I was married to try and start my family. I went to school, got my degree, and worked on my second degree. I was active in my church. I taught thousands of women how to love themselves and walk in the boldness of who they are. Yet, here I sat, this strong, fabulous, God-fearing African American, being told I could never birth my old children.
Walking out of the room with my heart and mind in the piece, I ran into my doctor, laughing and enjoying her time with the nurse without care. There was no Ms. Perry, I am sorry, or there is hope. Nothing but her life seemed to be still moving forward as if nothing had happened. Well, for her, nothing had changed. She already achieved her dream of marriage, having a successful career, and being a mother. So she could laugh and smile because it was my hopes and dreams she crushed.
What was my next move? Where did I go? Who could I talk to that would understand what I was going through? It seemed like I was in a world all by myself. As a little girl, you are taught that you are supposed to be a mom. For as long as I can remember, I was told I would be a fantastic mom when my chance came. Now, I am sitting here with nothing. What was my plan? Did I call my fiancé and tell him to move on? Did this mean I was not a whole woman?
Of all the questions I faced, the biggest question challenged my faith, directly impacting my mental health. The question was, God, where are you? Why did YOU let this happen? I considered taking my own life for the first time in many years. Sitting in my car that day, I believed that I had failed at the one thing that mattered most: motherhood.
Getting here has taken much faith, sitting with my therapist to deal with my mental and trusting that what God has for me is for me. I drank fertility teas, monitored my cycles and ovulation, changed my diet, and stayed with my husband. Do you know what changed? One day, my husband looked at me well as I cried over another negative test and said Baby, you’re doing too much. When God is ready, we will get pregnant. At that moment, I decided to breathe. I sat on our bed and released all the negative energy I had held onto. I removed all the negative feelings, emotions, and thoughts surrounding the ever-negative pregnancy test.
One week after I got married, my period was late, and I was nervous to take a test. So, I waited until my husband left for work and took a test, half expecting it to be negative. To my shock, it was not. So, I now sit 43 and pregnant. Your journey may or may not look like mine, but I hope this short blog has encouraged you to continue. Keep believing that you will get your chance to live your dream.
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