Poetic Infertility...

My fear.  The thing that runs through my mind when no one is around. It consumes me at times. Beyond marriage, beyond meeting my soul mate, and beyond being successful. About four years ago I dated a dude who was much younger than me. A slip up, no protection, and a plan B pill. My mind goes back to that conversation before the Plan B pill ‘You are how old and you’ve never been pregnant…are you sure you can have kids.’ After the gulp, the swallows, cool water going down my throat washing away chance, the chance for my dream to come true.

With that pill did I wash away my chance for a baby? Nowhere near the magnitude of abortion, but still playing in my mind. The movie of my life that involved a him or her, dependent on me for everything and with me for life.

No, I have never intentionally tried to get pregnant. Have I had scares, yes. Maybe it was all in my mind. Beyond the talks with the doctor(s), ‘Oh your ovaries just aren’t working correctly’. What does that mean? No kids for me. Past all of the pills to regulate my periods, ‘Sure birth control can help you with the cramps and the heavy flow that you have, but most importantly it’ll help regulate your periods.’ Pill induced periods, how womanly is that. In the end you’re saving eggs, so that when it does happen you’ll have plenty to go around. Right. Chemically produced in a lab that makes my sex drive go from 60 to 0 in 3.5 weeks. ‘Oh you’re young. 30 no problem, 39 then you start to worry.’ Is what the doctor says. Am I going about this the wrong way? Dreams of the future, a house, a husband and fear… infertility.