(Photo from ShadyGroveFertility.com)
About a month ago, my husband and I attended a fertility seminar called “What to Expect When You’re Not Expecting”. The seminar went over the basics of all of the first steps in fertility planning – from initial consultation to explaining the actual treatments. At the end of the seminar, everyone in attendance filled out a registration card, and from there we would be contacted to set up our consultation appointment. We walked out into the hallway, hugged, and just kind of melted into each other. It was overwhelming, it was scary, but it was the first step.
The very next day, I had a missed call and voicemail from a patient service rep from the fertility center. I had every intention of calling back right after work, every intention of putting the wheels in motion. But when I pulled up that phone number, I froze. All of the sudden, I remembered that I did not have my insurance card in my wallet – oh darn, I would have to find it and call later. Then we had a meeting at work, when I was reminded that my insurance was going to reset on August 1st. Oh, I couldn’t schedule an appointment before then! Because my deductibile will reset then. The next week and the week after that, I was going to wait for this or that or a hundred other things.
So today I took the first step. On my lunch break today, I called the fertility center and made my initial consultation appointment. My preferred office only holds new patient appointments on Thursdays from 8:00am – 3:30pm. Which is, of course, super inconvenient for me, because I work on Thursdays from 8:00am – 6:30pm. My next choice office did have appointments that fit into my schedule. So, I scheduled one. Next Friday, July 21st at 1:00pm.
I texted my husband to see if he would be able to make it to the appointment – a long shot, since the appointment was snack dab in the middle of the day. To my supreme happiness, he immediately texted back that he would take a half-day from work so he could be there. God, I love that man.
As soon as I hung up the phone and added the appointment to my calendar, my stomach dropped and I felt nauseous. I can’t believe it’s finally come to this. I put this off for so long – because making that appointment, taking that step….it makes it all real. It means that this is our life now. Making that appointment means admitting defeat – admitting that I cannot do this on my own. It was a hard pill to swallow. And even now, twelve hours later, just writing about it is giving me that same feeling. The queasy, lump-in-your-throat, uneasy feeling. And I know I will feel the same, if not worse, at the actual appointment.
So today, I made the step; I made the appointment. And I’m trying to recognize that this is not admitting defeat, or waving the white flag. Needing help is not the end of the world or the end of our story, it’s just a new, unexpected chapter.