Beginning

I sat.
Waiting.
Waiting for the doctor to see me. As I waited, I looked around at all of the other women.
Waiting.
Waiting for the doctor to solve the problem.
Of fertility.
No one smiled. Everyone sat seriously, waiting to be called.
By the doctor.
To solve the problem.

I knew this waiting room well. I came and waited. Waited for the blood tests to be taken. Waited for the sonogram. Waited for the hormonal levels to be read. Waited for the doctor. I was getting tired of waiting.

All of a sudden, a noise broke the tense silence. I looked up. Everyone looked at the source of the noise. It was a child, about three years old, looking for her mother. "mommy" she cried as she ran to the woman she belonged to.

My heart sank.
Fast.
I would never hear that word.
"mommy"
I died, just a little.
Right there, sitting on the modular sofa.
I died.
"Jennifer" I heard. My name. The doctor was ready. But I was not. I was not ready to hear that I would never hear that word.
"There is a problem" she said, clinically, but compassionately.
"Your levels, they are erratic. You could still try. You could come back (again!!) on day 3 to get your levels checked and we could keep doing this, and......................................................................................................and, and, and...I don't want to hear and!!!!"there are other ways.....drugs, you would have to inject yourself"....No, no, or........................an egg......someone else's egg"...........NO, NO, NO!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not for me.

As I left the office, I walked. As I walked, I kept thinking, I will never hear that word................
"Mommy, mommy, mommy".............

I will never be a mother.

I thought back to a few nights before when Arny and I had talked. We talked and talked and talked. I wanted a child. I wanted a child with Arny because he is a great father. His kids probably don't recognize it a lot of the time, but I hear how he talks to them. Ha, he actually talks to them. About important things. He explains. He cares. He hates to hear them hurt or upset. He tries to protect them. I want to share that with him. With our child. It was good, talking. He brought it up. Adoption. I hadn't thought about it. I was caught up in the whole pregnancy, "have to have a child to be a mother" motherhood thing. I was actually surprised that he did bring it up, but it hit me.

Right there.

I want to be a mother.

I don't need to "have" a baby to be a mother.

I could hear that word after all.......................mommy, mommy, mommy..........................

and so, it begins...........................................