The Wisdom of Tom Petty

As many of you already know, I met with my new Reproductive Endocrinologist for the first time. I won't lie; after the experience I had with Dr. M, I was completely nervous. I was already looking into other clinics and entertaining the idea of just giving up entirely, but, my meeting with Dr. D was fantastic.

I'm not looking for promises of a baby. That's insane because no one can make that promise authentically. In truth, I wasn't even sure what I was looking for in a doctor any more. You see, in the 2 years I have been pursuing fertility treatments, and the years previous where I thought it would happen in its own time, I have conceded my hope. Hope simply didn't reside here anymore. It hurts too much to invest your spirit into every failed month. If you choose to hope each month that the new treatment worked, then the heartbreak of failure chips away at your soul a little bit more. If you've never hoped for something for half a decade and had nothing to show, it's probably hard to comprehend. I'm sure some of you have read my musings and have called me cynical or bitter. I am both, sometimes simultaneously, when it comes to my hopes of family building. However, I think Dr. D is working on that.

What I found in Dr. D is much the same as what I value in my OBGYN, Dr S--- compassion. He looked at me as a human being who has the very natural urge to have a child.  He asked questions about me and my husband and talked about treatments that were suitable for us-- not just for the "majority" of women. He answered my questions and put me at ease, making me feel heard and understood. Much like Dr. S, he was not put off by my proclivity to research and inform myself. He actually acknowledged that our road has been long, and for better or worse, he knew we needed resolution.

In that moment, I knew he understood. I looked at Jeremy and I could tell he felt the same way. You see, like Tom Petty said, the waiting is the hardest part. The uncertainty of knowing there is an indefinite timeline in which you throw everything you have at facing this problem is a form of torture. Dr. D understood that we needed to find peace with whatever our future may hold.  He talked to us about all of our family building options-- more of the treatments we have been doing with different drugs, IVF and even adoption. He gave me a definite progression he thinks is a best solution, but he also acknowledged fully, that in his practice, adoption is as good as a pregnancy, because it means you have built your family. So, this practice that makes money trying to get women pregnant offers adoption counseling and services if we choose to go that route.

I now know what I want in a doctor-- humanity. Do I expect him to have all of the answers? Of course not. That's preposterous. However, I want him to look at me and see me as an individual who has invested her heart and soul into the endeavor of having a child. I want him to see a couple who is totally committed to one another and to expanding our love with a child. Are we flawed, both as individuals and as a couple? Absolutely. But the essence of humanity means that those flaws are just part of the fabric of our character. I want him to understand that this process isn't just about science and testing hypotheses. It can't be solely about that because each hypothesis that is tested breaks my heart just a little more. I want him to see this is a process that is about a whole person--an entire couple, really.

Dr. D does. He understands our frustrations and wants to leave the insanity of doing the same thing over and over and praying for a different result. In the one hour I spent with Dr. D, I feel like he understands me and my case better than Dr M did in the year I spent at that practice. He can't guarantee perfection, hut he can promise me his best efforts. That's all I can ask for.

So, while we are still waiting a few months to pursue more aggressive treatments, since the start of school is eminent, I am going to allow myself to hope a little bit. It's crazy that hope these days hopes seems to come in vials with clinical names I can't pronounce. Never once in my life did I think I would be waiting for the day I have to give myself injections. It just goes to show that we never really know what hope might look like for us.

So, for a couple more months, we're still in a holding pattern. But that's ok. I have a million things to distract me between now and November. But, that philosopher Tom Petty really was right. Every day you get one more yard. You take it on faith. You take it to the heart, but the waiting truly is the hardest part-- at least until I take that first injection.

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