February 11, 2013

I sit. I wait.

For two years
I have waited,
but not here.
This is new territory.

A large window,
a concrete wall
as cold as
this leather chair
upon which I nervously
sweat and wait.

This place feels clinical
devoid of any human emotion.
Shaking of hands
that serve as a
mere introduction.
I see you,
but you don’t see me.

You sit, you glance.
I sit, I wait.

The words roll
off your lips like lava
burning all of my
open wounds,
filling the cracks
with an unimaginable weight.

Without even seeing me
or knowing,
you wreaked havoc
and confirmed my fears:
Inconceivable,
Irreparable,
Broken.

Four years ago today, I was diagnosed with PCOS, also known as polycystic ovarian syndrome. I had known that something was wrong for years prior to my diagnosis, but I was afraid.

I was afraid of what I would find out, of what it would mean for me. But mostly, I was afraid of what I might lose.

For those of you who don’t know what PCOS is, it is a hormonal disorder that is caused by cysts on owns ovaries. It can cause irregular periods, acne, unwanted hair, weight problems and so forth. For me in particular, I don’t have period like ever. I must have both estrogen and progesterone in the form of birth control. However, it effects my liver.

Because of this, I had to make a choice. I choose to forego taking birth control, so in turn I no longer have a period, which means that the possibility of having children for me could be virtually impossible. Being a mother is something that I have always dreamed about and to have to grapple with the thought that it may be impossible had me struggling.

Struggling with a loss of an identity that had always seemed possible, but now unable to obtain. You have to realize that I grew up in a small town where being a mother is almost innate and perceived as inherent.

Since I was stripped of the possibility, I had to reevaluate what I wanted out of my life and who I was meant to become. Shortly after my diagnosis, I was accepted in NKU. I studied abroad. I moved. I changed my degree to something I love. I broadened my horizons by seeing that there is more to me than just being a mom. I’m an artist, a writer, a friend, an aunt, and a godmother just to name a few.

I’m a multifaceted woman. Some day I do still hope to be a mom. If that’s biologically, then great, but I am not limited. I can adopt or foster and that is totally fine with me. I have more love in my heart and look forward to sharing it with whomever I am fortunate to come across in my life.

I’m not broken anymore. I’m healing slowly and it is a beautiful thing.