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“The chances of you conceiving naturally are non-existent. The chance of us successfully harvesting eggs is also minimal.”
I sat. Heart pounding. Palms sweaty. I began to feel the walls slowly start to come in on me. My breathing shallow, head spinning, and hands clasped tightly in my lap like little weights as if they held all the power to hold me down and resist the urge to leap out of my chair, wrapping my tiny fingers around his throat, preventing any more of his ugly truth from escaping his lips. I sat and stared, gazing just beyond his shoulder at the picture of his perfect family. I sunk further into my chair, the reality that I may never have my own photograph sitting on my desk at home.
If I made eye contact I knew it would be over. I knew the flood gates would open and I’d never regain composure so I stared and thought about… anything but being in that room. Wishing I had cancelled the appointment. Not knowing the truth. Continuing to believe that I could have a baby. I wanted to be anywhere but here.