Feet First

Mr. H had a doctor appointment this morning back in 1960. The building was odd. It was small and musty and had a spiral staircase going up to the second floor where his doctor was. We've never been to see this doctor before, but had I known, I would've packed my camera.

It looked like The Brady Bunch's great aunt's house. It was ridiculously odd, but funny. The couch had a vintage geometric pattern as did a few matching chairs. I have a feeling this is the original furniture that has been in the waiting room of this practice from the get-go. The sofa cushions were worn at the seems exposing the plastic forms and the chairs were made of coordinating vinyl. Classy. Each room had it's own over sized air conditioning units and the thermostat was bulky and rusted. The fluorescent light fixtures flickered, and through the plastic covers, we could see dead crickets.

They eventually called us back and asked Mr. H to give a urine sample. The kind nurse escorted him to the nearest restroom only to find it was clogged with feces and tons of toilet paper. He got a good laugh out of that. He told the nurse, suggested she plunge it and came back to the exam room. We could hear two nurses talking outside our room and we were inside giggling like little kids.

"Is it gone?" asked another nurse.
"Uh, I don't know about that..." said the other.

They showed him to a different bathroom down a hallway past an ancient manual x-ray machine. (I guess if it ain't broke, don't fix it.) He walked into the bathroom as someone had stepped out. The accordion style sliding door (my grandma had one of those about 20 years ago) clicked into place and he started to pee in a cup only to notice that the water was rising well above the toilet bowl and on to the floor. He peed and ran without flushing so he wouldn't get his shoes dirty. He came back into the room with a goofy grin on his face impatiently waiting to tell me what he had witnessed. (His appointment went well, but he has to have a follow up visit next week. I'll let you know how that goes, if you are interested.) We walked down the aged yellow and dark wood hallway to check out, we passed a peach enamel water fountain and a metal door with a 'vacant/occupied' window on it (like on airplane bathrooms and port-a-potties.) This was all too much, but it was a good distraction from having to focus on why we were actually there.

I have a doctor appointment set up for Tuesday morning. This is for a second opinion after seeing that quack, and to see if we can safely and successfully get pregnant (and stay pregnant) this time around. I am really nervous about this, because I don't know what to expect. I can only hope it will be better than the last visit, but I'm not sure. I don't know much about this doctor because even though I have googled her, there is not much there to read. I have heard from a few people that she is a "go getter" and she is assertive and means business. Is this good stuff? I think it is. I want to like her and I want her to like us. I want more than that. I want her to say that our goals of becoming parents to living children are obtainable. I want her to say she is optimistic and we should be too. I want her to have a plan for us to follow and I want it to go smoothly. I want her to know what she is doing through all of this. I want her to hand us a soggy, wrinkled crying baby that I can barely see because my eyes are filled up with joyful tears. I want a miracle.

Which brings me to another subject. I feel like this chance is my last. I am young, so I can continue to get pregnant as long as I have viable eggs. That's not the problem. I can't keep the pregnancy long enough for the baby to survive. Mr. H is so fearful of another loss. He fears he will lose me. He doesn't really want to try again. He wants to find a surrogate (Do I have any volunteers?) and I want to do this myself. We have also talked about freezing eggs and sperm for a surrogate later on if that's what we ultimately have to do. Has anybody gone through this before? I feel like I have something to prove. I KNOW I can do this. I just need one more chance. One more chance that he is not willing to commit to. We have talked about trying again. He wanted to wait for at least a year, but truthfully I think he wants to wait 10 years to give it a go. We have talked about TTC in January. I am scared because even though I am saying "We are going to try again in January", he says" We are talking about trying again in January". There's a BIG difference between the two. He is terrified that we (I) will fail again and so am I. But my need to be a mother out weighs my fears and doubts. I don't know how to make that any more clear. I don't want to "talk him into it" or persuade him into believing this is what he wants and it a good idea because it's what I want. I want him to want it because deep down in his heart he really WANTS IT! Only time will tell, but I'm tired of waiting. Like I said, I feel like this is my last chance to do it on my own. If this next pregnancy fails (insert prayers here) I am giving up. I will not/cannot keep putting him through this for my own selfish reasons. It's not fair to either one of us. It's not fair to my children that my body keeps killing. It's not fair to our friends and family that can't be normal around us because we are so 'vulnerable'. This whole thing is unfair. I don't even know where to go from here. But here I go, feet first.