There is never a clock in exam rooms. Old magazines, resource flyers, anxiety and fear are always abundant but never a clock to wait with you. I think, at times, that the consistent ticking and tocking of the clock would comfort me, soothe me. With each second the hand makes its voyage to become a minute, it would take me on a journey to a calm and collected land. It would help me focus and assuage my fears no matter how silly they may be. It would remind me that life moves forward even when we may be scared of the future.
I sat waiting for my provider to turn the handle she had many times before. The handle she had turned time and time again with other patients, to give them wonderful news, to deliver crushing realities, to ask them to bare themselves and pull their butt to the end of the table so she can get inside them in a way we become uncomfortably comfortable with over the years.
Maybe the clock in the room would not bring solace but irritation. Tick, tick, ticking away the moments when you are anxious to find out news. Maybe it would lead me to a land of impatience and anger. Thinking of all the time I've wasted in this room. In other rooms just like this where I've been poked, prodded and spread apart with no shame, no merriment or fulfilment of good or happy news.
My blood pressure was slightly elevated. I have been nervous lately. I haven't lost the weight. Without losing weight she wouldn't help me have a baby. I get it. Really I do. I'm extremely overweight, insulin resistant, have a family history of cardiovascular and stroke disease-she wants me to be as healthy as possible before attempting to conceive again or trying other fertility methods.
I just felt like a failure.
I couldn't stop but think....if one of my biggest hindrances to conceiving is my weight and I am not shedding it like I should be does that mean deep down I don't want children? I know what I want, what I desire, but if my actions aren't in concordance with my desires won't that show her I am not serious?
There are women in my life who tell me I should not talk about fertility issues. That I should not be open about my struggles because I may embarrass myself or my husband. By sharing my struggles I am focusing on the bad in my life and not praising the good. Except here's the thing, I accept the good and bad alike. I joyfully praise the good I am blessed with and reflect on the bad or unsavory parts of life and use them as an opportunity to learn.
Hiding what I am going through does nothing for me. Opening myself up, sharing my fears, my failures, my goals for my future has helped me form an amazing support system of family, friends, co-workers, and even strangers.
Having a support system that raises me up when I feel like giving up is precious and priceless.
Being open and honest with those who annoyingly tease and ask why there aren't little ones running around yet is freeing. Not having to tiptoe or beat around the bush is satisfying. Although sometimes, it is just as freeing and satisfying to tell a nosey mosey we don't want to talk about it in a completely nondefensive way and feel content because we are open with people in our lives who are genuinely interested and there for us.
Finally, the door opened. We talked openly and frankly. Although I had not lost weight I had lost inches from our last visit. She reminded me that things take time and I am still down from the first time I met with her. She pulled her stool awkwardly close, sitting knee to knee with me, staring right into my soul and spoke directly to my heart and told me she believed I was on the cusp of a breakthrough and will be shedding weight soon. She let me know she would do whatever she could to help us meet our goal.
She stood, signaling the end of our appointment. Her hand rested on the handle of the door, this door that has ushered many happy smiles out of this small room and into the world, this door that had been shut delicately allowing someone to cry away from everyone else before having to brave the world like nothing earth shattering had happened. Her hand twitched, ready to turn, to head to another patient, another story, but before leaving she urged to me call and ask if I had any questions about our plan or medications.
As I gathered my wallet and got ready to go back to work, I realized it was exactly what I needed, an open environment where questions and concerns were welcome. Where learning happens. Where I can be myself and comfortable in my own skin and not feel silly by asking or suggesting ideas. Where I do not need to focus on my past but the possibility of the future.
When I was checking out I glanced up at the nondescript black and white clock, and realized I had only been there twenty minutes. It felt like I had just got there and an eternity all at once. I let the ticking tame my soul, taking me forward to the rest of my day, ushering me to my future, towards my possibilities, one moment at a time.
This has been a Sunday Confession with the lovely Ash from More Than Cheese And Beer. Today's prompt was open. Please stop by the link-up and see how our lovely hostess and the other bloggers tackled the prompt. And as always, Happy Sunday.