Saturday, April 9, 2011


I despise the unknown.

I don't like most new things.

I am not looking forward to my appointment on Friday.

Actually, I'm terrified.  Frankly, I'd like not to need a different doctor.  I'd like to be one of those miracle women who never deal with the beast of PCOS.  I'd like to have the opportunity to shock myself with a miraculous, unsuspected pregnancy and a completely normal weight.  I'd like to go to one doctor whose only responsibility is to check me at the normal points during pregnancy and deliver a baby.

I don't get those things.  Instead, I have to weigh the options regarding physicians.  I get to determine who knows more about a disease I don't understand myself.  I get to inspect BBT charts like they are holy scripture and realize that mine aren't necessarily indicative of any pertinent information. 

And those things reside in my little Pandora's box with the miniscule amount of hope I manage to cling to like a parachute. 

Sometimes I just have to rant about it because I feel like I'm going to explode with fear.  Lots of fear.  Fear that tells me that this is the rest of my life.  Fear that indicates that I have kept Favorite from playing a role he truly deserves.  Fear that we will eventually resign ourselves to life as we know it.

It's the unknown. 

It terrifies me.

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