When I saw that I had missed the phone call from the fertility clinic I could hardly breathe. My hands were shaking so violently that I couldn’t hold the phone.

When I woke up in recovery I had the number “16” written on my hand and I nearly burst into tears. As we drove home we allowed ourselves to relish the sensation of hope again…

I was a little bit hotter, a little bit angrier and a little bit less tolerant every day. Fighting invigorated me – Confrontation felt so GOOD.

So many women are afraid to change doctors as they don’t want to “offend” their current doctor, but for me, this was a decision of life or death – the life or death of my future children.

Life or death – that is EXACTLY how I viewed it. I wanted to be taken seriously; this “casual” approach was making me furious.

I looked up and the screen was black. I didn’t know what was happening, all I knew is that she was causing me unbearable pain and the procedure hadn’t even started.

“Can you do that?” I scrunched my nose in disbelief. “I can try.” Her nod was strong and solid, as though she was accepting a challenge.

Hope is slowly growing inside a little dark corner of my heart. Normally I suppress it, but for some reason I watered it a little bit this time.

With shaking hands I pick up the phone and shove the fear of the unknown into a little proverbial suitcase that I carry with me always. I choke back tears as I make THE CALL.

But, instead, we are trying NATURALLY. The best way really. I know I should be thrilled. So…..here I go again….on that horrible rollercoaster ride.

Some days were worse than others and I never told my husband about this because I was terrified that we would stop having sex all together.

In those powerful moments of awe, wonder and mindfulness you find that, in that brief moment, your pain and sadness actually disappears.

My unpredictable fluctuating moods left me questioning my sanity. I did not know who I was anymore. But what I did know is that I RESPECTED the POWER OF HORMONES.

I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, and yet I wanted to burst into tears. Laughter eventually prevailed, and I found humour was slowly become one of my main coping strategies.

I wanted to run into the woods and break something. I wanted to scream until I lost my voice. How could Dr. B give me such BAD advice?????!!!!!!!!!!!

He laughed and winked at me as he said “Oh, I bet you love to shag you dirty little thing you….” I was frozen to my chair in shock and disgust. I had never felt so disrespected in a doctor’s office.

We were living in a bad news – déjà vu – never ending loop from hell. That’s the only way I can describe it.

In that moment of shock and emotion, I staunchly decided that I wanted surgery. And if Dr.B in Australia wouldn’t do it, then I would find someone else who would!

It was time to discuss fertility treatments. I sat on the pale purple bench and pressed my sweaty palms together. The options were overwhelming.

I thought I was young and healthy and ready to start a family….until I came off the birth control. Then all hell broke loose.