(Picture of Dr. Brooks Above)
My knees violently bounce as o wait for the OB/GYN. They took my information and gave me a number, 465. Anxiety eats me alive. What illness could I have? Could I have cancer? The thought terrifies me. Chris would be so crushed.
"Morgan, Katie." The nurse says with a tired smile.
I quickly follow her in past the front desk. My hands shake. I step up to the scale and—WHOA! I've gained weight. I'm 159 pounds! I was 144 pounds last time I checked.
"What's your height?" The nurse says formally, writing this info down.
"5 foot 2." I say softly, "Can you tell me what my results where?"
"I'm afraid not." She takes me around the corner to a room. "Dr. Brooks will explain when she comes in."
The nurse, Jillian on her name tag, has me sit in the ridiculous chair. A lady in a nicer pair of scrubs walks in, smiling at me. Is she the OB/GYN?
"Dr. Brooks needs a date." The nurse says, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear. "F-For his monthly shot, Jane Galdenburg."
Jillian rolls her eyes. "He can take it up with the front desk."
The other nurse leaves. Jillian groans. I feel that.
"Doctors, huh?" I say with a smile.
"Men." Jillian smirks, shaking her head.
Chills run down my spine. "D-Dr. Brooks is a man?"
Jillian nods. "Yes, but don't worry, he knows what he's doing."
I nod my head slowly. I'm at the OB/GYN and they tell me I have a male doctor...okay, send me someone to tell me about MY uterus when the doctor doesn't even have one! My nerves are shot even more. Jillian takes my vitals and such, not really speaking to me. Why am I at the OB/GYN anyways? Do I have an ovarian problem? Ovarian cancer? Chills run down my spine.
"Dr. Brooks will be in shortly." Jillian leaves.
I grip the chair hard, my mind racing. All the possibilities that could be my illness. What if I'm dying? No! Oh, Chris....a knock at the door shakes me from my thoughts. Suddenly—WHOA THERE BUBBA GUM! A SUPER hot guy walks in with scrubs. He's tall, sandy brown hair, tan, blue eyes, perfect teeth, dreamy face, looks a lot like young Clint Eastwood—NO! He is not as fine as my Chris—but HOT DIGGITY DAMN! My core melts a bit. I try to cover it up by clearing my throat.
"Hello, Katie." Dr. Brooks's has a DEEP voice. LORD LET ME KEEP IT TOGETHER! "I'm Dr. Brooks. Nice to meet you."
I can't help but grin at him as he shakes my hand. I nervously chuckle, trying not to embarrass myself in front of the sculpture of a man. Too late, I'm gawking. I clear my throat and look away.
"So," my voice is higher than usual "what's the diagnosis? Cancer?"
Dr. Brooks chuckles. "No, no. None of that little lady."
Yes, Papí. Whatever you say Papí. Thank God Chris isn't here or this would be 5x more embarrassing.
I bite my lip, my eyes to the floor. "Then what is it?"
"Well, first I need to ask some questions." Dr. Brooks sits down in his backless spin chair, "First, are you on any prescribed medication?"
"I am—" I start to say.
"STOP taking them!" Dr. Yummy Pants says firmly, Sí Papí! "Do you smoke? Do drugs? Drink?"
"No and no, Papí—SIR!" I say with a weary smile, chuckling nervously "I've never smoked. I don't do drugs or drink any alcohol. I'm clean. I don't even drink coffee ha ha!"
Dr. Brooks smirks—can he just NOT for one second? Ahhhh! If I wasn't with Chris, the things I would do to this—KATIE. ISABELLE. MORGAN. KEEP. YOUR. CRAP. TOGETHER. WOMAN! He's just a man—WITH A FACE THAT LOOKS LIKE IT WAS SCULPTED BY ANGELS—but still just a man.
"Are you around anyone who smokes, drinks, does drugs, or enjoys a caffeinated drink?" Dr. Brooks smirks at me, making me melt on the inside.
"Well," I think of just about everyone I know "my fiancé drinks, which I don't support but whatever. He smokes little bit but he's been trying to cut back for a few months. Chris doesn't do drugs I know for a fact! And yes, he enjoys getting pumped with caffeine and a sugar rush throughout the day."
Dr. Brooks grins at me, shaking his head. "Are you always this humorous or am I just lucky?"
You could be luckier, Papí. "I tend to make people laugh when I'm nervous. Not all the time but today I heard I'm getting bad news."
"Oh?" Dr. Brooks says confused, "I guess it really depends on how you feel about this. It really is a debatable issue on both parties—WHICH I'm not allowed to discuss so I'll shut that subject down."
"So what do I have?" I say nervously, biting my lip.
"A bunch of growing tissue." Dr. Brooks says with a small smile.
I blink. "Is it contagious?"
Dr. Brooks lets out a loud laugh. "Sure hope not! But we'll have to keep a close eye on your uterus. A couple months ago, you had an ultrasound. The test results showed a few interesting things. For one, your uterus has a rare syndrome called Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. It's a hormonal disorder causing enlarged ovaries with small cysts on the outer edges. Some symptoms are menstrual irregularity, excess hair growth, acne, and obesity."
Oh, God. I have irregular periods! I occasionally have a little bit of acne! And I'm fat. So it's an actual thing and it's not just me alone!
"Ovarian cysts runs in my family." My Aunt Barb had them A LOT and they told her she couldn't have any kids at a young age so she ran off to be a Nun.
So does this mean I can't have kids? Am I incapable of carrying a child? How will Chris ever love me if I can't give him what he truly desires? My cheeks heat up and I can feel tears in the cornered my eyes.
"Also, you have a rare uterus called the heart shaped uterus." I give him a confused look, "It's something you were born with and it's not bad as it could be."
"So are my eggs bad?" I say sadly, my heart dropping to my stomach. "Am I infertile?"
"No?" Dr. Brooks gives me a confused look, "But we will have to monitor the fetus more closely than we would a person with an hourglass shaped uterus. It won't lay the right way as it develops."
A fetus? What's a fetus? My mind frantically thinks about that word. What does it mean? I know I've heard it before—
"Oh, my God." I put a hand over my mouth as tears escape my eyelids. "Ar-Are you telling me I'm—"
"Pregnant? Yes, ma' am. Five weeks to be exact." Dr. Brooks says seriously, "But this is a HIGH risk pregnancy."
I give him a confused look, a lump in my throat. "What does that mean?"
"Unfortunately, because of both conditions of your uterus, there is an extreme high chance of miscarriage later on in your pregnancy or a birth defect, which is four times as higher than a normal pregnancy." Dr. Brooks doesn't look me in the eyes when he talks, his smile gone.
I feel like someone has stabbed me in the chest. I can barely breathe. If I felt horrible about my body before, it is nothing compared to what hate and shame I feel now. Chris should have let me cut my fat off all those weeks ago. It seems like we didn't even have a chance in the first place.
"So there's a huge chance that I'll lose this baby?" Tears fall down my cheeks, "Could I still have another?"
"You can still carry this baby to full or near full term, it has happened before, but we need to be extra cautious. We may have to do a c-section if the baby's life or yours is in danger...which has also happened before. Not that this will happen to you, Miss Morgan, but some women have repeated miscarriages to the point where they become infertile." Dr. Brooks talks slow, "You just need to rest and keep an eye out for any signs of miscarriage. You immediately go into the emergency room and contact me if you see any of the warning signs here in the brochure. I'll set up a weekly visit for the next 34 weeks or however long this pregnancy last, whether we will have to do an emergency c-section or everything turns out alright."
Dr. Brooks hands me the brochure but I can barely process everything that goes on around me. I can't even remember when the lady at the front desk told me my appointment and printed out a paper for me. I don't remember even how I got into my car. I stare at all the vehicles around me, tears falling down my cheeks.
My mind races so fast it hurts. God, I feel like the world has dropped itself too my shoulders and I am about to collapse. Congratulations, I'm pregnant! But that doesn't mean that I can bring it to full term or even—my hand flies to my mouth as I sob. I'm broken and disordered inside. Not what I'm supposed to be. I may never have children and if I do, they'll probably have a birth defect because of me! What if my baby dies because I have a sucky uterus? I sob loudly, my chest aching. What am I going to tell Chris? CHRIS!
Suddenly, my heart drops to my stomach and I can feel it racing down in the acidic bile. Being eaten up by the acidity in my stomach contents, my heart forever changed. Chris REALLY wanted a family. It's one of his wishes and biggest desires. What if I can't even give him one baby? Much less two or more? Will he still look at me the same way? Kiss me the same way? Touch me the same? No, no, no, no, no, no, no! This is a nightmare. A nightmare that I cannot wake up from. I can't marry Chris. I can't hurt him like this. He deserves someone who can give him exactly what he wants and deserves: a family consisting of a wife and children. How can I ever look Chris in the face again? How can I tell him all of this? All the risk and almost certainties? It's unfair. It's unfair! My heart breaks at the thought of us growing apart as soon as we had grown together.
Hey Readers! So I actually do have Polycystic Ovary Syndrome and an extremely rare heart shaped uterus that I had since birth. When I found out all this, the OB/GYN didn't act as if it were life threatening by then again, I was still in high school and wasn't in a relationship where getting pregnant is a problem. Nor is it now cause I'm still young. But I read up on the conditions and they both just sound so awful and a lot of Katie's worries and concerns are mine so please just try and understand why I wrote this and why this part of the story is personal and starting to become a sucky one. I do apologize, I'll try to make it better and happier!
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In Your Arms
Fanfiction"I didn't want a fight." I look down in my lap sadly, "That's one of the reasons why I didn't want to tell you." Chris walks over and sits next to me. He puts an arm around my body, pulling me closer to him. He kisses the top of my head. I...
