Hope In The Waiting

One of the most important things you can do for yourself; no matter what journey you’re on, whether it’s trying to conceive, changing careers, or moving to pursue a dream, is to listen when your body speaks to you.

After about six months of trying to conceive with nothing happening, I felt like my body was quietly saying, “Hey… something isn’t right.” At first, I ignored it. Even when the signs were clear, I convinced myself it was nothing.

Oh, anxiety and I, we know each other far too well.

For the first half of that year, I shrugged it off. I told myself those thoughts were just meaningless worries my anxiety had fabricated. Each new concern that surfaced, I sent straight to the invisible shredder in my mind, burying it.

But burying worries or problems doesn’t make them disappear. You can only bury so much before the stench starts to seep through.

As the eleven-month mark approached, I finally decided to listen. That quiet, tired voice, the one that had tried to get my attention months earlier, never wavered. It kept whispering, “Something isn’t right.”

So, I made an appointment with a gynecologist. Yay me! These appointments are always so much fun. (If you can’t tell by the sarcasm, I don’t exactly enjoy being probed as if my body is being examined by extraterrestrials from a far-off galaxy.)

The nurse came in and began asking questions about my menstrual cycle. Easy enough, right? I’m a woman, I know what a period is.

But as I sat in that cold, gray plastic chair, I suddenly went silent. I found myself scrambling for my phone, secretly Googling the very questions she was asking me.

• “What cycle day are you on?”
• “What is your cycle length?”
• “When was your last positive ovulation test?”
• “How long does your period last?”
• “Do you have pain before, during, or after your period?”
• “What color is your period?”
• “Do you have clots?”

This was only a snapshot of the questions. I felt overwhelmed and honestly, a little embarrassed. I answered as best as I could and admitted that I didn’t know some of the answers.

She reassured me gently, “That’s okay. It doesn’t have to be exact. We can estimate.”

After what felt like an intense interrogation, she entered the information into the computer and told me the gynecologist would be in shortly. A few minutes passed, though it felt like an eternity, before he walked in.

He was an older man with a reputation for being professional, thorough, and knowledgeable. 

He looked at me and asked,
“So, what brings you in today?”

I took a deep breath and explained my concerns.

He brushed them aside almost immediately.

Because it hadn’t been a full year (only eleven months), he wasn’t willing to pursue anything.

“I’m not worried about you yet,” he said.

I tried again. I restated my concerns.

He told me to schedule another appointment once it had been twelve months.

In that moment, I felt helpless. Defeated. And yet, my body was still speaking, still saying, “Hey… listen to me. Something isn’t right.”

So I did.

I began doing my own research, learning about the menstrual cycle, hormones, women’s health, and trying to conceive. What started as curiosity turned into something much bigger.

That decision put me on a life-changing journey, one I will never forget.