What Will it Matter?

I was supposed to start my period on the 13th of September, a Sunday. I am always regular, so when it didn't come, my mind and my heart started to wonder. Monday came and still nothing. Maybe? Maybe?! I took a test on Tuesday, negative. Wednesday and Thursday came and went and still no period. Maybe I got a false-negative test? Just maybe I did have a precious baby growing inside of me? Regardless, I prayed for him or her to grow strong and properly.

Friday came with no period, but I couldn't get myself to drive to Walmart and spend $15 on something I knew, just knew, would be a disappointment. So I had a nurse do it instead. As I waited in the doctor's office, I held on to a teeny tiny inclining of hope that maybe, just maybe, the nurse would look at me, with tears in her eyes, I am sure (because all the nurses know my situation) and show me that it was positive.

I peed in the cup then walked back to the waiting room. "What would I do if it was actually positive?" I thought. Seriously though, what would I do? Scream? Cry? (more like bawl my eyes out) Ask to do another test to be sure? What would I do? Rachael Ray's cooking show was playing on the TV in the corner of the room, and I tried to allow the cooking of the raw chicken consume my thoughts.

Then, through the frosty glass door, I saw the nurse walking toward me. She opened the door and asked me to come step in the hallway. She was holding the test when she looked at me and said, "Well Tahshena, we are only seeing one line. I'm sorry. If you still haven't started in two weeks, come back and we'll try again." I smiled the fakest smile, and thanked her. I smiled the fakest smile to the receptionist and told her to have a good day.

I cried, sobbed all the way home. I was so mad at myself to even think that maybe I was pregnant. Why would I even go to the extreme of going to the doctor to have them do a test?! It was hard enough having to tell myself that I wasn't pregnant, but why did I make someone else have to tell me? What was I thinking?! Did you actually think you were pregnant, Tahshena? The car is a good place to cry- you can be as loud as you want and you can play Taylor Swift as loud as you want to try and drown out the noise.

As I turned the corner to pull into the garage, I contained myself, gripping the steering wheel and said out loud, "Oh Tahshena, suck it up. You know how to deal with this. You've been doing it for 4 years. Seriously, suck it up. You're fine." I dried my eyes and walked inside.

My surgery to remove the remainder of my septum was scheduled for the middle of October. The surgery has to be performed between days 5-11 of my period, and because I'm always (usually) regular, I was able to schedule it for the following month. Well, this was throwing everything off. I called my infertility nurse, and she told me that if I haven't started by next Friday, to call her and she'd call in medication that would force me to start so that we could do the surgery as planned.

The following Monday, now September 21st, a week and a day late, still no period. Maybe the doctor's test was wrong too? Maybe my hCG levels were just really low and the tests couldn't detect it? That evening, Monday, Coulton and I rode our bikes to a yummy hamburger joint here in Rexburg. As we got closer to campus, there were students crossing the street. One of them recognized Coulton and walked over. He's an older student, probably in his late 30s, from Argentina. Coulton knew him from work and they chatted for a bit, mostly about school. Then all of the sudden, he looked to me, and asked, "Do you have children?" I responded with a half grin, "No." "Oh children are just wonderful," he said. "They bring so much joy and love. Really, you don't know love until you have a child. It's just something you can't experience until you have one of you own." Hey dude from Argentina, do you know something? Maybe I am pregnant? Who just randomly says that?

The next day, Tuesday, we had a Relief Society activity. I knew that the activity was going to consist of making emergency preparedness kits for our cars, mostly for the freezing winter months. What I didn't know was that Sister Eyring (President Eyring's daughter-in-law) was coming to speak to us about spiritual preparedness. She spoke about her experience of infertility and also her daughter's. I am amazed at how many women have also gone through this type of hell. I wanted to hug her and tell her I was sorry. What else is there to say? But her message was powerful and she reminded me, "It's all in the Lord's time and trials are here to strengthen us."

Wednesday. No period. Thursday morning, no period. I was now 11 days late. I was talking to my sister-in-law, telling her what was going on. My family was hoping just as much as I was. After I hung up with her, I stood up to go into the kitchen for a drink. And there it was. All at once. And for the next 4 days, it ate me from the inside out. Not only was my physical body in so much pain, but my heart hurt. I never cried, for my own pep talk to "suck it up" worked, but it still hurt.

Saturday night was the General Women's broadcast. Although I sat in the chapel with probably one hundred other girls, I felt as though President Uchtdorf was speaking directly to me, and only to me, when he said, (not directly, but from my own notes) "Even when things don't go right, we can focus on the wonders and miracles of life. We were created to have joy. Faith and hope give confidence that everything will make sense and all things will be made right. I have a choice- hang my head or have faith and be happy."

The infertility nurse was excited to hear that I started on my own, and suggested that we do the surgery during this period instead of waiting for my next one. So we scheduled it for Friday, October 2nd, in 3 days, almost one year to the day since my last surgery. I am really looking forward to it, and am so excited!

I am still holding onto the hope that what we are doing and what the doctors are doing will help us bring a baby, a little miracle, into our lives. But if not, I can focus on the wonders and the miracles of life that I've already been given.