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“I’m not at liberty to say, the doctor will need to be the one to confirm, but we need to see what’s going on first and once we do we can figure out if it is or not.”
How many times does she tell a woman this? How is she not even fazed when telling me? I’m freaking out, her answer didn’t bring me any reassurance. My freak out is interrupted and my eyes bulge from my head when she pulls out what I’m assuming is the transducer.
What the hell is that thing? The long tool looks like a long, thin dildo, an angry one! Sure, Trey is gifted and can fill me up like nothing else, but this thing looks alien-like. I’m sure if she enters that thing, it will break me. Promise you that.
“Don’t look so scared, sweetie, you’re sexually active so it shouldn’t hurt too much.” Her attempt at easing me fails, that things looks dangerous. I don’t care if I’ve had sex, she’s coming at me with a pole, and she thinks I should be calm? How would she feel if I was coming in hot on her with that thing?
“Deep breaths and relax, tensing up will only make it worse.”
“Sure.” She chuckles; I’m glad she finds this humorous. You know, I take back the whole ‘she makes me comfortable with her bubbly personality’ thing. The lubed up probe enters me, actually invades me, and I try my best to not clamp. I take deep breaths and stare up at the ceiling, finding patterns and shapes to distract me. She moves it around for a minute or so, and I swear we’re in a new decade by the time she finally lets up.
“Oh.”
Oh?
“What is it?” She types some words over the images she’s taking before she pulls out the probe of death.
“I’m not allowed to say, I’m only a technician. I’m going to get a doctor. I’ll be back.”
Watching her leave the room, I take a few deep breaths and can’t help but wonder what she found. I can’t stop thinking the worst, first it’s tilted and now there’s something going on in there?
I rub my hand over my lower stomach, begging God to wake me up from this nightmare. My fingers tremble and my chest shakes in heavy sobs. Please don’t let this be anything, please don’t let this be another trial that will destroy me—or Trey.
WHEN WE FOUND OUT IT was the cysts and tumors, I asked them to remove them. But, they couldn’t. They’re wrapped around major vessels, while also variously lining my fallopian tubes and uterine wall. Some we can remove and some we can’t due to their placement. This, combined with the tilting, makes me nearly infertile, with low chances of ever conceiving.
The doctor’s voice faded out after he told me that. All the medical mumble jumble getting lost while I spaced out. No children. No family. No future of building a life with Trey. Want to talk about a week from hell. This secret’s only piling on top of everything else. I really don’t know how I can stay strong. Any more of these constant slaps in the face and I may snap.
Me crying right now to my brother, baring my burdens, isn’t just about Pops or Evan. It’s about the second death that I had to face. Learning about the possibility of never having kids was a death to me, a death over the first steps I may never get, the first words, or the first smiles. The death of the first time Trey would hold our child in his arms. He said to me he wanted children, he told me he would want kids with me, and I’m possibly taking that away, my useless, angry body may ruin our future.
I can’t tell Trey this right now; he’s already been through enough. This isn’t what he needs, and telling him isn’t something I can do right now either.
Tomorrow is the funeral, and I need to get some sort of rest if I’m going to be able to handle the day. My brother and Lana talk with me until my eyes can barely stay open. Slumber pulls me under with the weight of all my troubles.
I WAKE UP, FEELING A gentle tug on my toes. Opening my eyes slowly, I see Lana standing above me.
“It’s time to get up, the funeral’s in a few hours.” I nod and take a few minutes to let my eyes adjust to the light.
“Did you hear if Trey’s up?” I ask, walking up to where Lana is pouring us some coffee, filling me a cup all the way to the brim, like she knows I’ll need it.
“No, I just had Kings go check before he got in the shower. Trey was still asleep.” I just shake my head in amusement; those two are a puzzle, I swear.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” she inquires, handing me my cup. The warm shell of the mug feels comforting against my skin. She can play dumb all she wants but her merry-go-round with my brother is making us all dizzy.
“You two are too much, just get together already.”
Smiling, she moves to the fridge to grab some eggs for breakfast. “Nah. Besides, I heard sex after you start dating isn’t as fun.” She jokes.
“Well, they must’ve had small dicks, because my sex life is phenomenal with Trey.” I think about Trey making love to me and it makes my core clench, causing my panties to go wet. We haven’t had sex in a week, which doesn’t sound like much, but when you are going through moments of hardship, you miss that connection. I miss my man.
“Whore.”
“Slut.”
“Baby?”
I turn fast to see Trey standing in the hallway entrance. He’s dressed in only a pair of dark gray sweatpants that are clinging low to his waist. His hair is sticking out every which way; his beard is a darker shade then the hair on his head, with hints of gray. He may only be twenty-four, but he is just like his dad was, their beards have gray hair. I stop and think how I just said that. I said he is just like his dad was, reminding me of what today is. I hate that I have these moments where I’m laughing one minute and blindsided with reality the next. Like a fresh kick in the ass reminding me that things are complete…shit.
“Morning, handsome. You hungry?” I ask as I stand up and walk over to the coffee pot to pour him some. I can tell he’s lost a couple of pounds from lack of eating, so I throw on some toast while he takes a seat at the counter. I look over my shoulder and see him staring at me, my stomach flips when he looks down at my ass and the length of my legs. I just want to make love to him, I want to connect again, let all of this hurt out and show it through our lovemaking.
