Screw You Jason Mraz

*As promised below is my first post about my journey with fertility and endometriosis. These blog posts will be very different than my previous pieces as you will soon realize. Please feel free to share these with women, men, couples that are trying to navigate the process of becoming parents. If you all would like to correspond privately please feel free to contact me directly at Monique.a.dozier@gmail.com*

A woman walked by with Coco Chanel booties on her toy Maltese. White people! However it wasn’t just the footwear given to pups by their kardashian-ish owners that forewarned me I wasn’t in my neck of the woods anymore; it was the four dollars demanded from me by the parking attendant for a thirty minute fertility appointment. FOUR DOLLARS! Who the hell did La Jolla think it was? Nevertheless I paid the parking attendant as a direct order from Jason Mraz.

As I made the 45 minute trek from Oceanside to La Jolla for what some considered the best baby mama maker to the stars Jason serenaded me with his lyrics.

“When I look into your eyes
It’s like watching the night sky
Or a beautiful sunrise
There’s so much they hold
And just like them old stars
I see that you’ve come so far
To be right where you are
How old is your soul?”

Listen I am black. I like Beyonce and on a rough day a little Kanye, so clearly I had no idea how old a damn sunrise’s soul was. But by time he finished the chorus I was sobbing.

“I won’t give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I’m giving you all my love
I’m still looking up”

And by the second chorus I was belting out the newly learned song lyrics. I was singing to my unconceived child! I knew it and I didn’t particularly care that the passengers at the light knew either. No traffic, no four dollar parking, no endometriosis was going to stop me from giving up on my dream of being a mother. I hopped out the car, rang for the elevator and checked into my appointment. I was on a high and the entire room knew it. They called for me and I nearly skipped into the exam room to await the doctor’s orders for my fertility plan.

The initial portion of the appointment went just like any first date. Awkward exchanges of identifying information, forced giggles, and brief convo about the person who hooked us up. But just 10 minutes into the date we went from PG13 to XXX. I was half naked, laid out on a table, while an apparatus was being sanitized in the back. And just like a lot of blind dates gone bad, after he was done we both looked disgusted. “You have a fibroid in your uterus.”

Look, I’ve been on a bad date, but never had I been dumped like this!

“I am not sure if it is causing blockage to your fallopian tubes or not but we need to order some test”. And just like that everything faded to grey. The nurse handed me a laundry list of detailed directions on numbers to call, antibiotics to take, explained what a needle in my cervix would feel like, and told me to go see a doctor about my blood pressure. Her words were like background noise at a concert and I was center stage screaming “SCREW YOU JASON MRAZ” in the microphone.

I felt violated by his promise. I didn’t have to give up when my uterus was. After all the months of dieting, resisting gluten, taking vitamins the size of my thumbs I was told my uterus was betraying me. I didn’t shed one tear. I was too angry to cry. I drove nearly 90mph all the way home, turned the key, and ate ice cream. I refused to talk about the appointment for days. After days of watching me become numb my husband enticed me out the house with promises of gluten filled pastries. As I completed my order the clerk looked at me and asked “anything else”?

“Yes! A baby bitch!”

The words never left my thoughts, but my heart wasn’t given the memo because before I knew it I was running out the store in tears. It was the first time I had mourned my fertility appointment; mourned the possibility of never becoming a mother; mourned that life just wasn’t fair. We sat in front of the doughnut shop for what seemed like hours and just held hands. There were no words to exchange. He let me sob through dinner, through our favorite show, and even through sleep. I would suddenly awake and he would be there waiting for me to move closer.

Sometimes God takes us through journey’s to teach us lessons. Some about faith, some about passion, and even some about patience; I was learning all these, but the lesson that rang the loudest was the lesson of committment. When I refused to speak, bathe, and even smile my husband never strayed. That day I realized Jason Mraz had nothing on Byron Dozier.

Always with love,

Modo