Dread

I sat in the hysteroscopy room the other day, feeling something resembling dread. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to hear any more bad news. The room was thick with it. I was quiet, pensive.

I need to wrench LG away from the television so we can go to my baseline monitoring appointment. I don't want to go. I don't want to start this process of near daily blood draws and ultrasounds. I don't want to start because I don't want it to fail. And it feels bound to, like everything else. Just once I want to sit in amazement and watch what my body can do.