The End

So today I revisited a very painful place for me. A place I have avoided for over three and a half years. A place I really couldn't avoid any longer. My OB/GYN office.  
The last time I was in that office was for my post-partum checkup. It was October 3,2007. Yes. I remember the date. You would be surprised to know just how many dates a woman remembers when she loses a child,or in my case....two children. 
Now-as most of you know (well, all of my female followers anyway) we are supposed to be diligent and visit our friendly "special doctor" once a year for a comprehensive checkup of all things female. The theory is , and it's more of a medical fact really, that if we follow through with our obligation to visit once a year we will be rewarded with the best shot at preventing many things and catching others early enough to not only treat them but survive them. So,like a good girl, I visited. Faithfully. And I was rewarded. Repeatedly. 
I was rewarded with six incredibly beautiful and amazing babies, two of whom were delivered by this particular "special doctor". I was rewarded (in theory) with catching the cervical cancer cells early enough (4 times) to have them removed and the 5th time to have it removed for good (although much more invasively).I was rewarded with overall great health in all things female for years and years. 
And then it happened. 
I visited my wonderful "special doctor" and was told I was pregnant. Three weeks later I was told I was having identical twins. Six weeks later I was told they were girls. Eight weeks after that I was told they had died. In that office. In that room. By that doctor. 
The six or so weeks after "that day" are clear as day and yet foggy as pea soup. (My BLM's will know exactly what I mean by that.) When I went back to that office,that room,that doctor it was for my six week post-partum visit. To make sure I was ok and healing well. I was neither. Medically yes. Emotionally......spiritually......to my core I was not. I was not ok. I was not healing. I was broken in a way that a person who has lost a child can never fully explain and a person who hasn't can never fully comprehend. I cried,sobbed really,from the moment I walked into the reception area. The tears racked my body and shook me to the very center of my being. The nurses were amazing and my doctor....that doctor.....phenomenal. Nonetheless I walked out wondering if I would ever be able to visit that doctor.......in that office.....without reliving the moment that forever had changed the fiber of my existence. 
Today I got my answer. It's been three years and six and a half months since the last time I walked into that office. So it was time. Yes,I could have changed doctors in order to maintain my obligation of regular yearly exams. But as ALL women know.....when you find "THE" special doctor who is right for you.......you just don't leave him/her. It becomes like a solid marriage.....you remain loyal and faithful no matter what. For "the right" doctor we women will wait hours for him/her to return from a last minute delivery rather than risk seeing someone else in the practice. We schedule MONTHS in advance in order to remain faithful when "the other" doctor could squeeze us in tomorrow. So I returned. To that office. To that doctor. Thankfully......not to that room. 
The office staff remembered me. They all greeted me with smiles and warmth and while I know it was all genuine I couldn't help wondering if they were thinking "please don't let her cry" or "ooooohhhh......that's the woman whose twins died....". Why wouldn't they? I was. 
My doctor was - as he has always been-wonderful. He treated me with warmth and compassion. We discussed the kids, life, any questions or issues I might have and, of course, we discussed the twins. While I didn't cry.....I did tear up just once, for a moment. My doctor discussed the course he wants to take with me and hugged me goodbye. I made my next appointment and left that office. Again. But this time.....I was ok. I thought. 
When I got in my car.......I broke. The tears came and kept coming. It was like a summer storm. One minute I was all sunshine and blue skies and the next......BAM! The sky opened up and down it poured. But I wasn't crying because of where I was or where I had been. This time I wasn't crying because this is where my heart was broken beyond repair. This time...I wasn't crying over what I had lost. This time I was crying over what I will never have. 
When Chloe and Zoe died I made a decision. They would be my last children. They would be the last babies I carried inside of me. Ever. Granted,it was an emotional choice. Made out of the devastation of a shattered woman. Made out of fear of my inability to ever endure another pregnancy "in case" something were to ever happen again. And so I chose. The moment my daughters were delivered my chances of ovulating and becoming pregnant again were surgically ended. Against the advice of my doctors, my mother and most of my friends.....I had my tubes tied. Chloe and Zoe were my last children. Even though I still ache to be pregnant again and would love to have another baby (or six) I know deep down it was the right choice for me then and is till the right choice for me now. 
But today that choice seems to have been finalized beyond any and all reparatory possiblities. Next week I will go back to that office...and that doctor....and I will begin the process of surgical endometrial ablation. In common everyday terms....my womb will be destroyed. I will never carry another child. Ever. So I sobbed. 
I sobbed for the finality of it all. I sobbed because knowing I won't ever have another baby and knowing I can't are two different things. And they are worlds apart. I sobbed because even though I know I am abundantly blessed and am content with the six blessings I have here on Earth......I know I will ONLY have six blessings here on Earth. I sobbed for the sense of loss I feel for myself knowing I can never have another child. And more than that-I sobbed.....to the center of my being.......for the sense of loss I felt for some of the most incredible women I have ever met. 
So many of my BLM sisters are moving mountains in an unrelenting effort to become pregnant and have their blessings here on Earth. Several of them, too many really, have endured more loss in their journey than most could fathom ever surviving. They are taking every step available to carry a child within their wombs. And I am destroying mine. There just seems to be something unfair about that. And so.....outside of that office.....after seeing that doctor.....I sobbed.