After the holiday season dies down and everyone gets back into their routines, I as a January baby get ready for my birthday.  Usually it is something I look forward to.  A night out with my husband, hearing from friends old and new, near and far on Facebook, presents and flowers, what would make me feel different this year? Turning 39.  Yup.  My last year in my 30’s.  This by far was a paralyzing thought unlike any other to me.

My husband spoiled me, my staff celebrated all day, my family showered me with love but I was sad.  I felt like the clock was ticking faster and louder than ever and if I didn’t have a baby soon it just might not happen for me.  How could this be? How could something I want so bad, something I would be so amazing at be something so hard to achieve?

I don’t know if it was the idea of it being a new year, or turning 39, but all of the sudden I had more fight in me than ever before.  I had never been one to give up or back down and I would be damned to let that happen now.

Every year I go to the Gynecologist around my birthday for my annual exam.  As the daughter of a breast cancer survivor, it is a gift I give myself.  I had been going to the same doctor since I was 18 and I went in ready to tackle the baby issue head on.

When I entered the exam room I began to get nervous. I hadn’t been on a scale in months and hadn’t had my pressure checked either. I felt and honestly looked good so I figured it couldn’t be that bad. Boy was I surprised and THRILLED to learn I had lost nearly 40 pounds! Yes.  You read that correctly.  It was 37 pounds to be exact and my pressure was 128/80.  I felt like a million dollars!

My doctor came in and after saying hello immediately addressed the elephant in the room… “Still not pregnant?”  I sadly nodded my head and said we could talk about that after my exam to which she said, “No, we can talk about that first.”

I kept hearing the words to Rachel Platten’s “Fight Song” in my head and rediscovered my strength and fire.  I told my doctor how disappointed I was with the practice she sent me to over a year ago.  I shared my experience and said I was not treated like a person, a patient, just a number, and a statistic that wasn’t up to their standards.   I reminded my doctor that I was more than a chart.  I repeated “I am Pamela. I wanted to be treated as Pamela and not as anyone else.”

She apologized for my bad experience and asked if I would be up for trying a new doctor at a different practice.  She said this practice was different and believed they would be just what I needed.  She said all my numbers were great and the only thing that should matter was the dreaded number 39…nothing should be more important than that.

She gave me a phone number to call and said she hoped to see me back, pregnant in a few months.

Was I turning a corner? Here’s to hoping.