Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Not knowing the answer to that question was what made my skin crawl most.
Adding more confusion to the pot was the fact that the third payment from Carter hit my bank account a few days after we’d set fire to our little agreement. And it wasn’t that I expected him to just take back his offer and not pay me the rest of what he promised, but now it felt… strange.
Tainted.
Like I was a part of some shady business instead of a clearly defined transaction like we’d had laid out before.
I wasn’t typically one for anxiety, but I was definitely having anxious thoughts. I was usually able to quell them by throwing myself into work or losing hours making jewelry. But right now, I was alone in a sterile room with nothing but time to think.
The good thing was that no matter how my mind raced, I didn’t feel unsure about Carter. I didn’t have any uncertainty about how I felt for him or how he felt for me.
And I decided at the end of the day, that was all that really mattered.
The rest, we could work out together.
But there was something I needed to do for myself first.
Which was why I was here now, butt-ass naked under a paper gown, waiting for my doctor to return and tell me what our next steps were for freezing my eggs.
I loved Carter. And I believed he loved me. But that didn’t stop the independence that had burned in me since my parents cut me off as a teenager. The truth of the matter was that I wouldn’t feel safe unless I was always looking out for myself, even if someone else was there to help carry the load.
And this, freezing my eggs, having a child one day… this was for me.
Carter and I had flippantly discussed it on our day off together, and I knew from that conversation that he didn’t want kids.
Maybe he would change his mind about that.
Maybe we’d have a kid together one day.
But I wasn’t willing to leave my dreams to chance.
This was still something I wanted, something that I felt deep in my soul like a tattooed fortune. The money he paid me for our arrangement still mattered to me. I already had my financial advisor tuck most of it away, getting it out of my bank account so I could pretend like it didn’t exist. I told her to invest it and put it in a high-yield savings, whatever she needed to do to protect it.
I would have a child one day.
And I would be able to provide for us, with or without the help of anyone else.
That was a promise I’d made to myself, and I was intent on keeping it.
Still, sitting there in the too-bright room, the crinkling paper beneath me loud with every nervous shift, I couldn’t help the old familiar whispers creeping in.
What if I was already too late?
What if I didn’t have as many eggs as I thought?
What if my body betrayed me the way people I loved had?
I tried to shake it off, even as my doctor’s warning about low AMH levels echoed in my mind. I took a long, slow breath and reminded myself that this was why I was here.
To get answers. To take control. To make a plan.
The door clicked open before I could spiral any further.
“Livia,” Doctor Stroud greeted warmly, clipboard tucked against her chest as she crossed the room. “Sorry for the wait. Fridays are notoriously hectic, no matter how we try to schedule them not to be.” She was all sweet, warm smiles and calm authority. “I know you understand.”
I nodded, trying to mirror her smile, though mine felt as stiff as the gown I wore.
Doctor Stroud seemed to clock that, her smile softening. “I know these appointments can be a little nerve-wracking, but you’re doing the right thing coming in.”
“Thanks,” I said, my voice scratchy from sitting with my thoughts too long.
She pulled up the stool and sat across from me, scanning my chart. “So, before we get into next steps, I do need to ask a few routine questions — just to have the full picture. These might be a bit repetitive from the nurse who took your vitals, but I just like to double-check things myself.”
Her smile was so comforting, and yet I still felt my stomach somersault the way it had all appointment. “Okay.”
“Are you sexually active?”
“Yes.”
“One partner? Multiple?”
“One,” I answered quickly, then cleared my throat. “Just one.”
“Any contraception being used?”
“I’m on birth control, but otherwise, no.”
Doctor Stroud nodded, jotting a note, then glanced back at me. “And how long have you two been together?”
My cheeks heated. “It’s… new,” I admitted.
“Alright.” She smiled, reassuring, and set her pen down. “So, typically, we’d start with a baseline scan of your ovaries, hormone testing, and a discussion about your timeline. We’d also talk about retrieval cycles and what medications you’d need to begin in order to stimulate production.”