Oh my God. Am I dying?
“So?” I prompt, when he doesn’t say anything. “Am I pregnant?”
He hesitates, then pushes a box of tissues across the desk to me. I stare at it, fear beating in my throat.
“What?” I whisper. “What’s wrong?”
He clears his throat. “Your blood tests came back negative for pregnancy.”
“Oh.” I consider that. I’m not sure how I feel. I didn’t reallywantto be pregnant; now isn’t the right time at all. But I can’t help the little pang of disappointment that ripples through me. “Then why did I miss my period?”
“I’m afraid that your blood tests revealed an issue with your hormone levels. It appears that you’re currently going through a premature menopause.”
I stare at him. “Menopause? I’m only twenty-six.”
“Premature menopause can happen at virtually any age. It can be triggered by medical treatments and autoimmune issues, but the largest risk factor is genetic. Did any of the women in your family go through menopause in their twenties?”
My head is spinning. “I don’t know. I don’t know any of my family.” He raises an eyebrow. “I grew up in care.”
“Ah. I see how that could be an issue.”
I swallow hard. “So… what does this mean? Will I have to take hormones, or something?”
He nods. “Yes, you’ll have to undertake some hormone treatment to counteract any potential health issues later in life. Early menopause can lead to osteoporosis and cardiovascular issues.”
“But I’ll be fine as long as I take the pills?”
He gives me a sympathetic look. “For the most part. Unfortunately, in terms of fertility, the effects of the menopause cannot be reversed.”
My heart starts beating faster. “What do you mean?”
“Your ovaries are no longer releasing eggs. You cannot have children.”
“But—I only just started feeling symptoms.” My voice is getting higher as I start to panic. “Doesn’t it take, like, years to go through menopause?”
“Judging by the FSH levels in your blood, it’s likely you’ve been feeling symptoms for years. The symptoms of perimenopause are very similar to premenstrual syndrome symptoms.”
I stare at him. “Can’t I freeze my eggs, or something? I had a period—” I try to count back the weeks, but my brain is filling with static. “It wasn’t that long ago!”
“Since you’re still getting occasional periods, it’s possible that you’ll still have some viable eggs. But…” He hesitates, sympathy softening his eyes. “I really wouldn’t get your hopes up, Beth. The chances are low. Maybe, if we caught it earlier...”
He keeps talking, but I can’t hear him. All I can hear is my own shaky breathing in my ears, and the rain starting to splash against the windowpanes of the surgery. I flex my fingers, trembling. My skin is fizzing and numb. I’m so full of emotions, I don’t even know what I’m feeling. All I know is it hurts.
The doctor finishes talking and looks at me expectantly.
“Thank you,” I whisper, standing shakily and taking the prescription he hands me. “Thanks so much.”
I turn and walk back through the waiting room in a haze, barely registering the receptionist saying goodbye to me. Right as I reach the door, it opens. A heavily pregnant woman steps inside, holding hands with a man. They’re both laughing, shaking rainwater out of their clothes and hair. I freeze, staring at them, my heart beating out of my chest.
She’snormal. She can have a baby. Why? Why? What does she have that I haven’t? I start breathing harder, tears pressing behind my eyes.
“Are you alright, love?” The woman asks. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
I nod silently, slipping past her and heading out into the rain.
It’s falling in buckets. I’m immediately drenched as I run back to my car, clutching my purse to my chest. I climb inside, slamming the door behind me, and then just sit there, soaked and panting, listening to the water drumming against the windows and car doors.
Then I start to cry quietly, pulling out my phone.