Yesterday was my surgery for Asherman's. For those who don't know it's a rare uterine scar tissue condition. Typical brought on by a d&c. Mine was an abortion at age 18. A stupid young girl having a one night stand and the condom broke. Now that decision has come back to haunt my marriage as a ball of scar tissue contributing to our infertility. 3 scans, 2 rounds of provera and clomid. And yesterday intrauterine surgery to remove the scar tissue. I was sitting in pre op for 3 hours as the surgeon was running behind due to previous complicated surgeries. 3 hours with a painful iv stuck in my arm as it was a nursing students first attempt and she blew out the vein. 3 hours of wishing I was anywhere else. Somewhere where creating a baby was a happy serene place with candles and rose petals. Not this cold hospital with a gown that barely covers your privates and nurses trying to make small talk saying "it's all going to be fine". Well it wasn't fine. I walked to the operating room and when the cold air and bright lights struck me, my anxiety won. I started shaking and crying hysterically unable to hop onto the surgical table. They kept tell me to think of somewhere else I'd rather be...home I said. I just wanted to go home. With my husband kissing me on forehead and my dog by my feet. Anywhere but here. This science experiment forcing me to relive my sins. They grabbed my arm and sedated me as fast as possible, tears rolling down my cheeks. I should've run. They were trying to do the right thing. But I should've run. I woke up feeling as if a baseball bat had struck my stomach. I yelled to nurse to get my husband  so I could go home. I was not staying here a moment longer than I had to. And then my faith cracked..... I couldn't keep this up. The sadness of trying. The pain from all the testing. Trust me I know there are numerous women who have been they much greater struggle than I... But this was my tipping moment. I can no longer face the possibility that no matter what I do my body continues to betray me. That I continue to be the 2% of complications. Years of hoping, testing, and optimism against all odds. Well anxiety you've won. I start birth control next week and this dream is shattered. The guest room will remain a guest room. The playroom will go back to an office and the dreams of a little family will fade away. I should be happy. I have a husband who understands and doesn't mind if we never have kids, despite his longing for a little girl. But I can't be strong any more. I can't hurt anymore. All I can do is pick up the pieces and figure out who I was before the exhaustion of TTC. Goodbye ladies. I hope your journey ends better than mine.