Fate:

I remember as a child being given a doll. I can't remember her name but a vivid picture of her still remains in memory. She was a hand-me-down doll, about 50 centimetres tall, with forever gaping blue eyes and dead-straight brown hair. I remember cradling her, bathing her, changing her. I remember using my mother's shawl to make a cot. With its edges strung across the door handle I'd rock her to and fro off to sleep like she was my baby. She was the first of many dolls I owned throughout my childhood. The first of many baby dolls that planted the seed of desiring motherhood in my heart. I have always wanted to be a mother. My mother was and still is my role model in so many ways - when I think of being mother. When I think of motherhood I see a safe haven, I see trust, unconditional love, sacrifice, loyalty, I think of undying perseverance. I see a full time gig I'd take in a heartbeat every time. 

I guess that's why I felt completely and utterly barren when I was first told I may have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. When my period didn't come for six months at a time I knew something may not be right. My safe haven - my mother, told me it was normal for girls my age (I was fourteen). At 16 my doctor said it was nothing to worry about. But when I was 18  the dirty word - 'PCOS' was finally brought up. When I first given an indication that something could potentially stop me from having the children I had visualised since day one, I did what every millennial in 2016 would do - I jumped on the internet and researched until I the sun came up. By 9am the next day, I had already booked an appointment with my gynaecologist. When I was back in Lanka I always went to the doctor with either my parents or my grandmother. In Australia, I found myself taking the 19 to the university health centre. Nothing can compare to the feeling I felt when I had my first ultrasound. Empty your bladder 3 hours before. Drink 4 glasses full an hour before the appointment. Sitting in the waiting room I was mentally preparing myself. I kept saying to myself "its just like a blood test, just like any other health check". When I actually got into the room, hoisted my shirt up and felt the cool gel touch my belly I felt my chest suddenly sinking. In my head I always visualised having my first ultrasound with my partner in the room when I fell pregnant. Never had I thought I'd be on the bench, alone, looking for something that could potentially rob me of a dream I had nurtured since inception.