That sense of dread is back. You know the one. That settles in the bottom of your stomach. The one that takes sudden control of your ability to smile, laugh, and even talk. It's back. With a vengance.
I was doing ok. (Won't say great, or even good. Wasn't doing that well.) But I was ok. Then, last night, it hit me again. DH and I were laying in bed, talking about stupid stuff, and then all of a sudden, we weren't. We were talking about the Doc. appt. It's in 19 days. 19! That is going to fly by, and I am soooo scared. Thankfully, my DH is a wonderful man, who knows I really, really suck at finding things. So he's taken on the brunt of the research about low hormone levels and XXY karyotype. Bless him.
He told me that the genetic one is very unlikely, since he shows NONE of the symptoms. Great news, hopefully he's right. (He does like to do things the hard way...) He said the hormone pills take a few months, but he said if there's even a couple little spermies in his next SA, it's a good sign.
But what if it's neither? What if we go in, and Dr. B has no clue? What if he tells us it's just "one of those things"? Or what if it's something worse we've never even considered?
And then, of course, as bad as not knowing is, I'm afraid knowing will be worse. If it's bad news, knowing will be worse. The dread will eat me alive.