Previously …

If you read any of the “about” page, you might have noticed that we started trying to get pregnant back in June of 05.  If you read the first entry, you might have noticed that I have another blog.  Together, these might lead you to conclude that part of my story has already been written.  And you would be correct in that assumption.  So the next few entries are going to be copied from my original journal, edited only for personal details and relevance. 

What happened to the level-headed, unworried, zen girl who was here yesterday? She has been replaced by a chart-stalking monster completely focused on whether or not she is *pregnant*.  That’s right, I’ve started another 2ww (or two week wait, for you non-TTC folks).  My friends from FF already know my story, but to catch the rest of you up, here’s the plotline: met [Manly] in 2000, went on Depo-Provera until spring 2004, swapped over to BCP on the advice of my NP, came off the pill in June 2005, was anovulatory until October 2005, then had two ovulatory cycles with BFN.  That makes this my third cycle with the dreaded wait, during which I am a nervous wreck. 

[Manly] wanted two kids by the time he was 30, but that didn’t happen.  He’s going to turn 31 in May, so it looks like we’ll be doing well to have a baby before he turns 32.  Remember  that I’m only 25, and I’m not nearly as worried about this as he is.  His parents are desperate for grandchildren, but my brother and sister are still in high school, so my parents are not quite as eager.  His father knows we’re trying, and I think his mom has figured it out, but the rest of the family is still bombarding us with “when are you two going to have kids?”  And since I’m a snotty bitch who prefers to keep my private life private, I politely point out that my BIL was married three months before us, so go bother them.  [Manly] is not nearly as polite and tells them that we’re never having kids.  At which point we get a disgusted sigh (cause his aunts know that he’s lying) and they go sulk.  Which works for me.

Part of me is very excited that we’re trying to get pregnant.  I love my friends’ kids, and I’m looking forward to having a family of my own.  I get all mushy inside when I see beautiful kids out in the world (like the little boy on the running track at the gym last night — he was a DOLL) and think, I want one just like that.  Part of me really wants to have kids before my BIL and his wife (yes, I’m a competitive bitch, I know) so that we can have the first grandchild.  But the rest of me is terrified that I’m going to be a horrible mother.  What happens if they hate me?  What happens if I hate them?  I’m planning on working full-time, and [Manly] is going to be a SAHD, so will they think I don’t love them?  Will I be as focused on my career after they arrive?  Will I be able to keep my career during/after pregnancy?  I pointed out to some friends once that it would be much better for us to have an OOPS! baby, because then I wouldn’t have a chance to wonder if we were doing the right thing.  

There’s a link to my FF chart if you want to follow along with me the next two weeks.  I’m going to try not to post about the agony of the wait every day, but I’ll let you know how things turn out, one way or the other.  Now, does anyone have any suggestions to keep my mind off my damn chart for the next two weeks?

And as the title says, I am not pregnant again this month. I was hoping, but alas, it is not meant to be.  I think I took it a lot better this month because I never got around to taking a test.  So when my period showed, it wasn’t the same crushing blow.  Now I can have a cigarette and a glass of wine without guilt, so I will probably indulge a little this weekend.  The FF software kind of ticked me off this time though.  It gave me an original test date of Monday, then changed to next Sunday.  And I’m still not sure I believe either date, because that would mean my LP has a pretty large variation (either 19 or 13 days).  I’ve got my own suspicion that the actual O date was in between the two dates it gave me, which would mean that my LP is actually 16 days, and didn’t vary any.  But whatever.  I’ll still be using it as a guide and to hang out with my online co-chart stalkers (hey guys!).  Our group is actually at a strange place right now, because no one is in the 2ww.  It’s going to be a mass stalking whenever someone gets around to ovulating this time.

Be warned: I am about to piss and moan about the horror known as TTC.  If you don’t want to know this much about my personal life, it’s probably best for you to mosey on off.  Also, I use adult language here, so kiddies — shoo!

Also, as I was drafting this entry in my head, I realized that you (the internet) don’t know my husband.  So let me preface this rant by saying that I adore my husband.  He is a wonderful, loving, funny man, and part of the reason I married him is because he is the only person I’ve ever met that I could see myself having children with.  

Let’s count:
Cost of one pack of ovulation predictor kits: $15.99 
Number of positive OPK’s this week: 1.5
Times I told my husband that “this is the week/window/time”: 5
Completed GOF sessions: 3
GOF sessions the day of ovulation: 0

…so, add that up, carry the 3, divide by 2, yep… Number of pissed-off, fed-up, through with TTC wives in this house: me

We decided that we were going to try to get pregnant in June of last year.  So I tossed the pills and secretly hoped that it would take a month or two to actually happen.  In August, I started checking out basal body temperature charting, and realized that I wasn’t actually ovulating.  Now, this was not really unexpected.  I had been on Depo for years, and the pill for a year or so after that, and my OBGYN had warned me that it might take a year for my body to get back on its normal schedule.  In November, I got my first “real” period.  My cycles have ranged from 30-40 days since then, which for me is normal.  Before I went on hormonal BC, I was regular at 30-35 days, so I’m not worried that anything has changed.

What has changed has been my attitude through this whole process.  I’ve talked with other women online, I’ve read their blogs, I’ve cried at the ordeals that they’ve been through, and I’ve cheered when their babies arrived (author’s sidenote, Congratulations to [G] on her new baby girl!).  I’ve learned that the terror my parents and my church leaders instilled in me in high school was really a deterrent mechanism based on fear and superstition and not based on real information or the idea that I could make choices for myself.  I’ve learned that it is completely inappropriate to comment on ANY woman’s status, whether she is TTC, child free by choice, a new mom, or has been a mom for a while.  I’ve learned that our reproductive status is no one’s business but our own, and that it is completely within my right to tell anyone who asks to go fuck themselves, and I don’t have to be polite about it if I don’t want to.  I’ve also learned that most people I deal with in day-to-day life don’t understand any of that.

With regards to [Manly], I’ve learned that he is a wonderful, caring man who is going to be a great father one day.  I’ve also learned that he has no interest in actually finding out the technical details of how babies are made, says he wants kids but then won’t do what’s necessary to create them, and tells me he wants to be informed about “our” status but doesn’t actually want to know.  His attitude confuses me and pisses me off at the same time.  Last cycle, we missed having sex one day during the fertile window.  He complained when I told him, and told me that I should just tell him when it’s time and he would do what was necessary.  So this month, I told him we need to have sex every day between x and y.  And what did I get in return?  “We had sex yesterday.” “I’m too tired.” “I just want to go to bed.” “Well, why didn’t you come home earlier?” (My jaw dropped on that last one — I had come home at 7:15, he played Playstation for an hour, and then we –both of us– watched the finales of CSI and ER.  And you want to twist this around on me?)  With all of that, we had sex on O-3 and O-2 days.  Not ovulation day or the day prior.  Which does not give us a good chance this month.

Needless to say, I’m pissed at the moment.  I count, I worry, I study my cervical fluid, I obsess over twinges and “strange” feelings for two weeks out of every month, and I deal with the inconvenience of my period at the end of it all.  All he has to do is show up and perform for 3 nights of the month, and he won’t even do THAT?  Apparently I have to do everything I’m already doing and FUCKING SEDUCE him every month to make him feel like a manly man?  Fuck that.  I am done with this shit.  

I am temping until I get my coverline for this cycle (see the FF chart link to understand that sentence, if you’re not a TTC-er).  And then the thermometer is going to be put away for good.  No more OPK’s, no more pregnancy tests, no more temping or CM checks.  [Manly] can count as well as I can, and he can figure out what days I’m fertile just the same.  Sex is going to happen when we feel like it, and if it doesn’t happen around ovulation, that’s his problem.  He’s the one who wants kids and wants to be a stay-at-home dad, so he can figure it out.

[snip] But for today, it looks like I’m going to be discussing my feelings on my continuing TTC journey.  For those of you keeping track, I started my period last Thursday.  Three days early, away on a business trip, completely unprepared and requiring an emergency trip to Sprawl-Mart.  Which, fortunately, shared a parking lot with our hotel.  So not pregnant.  While I was thinking about this, I realized that it has now been officially one year since I came off the pill.  Not really an anniversary I wanted to experience.  I know other people have written more eloquently about the definition of infertility, but it’s starting to become a little more than an abstract discussion for me now.  I have internet friends who started trying around the same time I did who are already classified as infertile; they have PCOS, they have unresponsive ovaries, they’re trying IUI’s, or starting IVF soon.  But me, I’m still waiting; I don’t want to have that label applied to me yet.  I’m refusing to consider the possibility until November, which would be one year of unprotected, timed intercourse. 

At the same time though, I’m starting to get worried.  Why aren’t we pregnant?  Is there something wrong?  Do we need to start some rudimentary testing?  If I start testing, but then get pregnant, we will have wasted a lot of money (my/his insurance companies don’t cover any treatment).  If I wait it out, and we don’t get pregnant, we will have wasted a lot of time (and [Manly] is already impatient).  However, we both want this to happen naturally — I don’t know how much treatment either of us would be interested in.  I’m not sure I would be interested in any kind of injectible or invasive procedures (based on my readings of other people’s internet experiences) and we are pretty sure we would adopt if we can’t conceive.  The ironic thing is that we would actually be able to afford treatment without killing our budget if we absolutely had to have it.   

Perhaps here is the time where I confess that I never have actually wanted kids.  [Manly] wants them, wants us to be a family.  He told me once that if he had been in charge of our birth control, we would have had an “accident” a long time ago.  If it was my choice, I’d probably wait a few more years before we even started trying.  Now don’t get all preachy on me — [Manly] is not forcing me into something that I don’t want.  He’s just accelerating my admittedly conservative timetable a little.  I really do like children, and I want to have some (see above, re: adoption possibility).  I’ve watched [Manly] with our friends’ children, and our quasi-nephew (don’t ask — he’s family, no matter who his biological mother really is), and my heart just stops every time I see him pick up and cuddle a little one.  At that moment, I’d agree to a dozen kids if that’s what he asked for. 

But deep down, I’m terrified I’m going to be a horrible mother.  There’s about 10 years between me and my siblings, and I hated, hated with purple passion, having to babysit them.  I had to clean up cat poo this afternoon, and it made me want to throw up.  How am I going to be a good mother when I hate being responsible for someone else and get nausesous at anyone else’s biological detritus?  That’s going to be a significant fraction of the first few years of any child’s life.  Ick.

And if any of you think that the previous two paragraphs just don’t belong together, I mean who worries about being infertile while simultaneously doesn’t seem to want kids, just think about the loops my brain has been doing.  It’s a strange mental space to be in, a limbo of possibilities. 

For as long as I can remember, I’ve gotten these moments of really strong deja vu. I will be in a situation, talking to someone usually, when the world around me seems to just “click” into place. The feeling reminds me of a key turning inside a lock, when the tumblers fall into position and the bolt slides closed. The world is locked into place, and there’s no going back a different way. I’ve always felt that these moments of deja vu meant that I was following the correct path, that I had chosen the right way to go through life. I got that feeling yesterday. I went to have lunch with my mom, and I decided to tell her that we’ve been trying to get pregnant for over a year now. All of a sudden, the room was familiar: the colors, the decorations, the placement of the bowls on the table, my mom sitting across from me. I had seen that place before. At that moment, I felt this tension just lift off of me. This is the path I was meant to follow. Whether we have children or not, this is where I am meant to be. And come what may, there’s no going back.

[snip] And in other news, saw the obgyn for my annual this week and got a lab slip for a thyroid test. So I’ll be getting that done next week, or whenever I can get to the lab to get blood drawn. I also got a slip for a SA and clomid, but we’re just going to hold onto those for a while. I’m not ready for clomid, and the SA won’t really tell us anything other than to go see the local RE (who also handles male infertility) now or later. And we’re not ready to go now, so we’ll just wait until later gets here. What, you say we’re both hiding our heads under the new sheets? Yep, probably are. But it’s a lot less scary under there.
You want to know how TTC is going in our house? Observe the conversation I had with myself this morning:

Me (in bathroom at work): Hey, what’s that?
Myself: Holy crap, that looks like EWCM*!
Me: Where did that come from?
Myself: Where do you think it came from, dumbass.
Me: No, I know where it came from. I meant, it can’t be that time of the month already — is it?
Myself (rapidly counting dates in my head): Wednesday, no Wednesday two weeks ago … Actually, we’re on Day 14. Ovulation’s probably right around the corner!
Me: Shit.
Myself: What is it? You should be happy about ovulating this early, given that freakin long cycle last month.
Me: This means I have to work late tonight and then go seduce [Manly].
Myself: Don’t worry about it — he’s easy.

So now I’m rapidly trying to decide whether I should just jump [Manly] when I get home (given that I’m going to have to teach until 6:00 tonight, meaning that we won’t get packed up until at least 6:30) or if I should warn him ahead of time (given that this will have to be a coded message since I share an office). Either way, I should have started temping this morning, but didn’t realize it was this late in my cycle already. Hmmm. Maybe an OPK tomorrow morning to see where I stand. Crap, crap, crap. I feel like a kid who shows up for class but hasn’t done her homework.

And just as a note for posterity, I had my very first quasi-fertility test yesterday. I got a lab slip from my obgyn for a thyroid function test when I went for my annual last week. It took until yesterday for me to get to the lab to get my blood drawn, and it will probably be next week sometime when I get the results back. Ugh. I just want to get pregnant and have all of this go away! I simply do not have the brain capacity to handle work, school, hausfrau responsibilities, social obligations, getting the Nissan rebuilt, and TTC. Something is going to have to give soon, and I’m dearly hoping it’s not my sanity.

*EWCM stands for “egg white cervical mucus” for all you non-TTC folks. It’s a sign of impending fertility, and I’ll let you figure out on your own where it comes from. Hint: it’s called cervical for a reason.

That gets us up through July of last year and encompasses most of my happy-go-lucky, we’ll-get-pregnant-any-day-now phase.  More to come, and things are about to get deep.


One thought on “Previously …

  1. Hey Sharah,
    Just found your blog through Stirrup Queens… I know you don’t want to be in this place, but I hope you find the support and comfort you need in this blogging community. I’ll be back to follow your story. Best of luck with your RE appointment.

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