Happy Terraversary to me

On May 29, 2005, I took my last birth control pill.  The action was so momentous to me that I marked it down in my calendar.  How could I have known at the time that that little note would be the one date that I go back and check each summer to verify?  This year it slid by with little fanfare, but I still knew it was that time of year.  Three years.  Gone.  And not a tangible thing in my life, other than a leftover box of ovulation predictor sticks and some fertility clinic copay receipts, to mark that anything changed on that day.

Do you remember the very first time you had sex with the intention of getting pregnant?  I do.  I remember getting into bed, unprotected by any kind of latex or hormone, and thinking, “Oh my god, I can’t believe we’re really doing this.”  For the previous, ahem, eight, years of my life, I had spent who knows how much money and time trying to keep sperm away from my vulnerable ovaries.  And here I was now, trying to do the exact opposite, still unsure if this was really what I wanted to do.  I was nervous.  I was excited.  Manly was sure.  He had been trying to get me to toss the pills for a while, subtle hints and finally a straight out request.  We had been married for 2 1/2 years and together for 5, and he was ready for a family. 

Ironic, isn’t it, that he was the one who wanted to stop treatments.

Dr. Googlicious informs me that 80% of couples who start trying to conceive are successful within 12 months.  Another 10% are successful in the next 12 months.  I can’t find a number for rates during year 3, but after 48 months, only 5-7% are still unsuccessful.  As the magic eight ball would probably say, “outlook not good.” 

The past two months have been hard around here.  Between Manly’s unbloggability, and my new job, and school, I haven’t had much time to write.  And now I’m feeling the effects of that.  I have this well of anger and bitterness sitting inside me, festering, looking for a place to spill over.  And short of one night a month when I can escape to the solace of WAITT, I have no one to talk to about it.  I think it might be time to come back. 


18 thoughts on “Happy Terraversary to me

  1. No one should have to be here, but “welcome” back. Keep an eye out on my blog tomorrow; Calliope, Io, and I have been working on something that might be an outlet for your feelings. If it’s not, I hope that returning to blogging will continue to be the “free therapy” for you that it is for so many of us.

  2. Are you ok? Do you want to talk? I can give you a buzz. Hmm…that could be taken two ways. I could call or get you drunk you choose. 😉 Can’t wait to see you too. I’m lucky to have you and the girls too. Any word on the group therapist who specializes in group angst?

  3. Ah Sharah – We may indeed be life twins. Feel free to email anytime. Flutterofhope at yahoo dot com.

    Hoping that this frustration will pass soon.

    And yes I remember my date too. I hate that date – which is also my father’s b-day.

  4. I’m so sorry your terraversary reared it’s ugly head. Trying to work through IF is definitely a two steps forward, one step back process. I took a break from blogging too, but found that I really needed the outlet.

  5. I think that as women, we are meant to create. When that urge to create doesn’t manifest as children, we have to find other outlets. Do you have creative outlets that you love but haven’t been doing? Maybe blogging is one of those?

  6. sending buckets of love to you. You have been SO SO missed. I really do wish you were blogging more. Also…just a reminder that even unbloggable things can be blogged about and password protected. And you don’t have to give the password to anyone. But you should get them out. raging is good. But you know that.
    I had my terraversary in April and it sucked ass. There should be a gift or something. Like 1 year not knocked up you get white wine, 2nd year vodka. Year three- is it tequila??


  7. Good to hear from you!

    Yep, I remember the day well, having spent the previous 13 years on the pill & living in terror of the consequences of first an out of wedlock & then an unplanned pregnancy. Silly, silly me.

  8. I remember crying tears of joy when we first started trying… little did I know what was to follow and how those tears would change. nice to hear your voice.

  9. I had a hunch it would take a while but I didn’t anticipate this ending. Sigh.

    We’ll be here ready and waiting for you when you have time and the energy to let it all out.

  10. Hah, I was “uncertain” to. I think the very first time we “tried”, I was so freaked out, I ran to the pharmacy to get the morning after pill. Ha. ha. ha. the joke was on me.

  11. I remember when sex was wildly fun (using contraception), then anticipatory (TTC), then obligatory (TTC), then boring (TTC), then annoying (TTC), then sad (TTC). 3 years later, it’s occasionally fun again. If only I could get back all the $$ I spent in my 20s and 30s on contraception!!!!!!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s