They come out of nowhere, I tell you. One minute I am optimistic and even looking forward to the "two week wait." Those happy moments where I allow myself to imagine that this will be the month those pregnancy tests turn positive. And then the day that I am supposed to ovulate arrives, and I wake up all excited to pee on my little stick. I sit there in my pajamas, happily awaiting my smiley face to appear because I usually ovulate on Day 15 like clockwork. But as soon as I am convinced that I usually do something at a certain time, I get a curve ball thrown in my face. No smiley face today, maam. Barely even a line.
And so starts the spiral. What's wrong now? Is this the other shoe dropping? Do I have a blockage in my tubes? Cysts on my ovaries? Did I just ovulate too early and miss the window? Did we not try at the right times this month? Has my entire uterus just up and left? Do I even HAVE ovaries anymore?
I try to practice all the techniques I've learned from the countless books I've read - question my thoughts (is it really true my ovaries have left? probably not), take a deep breath, be present, generally just not freak the f*ck out. I can do those things when I am having a normal day but of course that's not when you need to manage your emotions the most. I "manage" so well that by the time I get out of the shower and my unknowing husband greets me with a simple "good morning" I burst into tears.
It still shocks me what a roller coaster this is. I often think about when we started trying to have a baby, how innocently excited I was about the whole process. I was down right giddy with excitement the very first time we tried because - what if? Days like this I feel like patting that former version of me on the head and saying, "Go get yourself a glass of wine, Pollyanna. It's going to be a long ride."
Here Goes Nothing
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
So, I guess the only place to start is from the beginning.
I was one of those little girls who played "house" and "school" for fun. I had a serious penchant for Cabbage Patch Kids and consistently had one of them in tow for the better part of five years. Aside from a briefly independent feminist streak in college, I've always known that I want to have kids.
My husband and I met in college and dated for a month shy of ten years before we got married. Our second wedding anniversary is this coming September, and we were married for a year before we started trying to have a baby. You can see where this is going...
On our second month of trying, we got pregnant. Seeing as how I have always had a deep seated fear that I would struggle to have children (a fear with no basis in reality at all, besides maybe the fact that my Mom struggled to have me) I was completely thrilled that we got pregnant so fast. I let out an epic sigh of relief - a breath I had been holding for years without realizing it. We told my parents at four weeks because its impossible for me to keep anything from them. I told my best friend because she was nearing the end of her own first pregnancy, and wouldn't it be fun if we were pregnant at the same time?
I am considered "high risk" because of a previous blood clot, likely caused by being on the pill (which I was on since I was about 16, due to incredibly painful periods). So, I had an ultrasound at just under six weeks and we saw a heartbeat. It was one of the most surreal and beautiful moments of my entire life. It was happening - we were having a baby. At 11 weeks, we found out that we lost the baby. If finding out I was pregnant was one of the highest highs I've ever experienced, this was by far the lowest low. All of that happened in November 2009, and we've been trying unsuccessfully to get pregnant again ever since.
I have been hoovering around infertility blogs for about two months now, devouring all the information I can get my hands on. I've been watching from a distance but decided its time to dip my toe into the water and join in. There is a whole community full of support waiting at the ready, but I have been hesitant to take part because (as my best friend wisely pointed out to me today) I think I've been in denial that this is happening at all. It's all still very fresh...that word "infertility." Not a lot of people in my life know my struggle because I don't want to be reminded of it everywhere I go (which I realize is a joke, because the thought is never more than a heartbeat away). But for that reason and a few others, I have decided to write this blog anonymously. I need the support, but I also need the buffer of privacy. And this way, I can be more honest than I would be if I were afraid I could bump into you at Walgreens, right in the middle of a ovulation predictor and pregnancy test fix.
So in a nutshell, that is my story. I've always used writing as an outlet so between that and the community that I know awaits, here's hoping for a little healing...
I was one of those little girls who played "house" and "school" for fun. I had a serious penchant for Cabbage Patch Kids and consistently had one of them in tow for the better part of five years. Aside from a briefly independent feminist streak in college, I've always known that I want to have kids.
My husband and I met in college and dated for a month shy of ten years before we got married. Our second wedding anniversary is this coming September, and we were married for a year before we started trying to have a baby. You can see where this is going...
On our second month of trying, we got pregnant. Seeing as how I have always had a deep seated fear that I would struggle to have children (a fear with no basis in reality at all, besides maybe the fact that my Mom struggled to have me) I was completely thrilled that we got pregnant so fast. I let out an epic sigh of relief - a breath I had been holding for years without realizing it. We told my parents at four weeks because its impossible for me to keep anything from them. I told my best friend because she was nearing the end of her own first pregnancy, and wouldn't it be fun if we were pregnant at the same time?
I am considered "high risk" because of a previous blood clot, likely caused by being on the pill (which I was on since I was about 16, due to incredibly painful periods). So, I had an ultrasound at just under six weeks and we saw a heartbeat. It was one of the most surreal and beautiful moments of my entire life. It was happening - we were having a baby. At 11 weeks, we found out that we lost the baby. If finding out I was pregnant was one of the highest highs I've ever experienced, this was by far the lowest low. All of that happened in November 2009, and we've been trying unsuccessfully to get pregnant again ever since.
I have been hoovering around infertility blogs for about two months now, devouring all the information I can get my hands on. I've been watching from a distance but decided its time to dip my toe into the water and join in. There is a whole community full of support waiting at the ready, but I have been hesitant to take part because (as my best friend wisely pointed out to me today) I think I've been in denial that this is happening at all. It's all still very fresh...that word "infertility." Not a lot of people in my life know my struggle because I don't want to be reminded of it everywhere I go (which I realize is a joke, because the thought is never more than a heartbeat away). But for that reason and a few others, I have decided to write this blog anonymously. I need the support, but I also need the buffer of privacy. And this way, I can be more honest than I would be if I were afraid I could bump into you at Walgreens, right in the middle of a ovulation predictor and pregnancy test fix.
So in a nutshell, that is my story. I've always used writing as an outlet so between that and the community that I know awaits, here's hoping for a little healing...
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