Yes, I want to have a baby. I want to be pregnant. I want to be physically uncomfortable and have everyone tell me that I'm glowing and all of the other crap that goes with it. It's an evolutionary time bomb that went off in me one day. I surrender.
So, what's the hold up? I have no idea.
Last June I went to my OB/GYN and told her that M and I were going to try to get pregnant. She told me she would see me in a few months (wink, wink). I threw out my birth control and away we went. Or not. Sound familiar? Six long months later I had my first "normal cycle" after birth control pills. Why does everyone say that you will return to normal cycles "right away" when that is not the case? I have spoken to others that had similar experiences. It doesn't exactly fill you with confidence when you start having 42 day cycles, does it?!?!?!?!?
Almost four months ago M and I were able to start officially trying. This means I could actually predict what my body was going to do and we could time things accordingly. While I was waiting for my body to stop freaking out, no less than three friends became pregnant. If you have been through this you know that all of a sudden you feel like God is sending pregnant people after you, like Night of the Living Dead. Instead of "Brains......Brains!!" they stagger towards you with their ultrasound pictures and baby shower invitations. There is no escaping them. They are everywhere. You also notice that people who have no idea what you are going through love to give advice. My favorite is the dreaded....."just relax".
I bought books. I read those books. I prayed...well, I still do that. I took herbs. I stopped taking herbs. I kept trying to feed my husband turkey (for the zinc). My husband asked what the hell was going on with all of the turkey.
Friends? I have a lot of friends. I have friends who get pregnant without trying and I have friends who have gone through multiple miscarriages, IVF, hormone shots and some really unimaginable things. All of those friends have babies, too. I also have friends that do not want children right now and think that my pursuit of motherhood is causing me to go "downhill".
I don’t know if there is a problem. Maybe I will get pregnant this month. Maybe next month. Maybe I will never see the inside of an RE's office. I am not trying to compare what I am going through to someone who has experienced the loss of a child, of a pregnancy, or the idea of being a parent. All I know is that I have a good life, a wonderful husband, and I still feel alone. I feel like no one understands the fear that my body might not be able to do what comes so easily to others. I stopped talking to my friends about this because I couldn't bear to hear another round of "It'll happen for you!" or "Why are you trying to get pregnant right now, anyway?"
I know that this will all come to a resolution somehow. What was it that Tom Petty said? The waiting is the hardest part.
Did I mention that I am throwing a baby shower on Saturday?
So, what's the hold up? I have no idea.
Last June I went to my OB/GYN and told her that M and I were going to try to get pregnant. She told me she would see me in a few months (wink, wink). I threw out my birth control and away we went. Or not. Sound familiar? Six long months later I had my first "normal cycle" after birth control pills. Why does everyone say that you will return to normal cycles "right away" when that is not the case? I have spoken to others that had similar experiences. It doesn't exactly fill you with confidence when you start having 42 day cycles, does it?!?!?!?!?
Almost four months ago M and I were able to start officially trying. This means I could actually predict what my body was going to do and we could time things accordingly. While I was waiting for my body to stop freaking out, no less than three friends became pregnant. If you have been through this you know that all of a sudden you feel like God is sending pregnant people after you, like Night of the Living Dead. Instead of "Brains......Brains!!" they stagger towards you with their ultrasound pictures and baby shower invitations. There is no escaping them. They are everywhere. You also notice that people who have no idea what you are going through love to give advice. My favorite is the dreaded....."just relax".
I bought books. I read those books. I prayed...well, I still do that. I took herbs. I stopped taking herbs. I kept trying to feed my husband turkey (for the zinc). My husband asked what the hell was going on with all of the turkey.
Friends? I have a lot of friends. I have friends who get pregnant without trying and I have friends who have gone through multiple miscarriages, IVF, hormone shots and some really unimaginable things. All of those friends have babies, too. I also have friends that do not want children right now and think that my pursuit of motherhood is causing me to go "downhill".
I don’t know if there is a problem. Maybe I will get pregnant this month. Maybe next month. Maybe I will never see the inside of an RE's office. I am not trying to compare what I am going through to someone who has experienced the loss of a child, of a pregnancy, or the idea of being a parent. All I know is that I have a good life, a wonderful husband, and I still feel alone. I feel like no one understands the fear that my body might not be able to do what comes so easily to others. I stopped talking to my friends about this because I couldn't bear to hear another round of "It'll happen for you!" or "Why are you trying to get pregnant right now, anyway?"
I know that this will all come to a resolution somehow. What was it that Tom Petty said? The waiting is the hardest part.
Did I mention that I am throwing a baby shower on Saturday?
2 comments:
I loooooove your comparison of wobbling, gleeful pregnant ladies to zombies. That is definitely how it feels sometimes when my very well-meaning pregnant friends burst through the door to smother me in ultrasound photos.
Welcome to blogworld and, as always, I truly hope your TTC story is a short one. :)
I wish you happiness. I'm just not sure that pregnancy is the place to look for it. You say you feel empty - having a child does not fill that emptiness. You need to look to yourself to be whole.
Post a Comment