Trying

Note: I wrote most of this piece over 3 months before it posted.

When we started trying to conceive, I thought it would be totally casual. We had originally talked about waiting six months, and then decided (or rather, I decided) that we were not going to worry about waiting and sort of see how things went. I have been a cycle tracker for two years already, so that was part of my regular routine. It meant I did happen to know the week I was supposed to be ovulating. The first month, I was quite sick that week. I had a weird cold that kept mutating into all kinds of different symptoms. I was out for the count for several days and really not so much “in the mood,” although I insisted on trying anyways. Probably not the best circumstances, but does that really matter? I don’t know. I do know, that when two weeks had passed, and the inevitable signs arrived that I was indeed, not pregnant, I was much more disappointed than I had expected. It caught me off guard. We hadn’t really begun “trying” yet, how were my expectations already this high? I think I had built it up in my head that it was going to be easy. I forgot all the stories people had told me about trying for years without success. I only thought about the ones I had heard about people who made it on their first try. I remembered that my parents conceived that way, easily, with both children. I remembered reading an article about fertility (with no research into its credibility) and being buoyed about hitting 80% of the markers they say indicate that you are fertile. Expectations can be a killer. They can change the way you feel about everything.

The thing I did appreciate about my disappointment was that it told me I was ready, or at least more so than I ever had been. Having those “this is it” moments don’t happen very often. I had actively been trying not to conceive for over a decade. Right up until our wedding last year, and even the few months after that, I always had a reason like ‘I want to be able to have a drink over the holidays’ to put off trying, and I was happy not to be pregnant. But something shifted for me on New Years day 2019. I just woke up feeling like it was time.

I am normally an “everything happens for a reason” kind of person. Or at least I try to be. And I know, I know that stressing about conception lowers your chances. That it is something better entered into with a clear, relaxed mindset. I thought I would be able to, right away. We were being casual about it, not taking it too seriously. Turns out my subconscious really wanted us to be one of those couples who made it happen on the first try (it even makes my heartbeat with nerves now just thinking back on it). Knowing this is how I felt, when month two came around, and I was feeling much healthier, the “window week” was a good week. I did feel relaxed and sort of laissez faire. I was able to talk myself down and be calmer. It’s the two week waiting period after that that I found most challenging. The wondering, the questioning. Now, writing about it, experiencing those thoughts again, is a way I am helping myself to remember that aside from keeping my body strong and healthy, there is very little I can do to change this process. I need to remind myself that staying calm, happy, & positive, is the best thing I can do. Worrying will be of no help, and could be detrimental in the end.

I have always thought if I couldn’t have a baby, I would adopt. I would give a home to a child who needed one. And if that was the case, that is what we would try to do. I want to have a child and raise them to be kind, to be brave, to have a voice, and to use it to stand for the things that are important to them. I want to do a lot of things as a parent, some I will succeed in, some I will not, but I really just want to love a small human and give them a good home.

A friend asked me a few months back if my new husband and I had started trying yet, and if so, how was I feeling and was I going to write about it? I loved that she asked me that. We had not at that time started the process, but when we did, I was sure I would feel the need to document it. I had started reading books about conception and pregnancy, and there is a lot of interesting information. One thing I find really interesting is the 3-Month Rule. This idea that we are not meant to share our pregnancy news before the first trimester is over, until the window where you are most at risk for a miscarriage passes. The more I think about it, the more this seems…strange? wrong? Sad, I think is the word I have landed on. We hide away this perfectly natural thing, which the more I read, the more I realize is more common than we think. I think the fallacy that it’s not that common is in part to blame because we don’t talk about it. It has somehow become something shameful. Like we need to hide that our bodies aren’t working properly or something, which is totally backwards. However, the other side of it is that it can be a very emotional process to go through, and there are definitely people that would prefer to grieve privately. I respect the heck out of that. What I realized is that if I had to go through having a miscarriage, I wouldn’t keep it a total secret, but I probably wouldn’t make it a big public announcement (although who knows, maybe I would write about it). I would want to talk about it, to get support for the emotions I was going through from my close friends and family. Especially having awareness around my tendency for depression, I would want to do whatever I could to ensure that I didn’t spiral after, and letting my people know what is going on is how I can help to mitigate that from happening. I like to share the exciting things in my life. When it is my own stuff, sometimes I am really terrible at keeping a secret. However, the idea of having the heartbreaking conversation about losing a child over and over seems much harder to me than keeping the secret for a few months. But, I don’t really know. So, I guess what I am saying is we all get to make our own decision, and should have empathy for everyone’s individual experiences in this process.

Spending time with our friends who have children over the last few years has been amazing. Being able to share in small moments of their joy, being able to celebrate milestones with them. The first time you have a child recognize you, hand you a book and sit in your lap expectantly, it just makes your heart well. One couple of friends even let us try our hands at putting their daughter down to sleep. It was already an amazing feeling, and it wasn’t our child. I am so grateful for our friends who let us be part of these moments, and I am so happy for them. It also makes me realize I know profoundly little about caring for infants. I will learn though! They did, all parents do (or most anyways). Those moments, holding little children, playing with them, it makes me ache now. I yearn for the time when it is our turn. I know it will be hard. I know it will change everything. Can I prepare? Maybe, a little. I can read, I can study, I can learn the practical things. The other side of it, the emotional side, I doubt there is any preparing for. I just need to find the calm.

So in our second month, I was 31 days into my cycle. I average 28-29 days usually, but going a few days over wasn’t totally unheard of. Now, most modern pregnancy tests can be taken a few days ahead of your period, but they are most accurate the days after you are actually late, and best administered in the morning. It was a Saturday, I was at work. I had been waiting for a few days, and made myself promise not to take the test early. They average about $20/pop so if you take it too early, when you could have just been patient for a few days, it’ll cost you. I remember thinking “I’ll take it tomorrow, in the morning.” That would be 32 days in, so I figured it was a decent time. Plus, it would be a Sunday and a day off. I remember thinking “My whole life could change tomorrow.” Or not. I couldn’t actually decide what was winning - nerves or excitement. I was trying to focus on neither, and just pour myself into work.

Turns out, I didn’t have to wait until the next day. When I came home, my husband asked if I wanted a glass of wine with dinner. I said no, “just in case.” He asked if I knew I wasn’t pregnant, would I just have a glass? I probably would. So, he convinced me to take the test that night. We left it on the windowsill in the bathroom and waited 5 minutes, not 3, like it would be more accurate if it had a bit longer. We walked in together and saw the “YES +” in digital letters on the little window. That was it. Our lives were never going to be the same.

And then like calm, rational first time parents-to-be, we cried and celebrated and stared into each other’s hopeful and elated eyes for an hour. Ha, nope. We were both definitely excited, but after about 10 minutes of hugging and smiling we sat on our couch and talked for about an hour over pregnancy books, and tried to work out all the major decisions we would have to make over the next few months. At some point we came back to our rational selves that knew we didn’t need to make all these decisions right that minute, and we could do some research and take our time. So we went back to our movie and had an evening like any other Saturday night at home together. Although the next 24 hours were punctuated by each of us exclaiming “Whoa” or “Oh my God” every time we walked into the bathroom and confronted the test.

When Monday rolled around, Nick went to work like any other day, and I had a day of writing at home on the schedule. It was still a productive day, but really all I wanted to do was read my pregnancy books. I am someone who doesn’t care for being unprepared, nor do I care for not being good at things. I knew, and know, that you can’t be totally prepared to be a parent. It will be unlike anything you ever do. But, I could study! I did work, but staying totally focused was hard!

The other thing that preoccupied my mind were the other Mothers in my life. Ones I knew who had gotten pregnant by accident, the ones who planned and got it on the first or second try (like me), and the ones who struggled, fought for their positive results, and especially the ones who tried, and were never successful. I even thought about the young women in my life who have said they don’t want children, or are unsure. There is so much pressure on us, no matter what you decide. And there are so few boundaries around it. One of the first things we talked about was “When do we tell people?” It was so different from when we got engaged. We called so many people in the first 48 hours. This time, we had to consider other factors. What if something went wrong? Would we want to keep that conversation to ourselves? My husband was very considerate - he said it was really up to me. I would be the one who would deal with more questions if something were to happen. Not telling the people close to me right away was really hard. I considered telling a few friends and family members, and asking them to keep it quiet. My husband pointed out that wasn’t really fair to them. So, we waited.

Wait is over now! Hence my hiatus on posts. I will confess there are a few more early pregnancy posts on the way that I have had to save, but I will try not to make it all about the bump over the next few months. Needless to say though, I’m excited, a lot calmer than I was expecting, and just enjoying this new experience.