I try not to dwell on the thought that this would be the last month that we could naturally (try to) get pregnant. The main thing that I’ve learned in the past 18 months is that it’s NOT going to happen. Please, give me no, “Oh, you don’t know.” We do. It’s scientifically impossible.
Coming to that realization took a lot of time and a lot of tears. I don’t know if I could even fully ever grasp that. I “know” it, but I don’t know if I’m at the point of fully “embracing” it. Not that I expect a “miracle”, I’m past believing in that.
I should have known it wasn’t going to be this month though, when someone had to call and destroy my world the very day I was ovulating. No one is in the mood for baby making when you’re both sobbing and too depressed to even move.
Anyway, it gets to a point that TTC almost starts to become a ritual. Every morning before I even truly wake up I reach for my basal thermometer to fill out my bbt chart. I know that I need to start using OPKs around CD 16 to make sure exactly when I’m ovulating. Then around this time of the month (I’m at CD 30 today), I pee on a pregnancy test.
(This all sounds really fun and sexy right?!?)
At this point I know what to expect. I don’t buy tests at the grocery store. I’ve peed on so many, it just got too expensive. I’ve figured out where to get the cheapest online.
I remember when I would be so excited to take a test. “It’s this month, I just know it,” I would think to myself. I’d convince myself I had all kinds of symptoms. “My boobs are totally bigger! I felt a twinge!” I’d start fantasizing about how I would tell the family. How they would have my husband’s eyelashes and my hair. How happy we would all be. Finally completing our family. I could barely sleep, and I would run to the bathroom as soon as I thought it was an appropriate time.
Then it would all come crashing down. Every hope and dream I had dashed by that one stupid line. The child I hoped would be growing in me was dead. I would always sob. Rinse and repeat a month later for over a year. Those memories still bring a tear to my eye.
I don’t know why I still take pregnancy tests. I know it’s not going to be a positive. I know it’s going to have to be IVF or it is just not going to happen for us. It hurts less because I don’t get my hopes up as much, but I guess I just have to have that confirmation. No big surprise it didn’t happen, again. Move on, sister.
I guess you just have to get to the point where you don’t hope, but keep going and learn to accept your life for what it is. It’s not nice or fair, but life isn’t promised to be. You just have to try to make the best of it…..hmm…
I take it back. The hope you should have is that if you do try and fail, that you fail in the most spectacular way.