The things I say:
friend: oh, the registration for the MS150 is about to be open! Are we doing it again this year?
me: I don't know. I'm undecided. Last year was so great because I was already training for a half-ironman and I was in such kick-ass shape, I'm kind of tempted to just leave it at that single fantastic experience.
The things I don't say:
me: I don't know if I should register or not. You see, we're trying to get pregnant. So if we do get pregnant, obviously I couldn't/wouldn't do the ride. On the other hand, I feel so stupid for living my life based on the great "what if"--it sucks to put everything I used to do on hold, but I also have to believe that we will be successful soon. I would just sign up and then not ride, but $200 is a lot of money to lose for no reason.
The things I say:
mom: want to share this bottle of wine with me?
me: sure.
The things I don't say:
me: well, I'm may or may not be pregnant RIGHT NOW. I can't really test until next weekend, and I know that you don't share a blood supply with a baby until 6 weeks, and I know millions upon millions upon millions of women have had alcohol before they found out they were pregnant, but I don't want to do anything to screw this up.
The things I say:
Dad: man, there sure are a lot of babies around!
me: I know, right? They're everywhere!
The things I don't say:
me: I know, right? Since we started trying, everywhere we go there are babies. Cute, fat, happy babies with blissfully sleep deprived parents loving on them. It makes it really hard to stay calm and optimistic when it seems like the universe is taunting you with the thing you are trying so hard to achieve yourself. And did you know in the last three months since we've been trying we know FOURTEEN girls who have gotten pregnant?? FOURTEEN. And yes, I know it will be our turn soon, and we will have everything we've always wanted, but damn, sometimes I just want to stay home and hide so that I won't have to go out and see all those families who have been successful where so far we have not. Isn't that crazy? Can you believe how crazy TTC has made me, your calm, level-headed, patient, happy daughter?
The things I say:
TH: What was your temperature this morning?
me: It went down a little. But it's ok.
The things I don't say:
me: It went down a little, and I've heard that there can be a dip around implantation, but that then it should come back up after that, and mine's not really coming back up, and do you think that means we missed another month, another month of wanting and wishing and obsessing and feigning patience and optimism and calmness, and what's wrong with us, why do we know so many people who were successful on their first shot, so many people who think nothing of getting pregnant, people who say oh, just get drunk and screw like bunnies for a couple of weeks, that should do it, why does this make me feel like a failure, like we were not selected by Darwin's law to continue our gene lines, like we could have the world's greatest marriage, greatest relationship, the kind of marriage our friends are all envious of, but that they get the kids, I mean what is that, is that like the universe evening out the playing field, oh, you guys get the marriage, they get the kids, that's fair, and iknowiknowiknow I should relax and stay strong and optimistic and calm and remember to trust the process and that there is more to life than babies, and that our time will come and to forfrick'ssake just be patient, but every single twinge I feel and every single temperature I take make me so hopeful and so worried all at once, and how is that even possible???
The thing TH doesn't say:
TH: I know. Me too.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Dammit
Based on my temp rise this morning, FF moved my O date up two days.
So instead of being 5 DPO, I'm now only 3 DPO.
Big deal in the grand scheme of things? Not really. But I was going to take a test at the end of next week before our Oktoberfest party to find out how much I could partake in the festivities. With the new O date, I theoretically shouldn't test until the Monday after our party.
Boo.
Welcome to the two-week torture.
So instead of being 5 DPO, I'm now only 3 DPO.
Big deal in the grand scheme of things? Not really. But I was going to take a test at the end of next week before our Oktoberfest party to find out how much I could partake in the festivities. With the new O date, I theoretically shouldn't test until the Monday after our party.
Boo.
Welcome to the two-week torture.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
This One...
There was a point in my relationship with TH where I realized, very clearly, that this man had the potential to either make me profoundly happy or wretchedly miserable. I knew that if things didn't work out, I was going to be very, very hurt. It was that moment when I sensed that our relationship had moved from casual high school dating to serious, I'm-actually-in-love status.
I had that same realization about this cycle yesterday.
This cycle has the potential to make me wildly happy, or very, very hurt. Because of things happening in the world around me, I have placed a great deal of hope on this one. It'll either pay off, or it will completely crush me.
Only time will tell.
CD 22, 4 DPO.
8 days to testing.
I had that same realization about this cycle yesterday.
This cycle has the potential to make me wildly happy, or very, very hurt. Because of things happening in the world around me, I have placed a great deal of hope on this one. It'll either pay off, or it will completely crush me.
Only time will tell.
CD 22, 4 DPO.
8 days to testing.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
The Beauty of Having a Mantra...
...is that there's something concrete to focus on when your world just got turned all upside down.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
Trust the process.
We Work!
TH got his SA results back from the doc and she said everything looks normal! You could almost see the worry lift from TH--the thing he has been most worried about for years has finally been lifted from his shoulders.
AND,
I got my first crosshairs! This month we started charting, so while there's no reason to assume I wasn't ovulating before, this month we have visual proof that my body is working exactly the way it's supposed to.
So, we have two healthy reproductive systems. Now I just have to focus on my mantra this month: "Trust the process."
CD 21, 3 DPO.
AND,
I got my first crosshairs! This month we started charting, so while there's no reason to assume I wasn't ovulating before, this month we have visual proof that my body is working exactly the way it's supposed to.
So, we have two healthy reproductive systems. Now I just have to focus on my mantra this month: "Trust the process."
CD 21, 3 DPO.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
1st Birthday Insanity
Today we had the pleasure of attending the first birthday party of my best friend's little girl. One year ago, I was recovering from surgery to remove cancer, and my best friend was starting to go into labor...I think hers was the harder of those two paths! The results were equally momentous--me being totally cancer free and her having the world's CUTEST little girl to bless the world with for the last year.
We are friends with their extended family as well--they're the kind of family you can get drunk with, talk about sex with, get-into-a-bar-fight-and-you-know-they'll-have-your-back kind of peeps, so we were looking forward to seeing everybody and having a wonderful, relaxing, totally happy time celebrating little miss S's first year.
What we didn't expect was all the other babies.
There were five other babies there all within spit-up range of 1. It was like a big baby party. Which is awesome, unless you happen to be the only couple there who is 1.) not with a kid, 2.) not pregnant with a kid, and 3.) straight. We felt like interlopers, like we suddenly didn't belong to a group we had always belonged to.
To make matters worse, I was directly asked "Are you pregnant?", "When will there be a little TH running around?", and other variations of the same questions no less than five times...all while around a bunch of other people. Normally that question is fair game considering our level of comfort with the family, but I didn't realize that they wouldn't realize that maybe the other twenty people standing around us might make that topic of conversation slightly awkward for me. Instead of being able to give them the candid answer I would have normally, yes, we're trying, it's been a couple of months, can you believe with perfect timing and everything there's only a 20% chance of success, it gets hard at times, especially with the way society talks about it as if it's a simple thing, but we're doing a pretty good job of keeping a good attitude about it, I had to respond with a repertoire of lame, metaphorical spin-offs, We're still preheating the oven, There's no bun cooking yet, but we're mixing the batter, etc.
To top the experience off, I was surrounded by the kind of ignorant statements that lately have started to drive me insane:
man 1: yeah, we didn't expect the house to sell in the first month, and we didn't expect M to get pregnant in the first month, either!
man 2: ehhh, atta boy! Way to get her on the first month!
and
woman 1: oh, it's so good that you're due in March--you get to avoid the misery of being pregnant through the hot summer.
woman 2: yeah, well, that was on purpose. We planned it that way.
The first conversation broke my heart on TH's behalf. He's surrounded by friends who "got their wife pregnant" on the first try, and it makes him feel like there's something wrong with him that he didn't. I want to scream "only a 20% chance even in perfect conditions" when people say things like that. It's about luck and probability, not a guy's virility or ability to do something better than others. Unfortunately, that machismo attitude is so prevalent in our society nobody even thinks it's an insensitive and totally illogical thing to say. I used to say things like that and didn't know any better. Now I do. And now I have to listen to people saying things like that all around me, and I die a little inside each time because I know how it crushes my sweet husband, who is doing everything right, who is healthy, who is just as much a man as any of those other ignorant idiots.
The second conversation made me just want to snap, "Oh please. You can hope for for certain timing, but it's luck when you do get it. Don't take so much credit for making it happen that way. Be thankful, not haughty."
So the birthday party turned out to be an exercise in social control, a battle in self-confidence and humility. I was so completely overjoyed at little S's awesome first year, and so utterly thankful to have such good friends and to have been able to be around to see their family transition from two to three.
At the same time, I could not have gotten out of there fast enough, back to a world where I don't have to smile through anger, embarrassment, and, ultimately, sadness. Sadness that we didn't have a little one to add to the melee.
We are friends with their extended family as well--they're the kind of family you can get drunk with, talk about sex with, get-into-a-bar-fight-and-you-know-they'll-have-your-back kind of peeps, so we were looking forward to seeing everybody and having a wonderful, relaxing, totally happy time celebrating little miss S's first year.
What we didn't expect was all the other babies.
There were five other babies there all within spit-up range of 1. It was like a big baby party. Which is awesome, unless you happen to be the only couple there who is 1.) not with a kid, 2.) not pregnant with a kid, and 3.) straight. We felt like interlopers, like we suddenly didn't belong to a group we had always belonged to.
To make matters worse, I was directly asked "Are you pregnant?", "When will there be a little TH running around?", and other variations of the same questions no less than five times...all while around a bunch of other people. Normally that question is fair game considering our level of comfort with the family, but I didn't realize that they wouldn't realize that maybe the other twenty people standing around us might make that topic of conversation slightly awkward for me. Instead of being able to give them the candid answer I would have normally, yes, we're trying, it's been a couple of months, can you believe with perfect timing and everything there's only a 20% chance of success, it gets hard at times, especially with the way society talks about it as if it's a simple thing, but we're doing a pretty good job of keeping a good attitude about it, I had to respond with a repertoire of lame, metaphorical spin-offs, We're still preheating the oven, There's no bun cooking yet, but we're mixing the batter, etc.
To top the experience off, I was surrounded by the kind of ignorant statements that lately have started to drive me insane:
man 1: yeah, we didn't expect the house to sell in the first month, and we didn't expect M to get pregnant in the first month, either!
man 2: ehhh, atta boy! Way to get her on the first month!
and
woman 1: oh, it's so good that you're due in March--you get to avoid the misery of being pregnant through the hot summer.
woman 2: yeah, well, that was on purpose. We planned it that way.
The first conversation broke my heart on TH's behalf. He's surrounded by friends who "got their wife pregnant" on the first try, and it makes him feel like there's something wrong with him that he didn't. I want to scream "only a 20% chance even in perfect conditions" when people say things like that. It's about luck and probability, not a guy's virility or ability to do something better than others. Unfortunately, that machismo attitude is so prevalent in our society nobody even thinks it's an insensitive and totally illogical thing to say. I used to say things like that and didn't know any better. Now I do. And now I have to listen to people saying things like that all around me, and I die a little inside each time because I know how it crushes my sweet husband, who is doing everything right, who is healthy, who is just as much a man as any of those other ignorant idiots.
The second conversation made me just want to snap, "Oh please. You can hope for for certain timing, but it's luck when you do get it. Don't take so much credit for making it happen that way. Be thankful, not haughty."
So the birthday party turned out to be an exercise in social control, a battle in self-confidence and humility. I was so completely overjoyed at little S's awesome first year, and so utterly thankful to have such good friends and to have been able to be around to see their family transition from two to three.
At the same time, I could not have gotten out of there fast enough, back to a world where I don't have to smile through anger, embarrassment, and, ultimately, sadness. Sadness that we didn't have a little one to add to the melee.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
The number 3
Apparently, 3 is a watershed number for me.
That last one I'm certain of, because it's happened. Twice. Six weeks ago, it signaled the beginning of our local baby boom on the boards. The first two? No problem. The last four? Piece of cake. It was the third announcement on that Monday that felt like a kick in the gut. Yesterday it happened again--another three girls announcing their joyful news. With the third, I felt like someone was pressing down on my chest and I couldn't get a good, deep breath. I felt like I needed to get out of my office, out of my building, out into the sunshine and cool breeze where I could let all the crazy roll of me and find my calm again.
To be clear, this isn't the green-eyed jealousy I struggled with a few weeks ago. I don't feel any negative anything toward the girls who are got pregnant. They all three deserved it so much and have been through a lot to get it. I am thrilled for them. I just want to be thrilled for us, too. And I know that our turn is coming, and 97% of the time that's all I need to know in order to maintain my happy, calm, patient outlook toward this adventure.
It's that other 3% of the time that gets me. The third announcement in a single day that, for whatever reason, makes me feel like a panicky colt in a barn on fire.
So I'm learning to cope with the effects of 3. I didn't go to the boards anymore yesterday. I didn't read baby blogs or funny parenting blogs or even TTC blogs. I turned on some music, focused on my work, and blocked everything out. I cooked dinner with my kitties for company, cleaned the house, enjoyed the gorgeous evening weather, read a book, watched a little TV, and took a bath. Basically, I enjoyed a totally baby-free evening. And somewhere in there I found my calm again. My happiness. My patience.
Calmness. Happiness. Patience.
This message brought to you by the number 3.
- TH was my third boyfriend.
- I taught for three years before getting bored and going back to grad. school.
- I have three siblings and three parents.
- I train for a sport that is actually three sports in one race.
- I want three kids.
- I am on my third cycle of TTC.
- It takes three BFPs in one day to make me completely lose my grip on sanity.
That last one I'm certain of, because it's happened. Twice. Six weeks ago, it signaled the beginning of our local baby boom on the boards. The first two? No problem. The last four? Piece of cake. It was the third announcement on that Monday that felt like a kick in the gut. Yesterday it happened again--another three girls announcing their joyful news. With the third, I felt like someone was pressing down on my chest and I couldn't get a good, deep breath. I felt like I needed to get out of my office, out of my building, out into the sunshine and cool breeze where I could let all the crazy roll of me and find my calm again.
To be clear, this isn't the green-eyed jealousy I struggled with a few weeks ago. I don't feel any negative anything toward the girls who are got pregnant. They all three deserved it so much and have been through a lot to get it. I am thrilled for them. I just want to be thrilled for us, too. And I know that our turn is coming, and 97% of the time that's all I need to know in order to maintain my happy, calm, patient outlook toward this adventure.
It's that other 3% of the time that gets me. The third announcement in a single day that, for whatever reason, makes me feel like a panicky colt in a barn on fire.
So I'm learning to cope with the effects of 3. I didn't go to the boards anymore yesterday. I didn't read baby blogs or funny parenting blogs or even TTC blogs. I turned on some music, focused on my work, and blocked everything out. I cooked dinner with my kitties for company, cleaned the house, enjoyed the gorgeous evening weather, read a book, watched a little TV, and took a bath. Basically, I enjoyed a totally baby-free evening. And somewhere in there I found my calm again. My happiness. My patience.
Calmness. Happiness. Patience.
This message brought to you by the number 3.
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