* Last March, I wrote this post called Baby Fever. Who knew a year later I would be feeling the exact same way? …still childless.
* My mind is completely wrapped around this right now …which means that I cannot write a single word about anything else.
* My thoughts are random and scattered.
* This month I didn’t even ovulate. This month where my husband finally decided he was really ready …I didn’t even ovulate. I went through 3 $40 boxes of ovulation sticks. {for the next cycle I have started the ClearBlue monitor}
* The quote I posted yesterday is completely regarding this. However, it doesn’t remove the hope/disappointment cycle that accompanies each month that ends in a bloody mess thus making me feel like a failure as a woman.
* We’ve had all the tests done and the doctor says we’re normal …slow because we’re in our 30’s but normal/healthy.
* Do we have too much sex? It seems like people who are getting knocked up quickly don’t seem to have much sex until they decide to have a baby …then BOOM. Pregnant.
* The word INfertile drives me crazy. It’s a disgusting word. It should never be used.
* We have not tried any drugs or IVF …and we don’t plan on it.
* I wonder why I cannot just throw in the towel and start planning for adoption? …but there’s something about being pregnant that has always intrigued me. I’ve always said I can’t wait to be pregnant!
* Why isn’t it happening?
* I mean, people who have raging drug problems and are homeless and raped get pregnant …where is the sense in that?
* I don’t want to have to try so hard. Resisting the obvious may be part of the problem. It’s the weirdest thing in the world to me …I never ever thought it would be an issue. Ever. ..I’m sure no one does.
* I am 100% embarrassed about the situation.
I wrote this last November but didn’t publish it
My husband has been trying to knock me up for a little over a year now and still …nothing. We have both been tested and the test results were normal. We have not started any fertility drugs nor will we. I’m not into that {for me}. I don’t care what anyone else does.
Last August I thought I was pregnant ~ accidentally. I started a baby blog. I started writing down every single thing I was feeling in a cute little paper journal. He bought me pregnancy books for our paper anniversary. I was sick but excited.
…and then I got my period and realized I was just sick.
Since we were both seemingly excited about a possible pregnancy, we decided to stop pulling out and start actually trying to have a baby.
I naively assumed that as soon as he sperminated me, I would be with child. Wow, was I wrong.
What happens when you don’t get pregnant as soon as you think you will is this: questions, questioning, and re-thinking everything.
Month after month of wanting something so badly and not getting it is depressing to say the least. At the end of every cycle when my period came, I was not only pms-ing, I was sad that I was not pregnant. The blood signified failure to me and it still does. Thoughts like “I’m good at anything I set my mind to but not this” became the focus. It was more about me not being able to get pregnant than having a baby.
The questions started.
I went from having a completely romantic and magical view of babies and children to a rigid and logical and eye-opening truth of what bringing a life into this world meant and asking myself if I truly was ready for it or not.
The questions that never entered my mind before and would balk at others for worrying about came crashing in on me. Once excited by the idea of having a baby growing inside me now scares the shit out of me. What if there is a problem? What if something goes wrong? All that blood drawn. All those doctor appointments while pregnant. ALL THOSE DOCTOR APPOINTMENTS. Which do not end once the kid comes out of you.
Dealing with doctors that won’t listen to you and hospitals and not wanting drugs that they want to force on you. I want a midwife but what if something goes wrong …I told you so’s out the wazooo. Everyone telling you how to raise your kid but haven’t a clue how to raise their own.
NO more sex and intimacy with the husband. That one freaks me out. I’m sure it freaks him out too.
When I see parents having a hard time getting their kids to listen to them in public I used to tilt my head and think it was cute. Now I can’t help but think about how fucking annoying it must be to have this little person not listen to a thing you say.
They’re sick all the time. ALL. THE. TIME! Every parent I know is sick all the time as well. Every time the kids get sick, so do the parents. Annoying. Your house becomes a kid haven. Toys and junk and trash everywhere. Baby proofing everything. Annoying.
Even after concluding that maybe we’re not ready, at 32 I don’t feel like I have much time. I only hear more and more horrendous stories of older women having babies …how it not only affects the mother’s pregnancy but the kids all seem to have issues as well. Like pure bred dogs, always an issue.
But it doesn’t even matter because the fact is that I am not getting pregnant. Something is keeping me from bearing children and instead of forcing it with fertility treatments, I will choose to adopt. {I’ve always wanted a little black baby anyway …they’re the cutest}
But even after deciding that kids aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, I get a bad case of the blues every time I start bleeding or see a pregnant woman or read another blog post that says BIG NEWS! I’M PREGNANT! …I’m sad because even through all these negatives, I want to be able to say I’m pregnant and I fear I will never be able too.
I’m scared of throwing in the towel and just saying fuck it, let’s adopt when we’re 40 {which is honestly how I’m feeling} but I guess it’s more a fear of regretting not having kids. It sounds so terminal. And, since my future plans were to have kids and start a family …what the fuck am I going to do instead?
Re-think everything.
