Keep Your Fingers Crossed

Greetings Lovelies! I hope you all are well!

For the last two months I anticipated a plus sign after waiting the required numbers of weeks in between medically induced menstrual cycles. Alas, no pink plus. Just a line. I made myself sexually available for that? A line! Give me a break. Just kidding.

I thought the disappointment would seize me—grip me from the bowels and leave me emotionally wrecked. Ahhh….me with the dramatics, right? Yet, I feel content, at ease, and comfortable. One more month with the Clomid. One more shot at a relatively cheap chance to create life. I think the devastation lies more in knowing if I don’t conceive this last time our run stops. We decided since the rest of our treatment options are not covered by insurance we will not be able to move forward with assistance. The next step is a surgical procedure designed to see if my tubes are indeed open. A procedure we cannot afford now or in the near future. The literature I’ve read online states many doctors allow their patients to continue Clomid treatment for up to nine months--- I will be sure to ask my doctor if I am a candidate for that long term effort. But I guess if my tubes are closed why take pills for six more months? What I’m getting at here is that I am not at ease nor comfortable with running out of options. The lack of options tries my patience, my heart..

Therefore ladies, I commence month three. I have a raging period (thus after I should have stellar uterine lining perfect for housing a baby), a loving husband, and a new bra. Perhaps the combination will serve me well.

Peace,
Jessica

PS: My sister called me to tell me that she learned in birth class that amniotic fluid and breast milk taste the same. I replied, “Eww.”

Not Barefoot, Not Pregnant, But Not Worried

Being a real life adult is starting to get exciting. I remember in college feeling I had somehow amassed an incredible amount of maturity and responsibility by buying my own books and groceries. Now I when I muse on those days I realize the level of accountability I had amounted to almost nothing. Paying my cable bill topped my list of priorities. We fought over luxury items like name brand detergent and beer. Even though Chris and I have no brood, no strollers or snacks to pack, I feel more adult than I ever imagined at 21.

I pay bills—bills I have to account for by budgeting. I think about the months ahead rather than getting through this one month. I’ve come to the conclusion the hubby is starting to grapple with the complexity of becoming a real life adult as well. The other day in the car he interrupted my favorite talk radio host with a surprised, “Are you telling me that in 9 months we might need to buy a car?” I replied an emphatic yes. He is starting to put the pieces of a new reality together if we get pregnant. A new car, the need to move to a baby friendly house, car seats, the list goes on. We’ve surmised life as we know will be different. And that difference possibly would have scared us to death a year ago. But now the idea of living life from a whole new perspective sounds exhilarating.

It seems we’ve entered a new stage in our relationship. We talk more about the future with reason and logic—and a little less imaginary bliss. We play out scenarios and explore actual options rather than pretend ones. And what I have never really experienced before is this incredible comfort of being on the same page. I used to keep my struggle with my weight and fertility a secret--- even from Chris. I knew he loved me, but inviting him in to something so personal I don’t know if I can stand that level of vulnerability. But alas, this vulnerability has jump started this “togetherness” more than ever. He’s with me on this one--- I don’t have to sail the ship along and bring him aboard when all the hard work is done. He surprised me the other day by making a very sincere request: please wait for him to be there when I took a pregnancy test. It might sound strange but I never took pregnancy tests with him around. Maybe it was the looming disappointment or the embarrassment of taking one “just because” I had a shred of hope that day. I don’t know. Yet, this request was followed with a genuine interest in understanding charting and becoming more knowledgeable in trying to conceive.

 I feel overwhelmed when I realize how Chris and I continually have grown up together. As we approach this new impasse of infertility we have no choice but to rally each other. We can’t leave the other to stand alone--- we have to forge ahead--- together. Just like we did when we graduated, when we went to college, when we lost a parent each, when we moved across the country, and whatever else creates hiccups in life. And while we don’t have the level of responsibility of many parents out there, we feel ready to take on the challenge and thrill of welcoming a new member to our little family.