Why, hello there + welcome.
I started this blog because I was tired of dealing with monologues to myself (and my poor husband) late nights on the couch or in early-morning sleepless bouts in my bed. I was tired of running through all the things in my head about the journey that is trying to conceive– or TTC as they say on the interwebs in various baby-making message boards. I was tired of the aching, lonely feeling that came every month after a negative pregnancy test.
I am honestly surprised that I’m in this position. Yesterday, my husband asked me if I ever imagined a year ago that I’d be sitting at a restaurant booth getting teary eyed over a a baby bib that said “Worth the Wait” with a cartoon turtle on it that I saw on Reddit. Yeah. And the answer was no. When I was younger, I was sure with super certainty that I didn’t want a baby at all. I didn’t feel like I was the ideal candidate for the title of mother. I didn’t even start to warm to the idea until I met the man who would become my husband, a man who I think came out of the womb ready and waiting to be a father. His love and joy and passion for fatherhood unlocked something deep and primal within me. He showed me that being a mother might not be a horrible idea.
Don’t take that the wrong way, reader. It’s not that I’m an awful person, it’s that I had a hard time seeing the spot in my life where a baby went. I’m a workaholic. I’ve been working since I was 15 and could get a job. I’ve often held multiple full time jobs while balancing various other projects and pursuits. I like to travel. I like to go out for cocktails. I like to feel like I’m the master of my own ship. Babies are more than a full time job. They are a lifelong commitment. To the younger, more selfish me, that was the scariest prospect ever.
But then I fell in love, and I got married, and I saw how wonderful a child may be in our lives. And one day I woke up and I wanted a baby. I was ready. I don’t know if it was some biological clock thing or just the fact that I had gotten to the point in my life where I didn’t need to be selfish and self-serving any longer, and that for me– for us– it was right to have a baby. It was time! I told my husband I was ready if he was (he was!) and we stopped taking preventative actions to get pregnant.
And I, like countless other women and couples out there that had spent so much of their lives (for me, 18 years) trying NOT to get pregnant, thought that as soon as we were ready to seal the deal that 9 months later I’d be a momma. Um. No.
Thus began our journey as future-parents. This month will mark the seventh month since we’ve decided we wanted to get pregnant. That’s not very long in the grand scheme of things, and six full months before it’s recommended that we go to an RE (reproductive endocrinologist– or fertility specialist) for extra help, because I’m 33 (soon to be 34) and husband is 30.
I am currently 6 DPO (Days past ovulation) and this cycle I’ve really tried to be less crazy, but every cycle I turn crazy and obsessed and read into every signal, sign or possible indication that I am in fact pregnant. After months of disappointment, I’ve still not learned my lesson– and so I continue to obsess.
This, dear reader, is equal parts sanity-keeping blog and blog for me to chart my own obsessions, observations, tips, and resources that we’ve explored or used in our months TTC. I hope you’ll join in the fun.