Coming to Terms

TGIF. Seriously.

First off, thank you everyone who left words of encouragement yesterday. I can’t tell you how much it meant to know that others understood how upset I was. I know that in the grand scheme of things it’s not that big a deal. I know that people have had to wait infinitely longer to try, and then get pregnant. I know this. I don’t think missing this month would have been so hard if I hadn’t put myself through so much to get ready. These past two weeks have been so hard, and I endured it all so I could give it a try this month and then we missed it and it was all for nothing. That was a hard pill to swallow.

There are other reasons missing this month bothered me and I’ve been trying to parse them out in my head. I think the number one reason it upset me so much is that I like to be in control. I like to plan for every possible contingency and when I intend to do something, it generally gets done. I sensed that Tuesday was the day and I even bought the extra Pre-Seed just in case, even though I knew there was a chance it might arrive later that afternoon (as it did). And then I got home and events out of my control–our fight and Mi.Vida feeling sick–ruined my plans. And I HATE that. There is already so much about TTC that is out of my control, fumbling the stuff that is in my control drives me batty.

My reaction to this has also inspired me to look more closely at how I feel about TTC as a whole. The truth is, I’m not in an incredibly hurry to get pregnant. In fact, if we had gotten pregnant this month, and the pregnancy stuck, the due date would have been difficult to manage. Of course I assume we won’t get pregnant on the first (or second or third tries), or that the first won’t stick, so we’re starting early.

And the truth is, this is almost certainly my last chance at being pregnant. Despite my burning desire for a third child (more on the insanity of that soon to come), it’s not financially possible. So this is it. And there is a part of me that is sad for that, to know this is it. And I want to savor it. I’m the kind of person that enjoy the build up to the vacation almost as much as the actual vacation. So I’m not in a huge hurry to be pregnant. I’m really not. So why am I freaking out?

I think the thing is, I’m not scrambling to get pregnant but I am scrambling to be done trying. Unfortunately the two are mutually exclusive. I can’t just decide to get pregnant and do it. If I could, all would be fairy queefs and unicorn farts. But I can’t. And the truth is, I hate TTC. I loathe it. And while I don’t need to get pregnant immediately, I don’t want to be trying for a long time.

I’ve been trying to determine what about TTC is so horrible for me and I think I’ve figured it out. Every cycle that we don’t get pregnant I feel like we’ve failed. I mean, we have failed, right? We’ve failed to get pregnant. We set out to do something and it didn’t get done. And while I know that it’s not the same as failing at other things in life–because I don’t have control over the luck involved in actually getting pregnnat–it feels the same to me. I don’t like failing and TTC is chalk full of it.

Also, there is an irrational part of me that feels like every time we don’t get pregnant, it means the next time we have less chance of getting pregnant. I know that isn’t true, not really. I know that it’s like rolling a die and at school I roll die all the time. I use a six-sided die to dismiss my sixth graders because sixth graders are obsessed with “fair” and nothing is less biased than the roll of a die. And there are times I roll that die and roll that die and can’t hit either of the last two rows left to dismiss. And every time I think, maybe 4 and 6 will be the numbers I need to get pregnant and I just won’t roll them for the longest time. So I get it, in my head, but in my heart every negative test means that something might be wrong, that I have even less of a chance that it will happen the next time, that my opportunities are running out.

So yeah, I’ve been grappling with all that these past 24 hours and it’s been enlightening, to say the least. I’m trying to move past this busted month because really, what else can I do? My options are to wallow or move on. I guess the latter is the more productive choice, thought it can be a hard one for me to accept.

There is one thing making me feel better, and I wrote about it here, at my new blog. It has to do with faith, which I didn’t think I had for the longest time, but now I realize I do. And it brings peace. And for that I’m thankful.


3 responses

  1. It all makes sense to me. Last post too, although I didn’t get to commenting. Its a complete mindfuck, and it builds, month to month to become something bigger than it actually is. (We had a very similar sitch a few cycles ago, and I was so frigging angry, not just cos of the fight but because that was ov night and it was all over for that month too.)

    Of course this is just my take on it, but you know when you focus on something as much as you do when charting/OPKing/mucus considering, its every day, every toilet visit, you’re on to it constantly. Then it comes to the crunch. How can Sexytime possibly be fun when you’ve pretty much waved 2 OPK lines at DP and said “c’mon bigboy, time for jackaction. I need your wrigglers inside me”? Pressure for you, and pressure for him.
    So with all this stress, we’re more tense, and more likely to blow up at small (or not so small!) things.
    I know to some people make-up sex after a fight is good, but doesn’t work for me – too many disgruntlings rattling round my head distracting me and not exactly making me feel all smoochy. preseed aint exactly a smooth spontaneous precursor.
    But its different for everyone, I know.

    Oh and the control thing of course – micromanaging infertility and all its associated funs, kinda goes hand in hand with the above. TTC sucks (and yet, whats the alternative? hordes of doctors and god knows who else peering up your ladybits and jabbing you?)

  2. I’m sorry that this month passed in this way. The frustration is so familiar.

    “I think the thing is, I’m not scrambling to get pregnant but I am scrambling to be done trying.”

    I can identify so strongly with this sentiment. It may seem odd/ungrateful to you but I feel this way even now during this pregnancy. I don’t really want it to end, most certainly my last time ever pregnant and so far without real complications, but I just can’t get over the anxiety that I associate with this state so I wish for the inevitable end to come soon and reassure me that it is really going to turn out all right.

  3. The loss of control is horrible, isn’t it? Even when rationally we know we can’t control it, and we know that just because we didn’t get pregnant one month we won’t the next, it still sends us slightly bonkers. Wishing you peace – and glad you’re finding it, however you’re finding it.

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