So, I’m don’t trying to have another baby. I’m seriously fucking done.
I’m done trying to figure out what advice to follow. Do we have sex every night that I have a decent amount of CM, like Taking Charge of Your Fertility says? Or do we have sex every other night regardless of when I have CM, because it gives his swimmers time replenish?
I’m done trying to recognize logical patterns in my past cycles and then make informed decisions based on those patterns because MY BODY IS NOT LOGICAL AND I AM NEVER INFORMED, at least not until it’s too late.
I’m done peeing on OPKs only to never get a fucking dark enough line to indicate ovulation. I’m done feeling broken and subfertile, like something is wrong with me.
I’m done stressing out over whether we should have sex. This month I was trying to go with the just-have-sex-every-other-day-approach like everyone has been telling me to do but then we had sex on CDs 11 and 13 and I just KNEW I’d ovulate on CD14 because, well, I’ve NEVER ovulated later than that, not in 20+ charted cycles, not ONCE so I figured, surely this month I’ll ovulate on CD14, since it’s CD13 and I haven’t yet and sure, we’re supposed to be having sex every other night but two nights in a row won’t hurt if it means we’ll hit my O date.
So I stay up super late after an already super late class, waiting for Mi.Vida to come home from a concert and when he does he’s a little tipsy and we manage sex, but just barely and it’s certainly not much fun and then I wake up this morning to guess-who-didn’t-ovulate on CD14. Yep. This girl.
And guess who finally got something resembling a positive OPK this morning. Yep, this girl. So now I feel like the biggest idiot asshole in the whole world. If we had just followed the stupid sex-every-other-day rule we’d have saved ourselves a lot of grief AND had a better chance and getting pregnant. Instead we’ll have sex again tonight, which means three days in a row and just like that, my need to try to make sense of the senselessness that is my body has fucked up our chances of getting pregnant yet again.
I’m just so done with this. So done with the inner monologue and the second guessing and the uncertainty. I’m so sick of not knowing what to do and not having a plan I feel good about and then having a plan and then not following it and then having my decisions kick me in the ass.
Why do I NEVER make the right decision? Why do I even try?
And the reality is, this isn’t even that big of a deal but after all the back and forth in my head, the not being sure and not knowing what to do and building it up in order to come to a decision, well it just feels like I fucked up something really, really important.
But it’s not because even if we had timed it perfectly we still probably wouldn’t have gotten pregnant. But that won’t stop me from blaming myself when we get another BFN in two weeks.
I’m just done.
So sorry Isa, no little sister or brother for you. Your mom couldn’t hack it. She just didn’t have it in her. She’s just not good enough for this horrible exercise in uncertainty and failure and letting go.
Sucks to be you Isa. Sucks to be all of us.