Full Disclosure: this is NOT a recipe. If you want cookies, hit that tab ya fool.
It has been entirely too long since I’ve written a post or shared a recipe. That being said, I just started a sweet new weekend schedule at work and now have all week to bake and blab. Here is where the Wilsons are at after seven lovely months of marriage… trying to get pregnant. And, so far, failing.
I spent my teenage years (sorry mom and dad) and the better part of my twenties trying NOT to get pregnant. Then I met Derick and got engaged. We talked a lot about how our future would look. Last year we moved from a bungalow in Indy to the suburbs. We wanted to start making a home where we could grow our family. Even before our wedding in December we were trying to conceive. It is now July. I am not pregnant.
From ages seventeen to twenty-seven, I let birth control do what I could have done for myself without a second thought. In doing that, I remained grossly uneducated about my body and my cycle. Having a man with a mullet gloss over sex ed at the age of 14, I knew the bare minimum. I knew unprotected sex could lead to pregnancy, but I didn’t realize how well-timed it needed to be. I didn’t know what a miracle it was to conceive… because I was so afraid of it happening for so long. Needless to say, I think we need better education. I shouldn’t have gotten mine, as a nurse, at 28, when finally trying to get pregnant.
So, I got educated.
I learned all about follicular vs luteal. I learned all about my fertile window. I bought a basal body thermometer and went on to buy a tracking bracelet to really know what was happening with my body. I watched my temperature and heart rate rise every month and got heartbroken when I saw them fall. I peed on LH tests every month and got stoked to see them turn positive. Then I peed on pregnancy tests and cried harder at every negative. My charts were perfect, we were having well-time intercourse, and we weren’t getting pregnant. Sure it can take a normal, healthy couple 6 months to a year to get pregnant, but the truth is that it generally doesn’t. We knew something was up.
To spare you details (unless you’re one of my lucky friends who already knows an unreal amount about my husband’s anatomy), I’ll leave it vague. We are a month out from a surgery that will, God willing, fix our fertility struggles. That being said, we aren’t quite out of the woods, since there is still no bun in the oven (this is primarily a baking blog… I had to). If (and praying when) we get pregnant, it will be extra sweet given the trials of the past several months.
This isn’t for the faint of heart.
We have felt really tested, both as individuals and as a couple. It isn’t my place to share Derick’s feelings, so I’ll speak from my heart only. I’ve seen a lot of couples trying for less time than us get pregnant, and it’s been brutal. My friends who have gotten pregnant have been considerate of the struggle we are facing, and I couldn’t be happier to share in their joy. There have been inconsiderate assholes along the way though. Can I say asshole here? Am I going to get in trouble?? Anyway, I’ve dealt with some people that have been less than gracious about their own pregnancies and “super fertility” despite knowing that we are having a rough time. I could really make you cringe with some of the things people have said to me, but through this I’m reminded that negativity doesn’t get you anywhere.
Every time I see one of my pregnant coworkers or have to care for a pregnant patient (bonus points if they’re drug addicts with no means of taking care of the life growing inside them), it gets in my head. Remember what I said about negativity not getting you anywhere? Sometimes it is hard to shut it down. In those moments, the fear settles in and I wonder, “what if I never get to be a mother?” I hope one of the aforementioned a-holes isn’t reading this waiting to write something like “stop trying and it will happen” or “you can always adopt.” I am entitled to feel how I feel. The thought of never experiencing pregnancy and childbirth crushes my soul on the absolute deepest level.
All we can do is deal with it.
That is what I keep telling myself. I’ve done my research. I’ve been read books and medical journals on diet, supplements, and lifestyle changes that can up our chances of conceiving naturally. We’ve implemented them. For the less sciencey part of me, I’ve said a lot of prayers and read my fair share of stories that fill me with hope from couples who have conquered the beast that is infertility. I’ve never been an exemplary Catholic, but I’ve always been one to rely on my faith. It is this faith in God and my faith in my marriage to Derick, that lift me up when I’m down.
As a couple, I don’t think we could have dealt with this any better. I’m reminded why I married Derick every day. I’m constantly humbled by his kindness, in awe of his selflessness, and grateful to call him my husband. I wouldn’t want to fight this fight with anyone else. Trying to get pregnant in and of itself is stressful, even without obstacles. Having timed intercourse with the added pressure of hoping to conceive rips the romance and fun right out of the bedroom fairly quickly. We have days where we are both emotional and tensions run high. If we didn’t, that would be a red flag to me. Even in the midst of a struggle, we find ways to enjoy each other. A few weeks ago we went on a trip to Maine. Last night we went on a movie date. Next month we are going to Hawaii.
It is because we can get emotional and in the same breath plan a date night, that I know we will be okay. With or without a baby, we still have each other, and while a child is a blessing, my marriage is too.
Thanks for letting me be a tart of your world.