So for any woman trying to get pregnant, today is D-Day, the dreaded day of every month when my period is due. It is marked in the diary, highlighted in fertility apps and firmly imprinted in my mental calendar.
Today I will hope and pray that the cramps don't bring what I know they inevitably will. I will go to the toilet countless times to check for any sign of a 'show' all the time willing my body not to cheat me again, praying that this month will be the month. I already know it won't be. I can feel the pressure, the pains...and the sadness.
I used to celebrate the arrival of my periods and breathe a sigh of relief...not anymore. I have been through this over 18 times now. At the beginning I told myself "It's OK, hardly anyone gets pregnant that quickly...It's OK, it will happen soon...It's OK you just have to wait for the time to be right etc etc etc". Since the start of this journey I have celebrated births of my friend's children, celebrated their new pregnancies and 'liked' untold pregnancy announcements on social media.
When I am celebrating for other people, I am genuinely happy for them, but at the same time I cannot help but wonder what is wrong with me, when will it be my time, has my fertility ship already sailed? Each new announcement brings a fresh pang of disappointment, fear and self-loathing. I hate myself for not being able to get pregnant, for not being able to do what others do so easily and I also feel guilty for being so jealous of those people and for knowing that whilst I am happy for them, deep down I don't want to know about their joy, because it isn't mine and that hurts beyond comprehension, but it isn't a truth that you can voice, because how can you not be happy about a beautiful baby?
When we first started trying for a baby, we didn't count the months as we thought that it would happen for us before long, so those first six months we weren't trying 'in earnest' (that's how I justify it to myself). When I say we weren't trying in earnest I mean we weren't putting any pressure on ourselves and we said we weren't trying, but we weren't NOT trying. With the arrival of each period we said things like 'Oh well we can go on that holiday now.' telling ourselves it was almost a relief. It wasn't.
Over time we have lied to ourselves so much that it was only earlier this month that I actually realised just how long we have actually been trying for. I looked back through my fertility app and saw data I had been inputting, staring me in the face all the way back to January 2016. You see 2016 was the year of the wedding, the biggest distraction for us in terms of our fertility and the biggest excuse for us to tell ourselves it was all fine, 'At least I'll fit into my dress...At least I can have a drink at the wedding...At least I can enjoy the honeymoon.' I have done all of them things and more now and throughout each one of them I have thought 'OK, I've done this now, next month will be the month and I'll be really happy with the way the timing worked out.' That month has yet to come.
The closest I have come is having my period go overdue by two days. It was so exciting, I could hardly contain myself, I drove to a supermarket to make sure I didn't bump into anyone as I didn't want to share my news yet. For the first time in that supermarket, I met someone I knew, so I left without the highly anticipated test. I waited until the following day when I finally got my hands on the fateful stick and peed on it, whilst my husband perched on the side of the bath and we set a timer on our phones. They are the longest two minutes of your life when you're willing a plastic stick covered in wee to change your life. It didn't. No blue cross appeared and again I cursed my womb as all I saw was #notpregnantjustfat.
My husband reassured me 'It's OK, at least we're getting closer.' That's how we feel when we get to the stage of actually being able to take a test, even though logically we both know that not pregnant is simply not pregnant and it isn't like training for a marathon and simply falling short before the end, but getting closer each time. Not pregnant is just not pregnant.
When the shock of the length of our fertility journey hit me, I realised it was time for more action. More than green teas, Pregnacare tablets, yoga, reflexology, acupuncture and any other number of 'treatments' you care to imagine. I looked back through the data and the little red boxes in each monthly window without fail and I decided this would be the month. If it isn't the month that the stick of wee gives me the news we have been waiting for, then it will be the month that we take action and go to see a doctor.
We have avoided seeing a doctor until now out of fear; fear of the unknown, fear of rejection of being told we are not infertile enough and to give it more time, but most of all fear of having all hope taken away. It is a reality that we know we have to face up to one way or another.
So today I will continue to go to the toilet every fifteen minutes, telling myself that there is still hope, that the 'show' could just be implantation bleeding, or down to being on a plane earlier in the week and not a real period. I will lie to myself until there is no denying it anymore and then I will wallow, but only for a little while, because apparently you can 'think yourself pregnant' and negativity simply will not do. When this month's P-Day has exhausted all hope, I will speak to my husband and setup a date for us to go together to our doctor, to face our reality together, whatever that reality may be.
Until then I'm still #notpregnantjustfat #fertility #pregnancy #tryingforababy #notpregnant #justfat #infertile
Today I will hope and pray that the cramps don't bring what I know they inevitably will. I will go to the toilet countless times to check for any sign of a 'show' all the time willing my body not to cheat me again, praying that this month will be the month. I already know it won't be. I can feel the pressure, the pains...and the sadness.
I used to celebrate the arrival of my periods and breathe a sigh of relief...not anymore. I have been through this over 18 times now. At the beginning I told myself "It's OK, hardly anyone gets pregnant that quickly...It's OK, it will happen soon...It's OK you just have to wait for the time to be right etc etc etc". Since the start of this journey I have celebrated births of my friend's children, celebrated their new pregnancies and 'liked' untold pregnancy announcements on social media.
When I am celebrating for other people, I am genuinely happy for them, but at the same time I cannot help but wonder what is wrong with me, when will it be my time, has my fertility ship already sailed? Each new announcement brings a fresh pang of disappointment, fear and self-loathing. I hate myself for not being able to get pregnant, for not being able to do what others do so easily and I also feel guilty for being so jealous of those people and for knowing that whilst I am happy for them, deep down I don't want to know about their joy, because it isn't mine and that hurts beyond comprehension, but it isn't a truth that you can voice, because how can you not be happy about a beautiful baby?
When we first started trying for a baby, we didn't count the months as we thought that it would happen for us before long, so those first six months we weren't trying 'in earnest' (that's how I justify it to myself). When I say we weren't trying in earnest I mean we weren't putting any pressure on ourselves and we said we weren't trying, but we weren't NOT trying. With the arrival of each period we said things like 'Oh well we can go on that holiday now.' telling ourselves it was almost a relief. It wasn't.
Over time we have lied to ourselves so much that it was only earlier this month that I actually realised just how long we have actually been trying for. I looked back through my fertility app and saw data I had been inputting, staring me in the face all the way back to January 2016. You see 2016 was the year of the wedding, the biggest distraction for us in terms of our fertility and the biggest excuse for us to tell ourselves it was all fine, 'At least I'll fit into my dress...At least I can have a drink at the wedding...At least I can enjoy the honeymoon.' I have done all of them things and more now and throughout each one of them I have thought 'OK, I've done this now, next month will be the month and I'll be really happy with the way the timing worked out.' That month has yet to come.
The closest I have come is having my period go overdue by two days. It was so exciting, I could hardly contain myself, I drove to a supermarket to make sure I didn't bump into anyone as I didn't want to share my news yet. For the first time in that supermarket, I met someone I knew, so I left without the highly anticipated test. I waited until the following day when I finally got my hands on the fateful stick and peed on it, whilst my husband perched on the side of the bath and we set a timer on our phones. They are the longest two minutes of your life when you're willing a plastic stick covered in wee to change your life. It didn't. No blue cross appeared and again I cursed my womb as all I saw was #notpregnantjustfat.
When the shock of the length of our fertility journey hit me, I realised it was time for more action. More than green teas, Pregnacare tablets, yoga, reflexology, acupuncture and any other number of 'treatments' you care to imagine. I looked back through the data and the little red boxes in each monthly window without fail and I decided this would be the month. If it isn't the month that the stick of wee gives me the news we have been waiting for, then it will be the month that we take action and go to see a doctor.
We have avoided seeing a doctor until now out of fear; fear of the unknown, fear of rejection of being told we are not infertile enough and to give it more time, but most of all fear of having all hope taken away. It is a reality that we know we have to face up to one way or another.
So today I will continue to go to the toilet every fifteen minutes, telling myself that there is still hope, that the 'show' could just be implantation bleeding, or down to being on a plane earlier in the week and not a real period. I will lie to myself until there is no denying it anymore and then I will wallow, but only for a little while, because apparently you can 'think yourself pregnant' and negativity simply will not do. When this month's P-Day has exhausted all hope, I will speak to my husband and setup a date for us to go together to our doctor, to face our reality together, whatever that reality may be.
Until then I'm still #notpregnantjustfat #fertility #pregnancy #tryingforababy #notpregnant #justfat #infertile
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