September 7 – Weeks Trying to Get Pregnant: 27 – Cycle 6, Month 7
What do my coworker who got married last November, my high school classmate, my middle school classmate, Joy-Anna Duggar, my former roommate slash bridesmaid, and Princess Kate all have in common? They all announced they were pregnant in the last two weeks.
What do my high school friend, my former babysitter, and my other coworker have in common? They all had babies in the last two weeks.
All of these women have had unique journeys or obstacles on their way to pregnancy. Well, except for Joy-Anna. She seems to have gotten pregnant on or near her wedding night which is also the first time she kissed anyone, so there’s that. And maybe some of the others got pregnant easily too. As much as I want to scream at every pregnant woman, “How long did you try for?, Were you even taking your BBT?, How many tries did you get in your fertile window?,” I can’t actually ask for intimate details of her conception.
There is not a limited number of babies in the universe, I remind myself. And I know at least two of the above-mentioned women have endured immense loss before getting to this point. But it is not about who has gone through the hardest time or deserves a baby the most, is it?
[Side Note: If it was merit-based, Jenelle Evans sure as heck wouldn’t have gotten pregnant four times, amiright?!]
I’m 28 years old, so it’s not overstating it to say that I know and interact with a lot of pregnant women. I’ve been trying for going on 7 months and in that time 7 babies have been born in my family or social circle. And I’m not talking about the former classmates or babysitters, this is cousins or friends I still talk to or people I go to church with. But beyond the very real fact that there are a lot of babies and pregnancies around me, I’m also falling victim to the Frequency Illusion.
Once you start trying to get pregnant, you notice the pregnancies and babies everywhere. I frequently walk at the mall on my lunch break. Maybe the mall was filled with pregnant women before I started trying to get pregnant, but I don’t remember because I didn’t have a sixth sense about it back then. Now, it seems like I can’t get away from them.
[Side Note: I just received an email while editing this post at work. One of my coworkers announced & shared pictures of his brand new grand-baby who was born yesterday. Mazel Tov.]
Maybe I don’t have any real claim to being so sad or jealous, seeing as how I’m not suffering infertility yet. Instead, I live in this awkward limbo where I cannot claim fertility or infertility. The majority of people actively trying would have been pregnant by now. But you don’t get an infertility diagnosis until you reach one year of trying — or have some condition discovered prior to then.
I think that is why I started sharing here. This is not a post I will share broadly and I will absolutely get less than 10 reads. That feels right. I’m not just shouting into the void, but most people will never see it. Maybe I will find out next week that this cycle actually is a winner and these posts will fade in my mind. Or maybe I’ll still be sitting here a year from now and I will appreciate the record of this time in sub-fertile land.
In sub-fertile land, I already feel sadness and longing and jealousy. I am trying not to dismiss these feelings as irrational and instead attempting to accept that it is normal. I do not need to diminish what I am feeling just because others have suffered for a much longer time with no results. It is not absurd to be upset before that year of waiting is complete.
Next week will mark my third trimester of trying to get pregnant. That sounds a lot more real than 7 months. If I’d gotten pregnant the first try, my baby would be the size of a head of cauliflower today. Instead I am still worried about every twinge. Was that the beginning of a PMS cramp, or maybe I just literally felt the implantation of a little baby embryo? You cannot feel implantation, I remind myself.
It really messes with your head. Even when you’ve “just” been trying for seven months.
Two people at work know I am trying. One is the aforementioned woman who is expecting in March. The other is my office neighbor and yesterday he basically rubbed other co-worker’s pregnancy in my face. He needled me, gleefully trying to get information about if I’m expecting too and did I already know she was expecting. I stewed for an hour while he was on a conference call. Then I confronted him. I didn’t say 1/4 of the things I’d been stewing about, but I think he got the picture: I’m not being coy and I don’t want to talk about it.
My productivity has been so low lately, probably due to an increase in my anxiety and depression. But I know the stress of not getting pregnant has been one culprit behind this increase.
How do you create healthy mental separation from something causing anxiety when that something is your own body?
I know this state is untenable. I know I need to learn how to accept that it is what it is. I’m working on it.
theotherelise 