20 June 2009 was the last day I swallowed a Yaz tablet. It was written in fine-point Sharpie on our calendar not long after returning home from a week in Ireland. I remember how excited Michael and I were when we made the decision to start trying to get pregnant, imagining what it would be like to have a child with his eyes and my double-jointed elbows. And being the woman, I remember wondering how it would feel to have my belly expand to make room for a growing Wynne. Sure Michael gets to be a daddy, but I get to be the baby-grower.
I have been trying to find an image that succinctly describes how I'm starting to feel, and I happened to find it on the blog of another woman (named Sarah) who is also trying to conceive (her site is here):
Maybe it's lame to use an egg cartoon when fertility is your personal monster, but how can anyone make it without a little humor?
Despite the fact my blood tests back in January proved my hormone levels to be normal, I am calling fertility my monster. This is due to the fact that over the course of this last year, I have only had 5 periods. Today, I started my sixth one after a 63-day lag time. 63 days is a VERY long time to wait considering that each day that goes by, and for every symptom that I have experienced, spurs the thought: "Maybe I'm pregnant!"
And think it, I did. There were 5-day stretches of perpetual nausea. There was unusual back pain. There were even sensations of having reflux and gastrointestinal churning and burning. But I might as well have set fire to the wads of cash I spent on pregnancy tests. No matter how perfectly I counted to 5 while peeing on a stick (including the "Mississippis"), I still ended up with the same blue minus sign every time. Now I have a stash of pregnancy tests in the middle drawer of our bathroom. There are 3 different brands, ready for back-up proofing of the first positive sign that shows up on one of those little guys.
Even though I want to bring up a child with Michael more than anything else, I fear the "next steps" that come with the fertility monster. I would be willing to try homeopathic remedies, oral hormones, or even acupuncture, but I do not want it to get to this point:
Yeah, "nature's little miracle" would cost $15,000 (at the low end) and without a guarantee. Where's the nature in that?
My annual visit is in a week. Maybe my gynecologist will be able to offer up some advice so the fertility monster can be caged for, at least, a little while.