Monday, December 12th (posted on January 8th, 2012)
I’ve never been very maternal. I worked on a Family Birth Center floor of Methodist hospital for 4.5 years during grad school and it was curious that even from the beginning, I looked at a baby for what it was--a pink screaming blob that miraculously entered this world and was about to change a family’s life in unforeseen yet an utmost magically sensational way. Even when I watched my co-workers coo at babies and talk about how “precious” or “adorable” these little newborn babies were I found myself feigning a smile and agreeing.....but I never felt what they felt. I never have and still don’t feel maternal. My mom once told me that it’s a hormonal trigger that suddenly hits you in your 20s and sometimes we manifest this expression in other ways such as by means of our relative’s babies or by creating a lovable attachment to our pets. I never questioned my lack of sentiment for those little bundles of joy because I chalked it up to my own immaturity that I would out-grow and the feeling of “not being ready”.
For years, my sister and I both exchanged our typical Sex and the City antics relaying how expensive and annoying children are and how little desire we had to have a child at this point in our lives. I carried on with my life those next few years with my husband, Jon, adopting two kitties along the way. I talk incessantly about them and find myself becoming wrapped up in their daily issues. I admiringly watch the way Jon talks to our kitties as though they are his own children that need our love. I always knew he’d make a great dad because he possesses qualities that make him loyal and devoted to the ones that he loves. Yet, none of these signs actually triggered a sensation for wanting a kid of my own. I knew I had time as I am only in my 20s, and that eventually we would have them so I never troubled myself with these thoughts.
Then April 21st changed all of this. As I sat during the funeral service of a close family friend from childhood who lost her baby at 20 weeks gestation, I sat curiously watching her tear-stricken face and the look of devastation over someone that weighed less than a pound. Although I can’t comprehend the love a mother has for her unborn child, I never doubted her grief--I knew it was real. It amazed me that something so little could turn someone’s life entirely upside down and change them in ways that she would only begin to understand. In the midst of this devastating news, we were also awaiting the birth of our niece, Anna. I sat there baffled as to how we could both be saying goodbye to a child at the same time we we were welcoming one into the world. Both elicited such overwhelming emotions--none of which I would understand until I had children of my own, but that still managed to penetrate my soul. Somehow....so much emotion that week over the tiny little life finally triggered something inside of me.
I hinted to Jon a few days after Anna was born that I was thinking about getting pregnant. Jon was ready to have kids about 5 years ago so I knew he would be on-board so sure enough a little smile creeped onto his face as he raised his eye-brows at me excitedly asking inquisitively, “really!?”. I told him I wanted to think about it for a few more days so we weren’t hasty, and so Jon sat down and crunch the numbers to make sure we were financially capable of making ends meet. A few days later, my cell phone alarmed at 7:30pm indicating it was time to take birth control......and I just sat there. I wasn’t going to take it. A chill ran up my spine. Were we really going to do this? And so begins our journey.....
Like so many girls, I naively went into this experience expecting that we were going to get pregnant wicked fast. I declared that I was going to be easy-going and stress-free. I personally never understood why girls got so worked up when trying to have a baby and I vowed that I had the knowledge and resources to never allow myself to turn into some crazy TTC (trying to conceive) woman.
I told Jon that there were ways I could track my fertile signs for ovulation and that was when we would BD (baby dance). Some track ovulation by using a basal body thermometer which operates similar to a regular thermometer except it measures to the hundredth degree for more accuracy. A BBT (basal body temperature) is your resting body temperature first thing in the morning after a fresh 7-8 hours of sleep allowing your body sufficient amount of time to regulate itself without the added factors of movement, eating, and anything else that can cause your internal temperatures to flucuate.
Unbeknownst to me, for the last 16 years of my life my body every month like clockwork prepared to implant an embryo in my uterus just in case I happened to conceive that month. Around the time of ovulation, an egg follicle is released and travels through the fallopian tube and, if fertilized, will implant itself into the uterus to make a baby. In order for this to happen, every month our hormones regulate the uterus in preparation for a healthy embryo by producing high levels of progesterone which increases our internal body temperature. Progesterone will also make an embryo habitable so that implantation sticks and begins to grow. You can detect a temperature shift immediately after ovulation has occurred every month because your BBT will rise about 0.5 degree and stay elevated until your period arrives in which estrogen takes over again and your temperature plummets to prepare for the next cycle (unless you’re pregnant--that is). Amazing, isn't it?
Initially, I told Jon that I wasn’t going to get too detailed about TTC and that I had no desire to track my BBT because we would just let it happen when it happens. Well, there was one problem. I had no idea when I was going to ovulate. I didn’t know what to expect, and therefore it would make for a long baby-dancing month which could in turn be stressful so I caved almost immediately and bought myself a basal body thermometer. To my delight, in May I tracked ovulation and sighed with relief knowing that my body was regulating itself.......and then I understood why girls get so excited about TTC to the point they stress themselves out. Who wants to wait 2 weeks following ovulation to see if they got pregnant each month!? Every twitch, tinge, ache and cramp suddenly becomes, “OMG, is this normal? Did I feel something? Is this a pregnancy sign!?”. Once you are consciously aware of what your body does, it’s painfully hard to ignore.
When the first month brought my period I just shrugged my shoulders and sighed with relief that at least my cycles were regular and the next month would be it. Next month came and went and once again, I just remained calm and told myself that there is a 25% chance every month that a healthy couple will get pregnant if they track ovulation correctly and so I just needed to give it a little time. Cycle #3 came and went, and I began to think, “Ok, this is going to be a little harder than I thought!”.
Following cycle #4 I decided to go visit my nurse practitioner because I noticed that I was spotting very early during my luteal phase (the time between ovulation and period) which could be a sign that I’m not producing high enough levels of progesterone triggering my period to come earlier and thus I could be fertilizing an egg, but having what is called bio-chemical pregnancies (some have chemical pregnancies and don’t even know it because they miscarry around the time their period is due). I brought up my concerns to my NP and she said that if we weren’t pregnant within the next few cycles I could go in to get my progesterone levels checked during my luteal phase. So during November which was my 7th cycle, I went in to get my blood drawn and fully expecting that everything would be fine. Two weeks ago I received a phone call from my NP who explained to me that my progesterone levels were a little on the low side thus indicating that I wasn’t producing high enough levels to create a habitable environment for an embryo to implant. She immediately asked if I would like to try an infertility drug called Clomid which should not be mistaken for Chlamydia (you don’t want your husband going around telling people you’re on Chlamydia to help you ovulate). She explained that even though I’m ovulating, I’m just barely ovulating and the Clomid could help me ovulate earlier in my cycles thus lengthening my luteal phase to give it time to increase my progesterone levels a little more.
To be fair, medically speaking, I do not have infertility. The key ingredient that defines infertility is that you have to have been TTC for at least a year and I have not reached that unfortunate milestone yet. However, following the phone call with my NP brought a wave of emotions from excitement to be able to try something different that could hopefully help, but also brought disappointment that it was December and I never in my wildest dreams thought last May that I would still be TTC in December. I maintain a healthy weight, eat healthily and exercise regularly so it didn’t make any sense to me why I was having such problems.
Suddenly, I noticed pregnant woman everywhere. I quietly stared at them and wished I could tell them how lucky they were to be pregnant. I wanted to go up to her and ask her how long it took her to get pregnant just so I could gain some perspective. Likewise, Facebook has always been a haven for engagements, deaths, and pregnancy announcements. Yet news of pregnancies which had never triggered me before suddenly brought a quiet rush of envy as I contemplated why it seemed everyone else around was getting pregnant so fast, yet I was silently struggling. So many times I heard, “you only hear the stories of the girls that got pregnant right away, no one ever talks about infertility”.
It is so hard month after month to build up the anticipation of the news that your whole life is about to change in a way you can’t even begin to conceive, and then suddenly be let down. Not just that, but that you have to go through these wave of emotions again in 30 days and that there was no guarantee that next month could be your month either. I don’t mean to paint an extremely pessimistic picture, but after awhile, it starts to become inconceivable (so to speak) that you will finally get the positive pregnancy test because you’ve become so accustomed to seeing a negative pregnancy test it’s hard to imagine it turning out any other way. I’ve always encouraged myself to think positively, but the problem with positivity is that if you allow yourself that ounce of excitement then the pain of a negative pregnancy test stings even more. None of this would matter if we all just got pregnant in 2-3 months, but when it’s been going on for more than 6 months, it gets hard.
The secret (as I’ve come to realize) is to not let yourself become consumed with this process allowing yourself time to enjoy other parts of life and to distract yourself during those most built up and highly anticipated times. Yet, this process is very hard to ignore when you’re taking your BBTs every morning, trying to anticipate ovulation (which can change slightly from month to month) and timing your baby dancing accordingly. Once you have ovulated, every little twitch and pain that comes your way is obvious because when you’re TTC you’ve inadvertently become so in tune with what your body does every month--how can you ignore it now?
I decided to start this blog because last April, Jon and I decided that short of telling a few friends and family members, we were going to keep our TTC a secret because I have been so excited to surprise my family with the news that we’re expecting a baby. The hard part about being tight-lipped is that its taking a lot longer than I thought it would. Therefore, I thought I would write about my experiences to serve a dual purpose, the first being that this experience while frustrating is rather enlightening and teaching me things about myself that are truly amazing. I’m sure in hindsight I’m going to look back at this time smiling to myself that if only I knew what was waiting for me around the corner I would embrace this experience as stepping stone to something far greater than I can possibly imagine. The mere thought we could have a baby in our house a year from now sends chills through my spine so it seems only relevant that I chronicle this experience.
Secondly, following the news that my progesterone deficiency was going to make this process a little harder than I thought, I asked my sister, “why me?”. Over the course of my life I’ve always heard stories of those that struggle to TTC, yet convinced myself that this only happens to OTHER people and that I wasn’t “other” people. I hear so many stories of those that get pregnant right away and I really believed that this would be me, too. It is a little difficult to accept that it’s not going to happen right away. It takes the average couple 9 months to get pregnant, and I’m not to that point yet. I used to dismiss this as merely a myth physicians told their patients only to offer them encouragement when they started to get frustrated. I still don’t understand this statistic because I only hear the stories about people that get pregnant right away or the people that try for years and years and finally resort to IVF--or the people that “give up” and decide to adopt and then inadvertently get pregnant when they’re about ready to go pick up their new baby. You never hear about the people that take 9 months. Are they normal? Are they out there? Am I going to be one of those people?
I feel that it is my personal responsibility to share my experiences with those that are like me and trying to maintain a sense of sanity in a process that is anything but predictable. Although no one can understand the stress and frustration that comes with this process until they personally endure this (I’m proof of this--I never understood it before either), I hope that my experiences help shed light on this emotional yet truly rewarding experience.
Finally, I would like to dedicate this to our future baby Eckroth. We can’t wait to meet you even if you are still sitting in my several hundred thousand pile of egg follicles right now waiting to be fertilized :) Here’s to hoping that this first round of Clomid works!
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